This video has been a long time coming. The back story: I've known guitarist/writer Banning Eyre for years and of course, his and Sean Barlow’s tireless efforts with their baby, Afropop Worldwide. I've followed their travels and travails, and admired their dedication and perseverance. I always wanted to collaborate in some way, and I got my chance when Banning called me up in the summer of 2010 and told me he was going to visit a great guitarist who was in town, to record him for a radio show, and would I like to come along? As we drove up to the Bronx, Banning filled me in on how he had first met Badian, and I got a feeling for why this interview was going to be special for him.

After a rather steep climb up to a rambling house on a hill, we were greeted by the elegantly clad Badian, and his regal wife. Banning set up his gear in the sunny backyard, and recording commenced. As I shot the performance I realized that the technique Badian used was unlike any I had seen before. One hears rippling melodic lines coming out of koras and ngonis, but transferring that sound to the guitar requires a great delicacy and precision utilizing both the up stroke and the down stroke of the "picking" fingers. Badian’s technique is utterly fluid in this way. Thank goodness for a good zoom on my camera; I was able to get nice close-ups of his hands.

Badian was in town for a month playing for the various celebrations within the West African community in the Bronx, which at this point is considerable. I can only imagine how wonderful the music must be at these events. but you will never see this kind of thing covered in Time Out or any publications of that ilk. You just have to be hooked into the scene. Banning and Badian had much to say to each other (mostly in French so I got only the gist of many names, and being brought up to date on everyone's doings), so I just concentrated on shooting. When I got back to my house I reviewed the footage and considered how to use it... for my Huffington Post vlog? As an exclusive here on my own site? To post on guitar sites? I was in a quandary. In the midst of this indecision Banning called to say he had footage of Badian from 1996 that he had been saving for all these years and maybe there was a bigger story to be told. Could I hold off on posting until we could put something like that together?

So I held off for over a year. Banning was off and running with countless Afropop Worldwide projects and trips, and working with his own band, Timbila. But after he returned from a music collecting trip to Egypt, he was back with a vengeance, wanting to get the project up and out. So here it is at last, after hours of footage in many formats sifted through, and condensed into 15.5 minutes.

For more of Michal's original music videos, visit inter-muse.com.

The Black Earth Boys are Justin Adams, Juldeh Camara and Ben Mandelson. The band is an aggregate of two others- with Adams as the link between. Justin and Juldeh -- now touring internationally under the name "JuJu" have recorded two CDs, "Soul Science" and "Tell No Lies."  Camara, who is from the Gambia, is a singer, instrument maker, and master of the ritti, a single stringed, violin-like instrument. Adams is well known for his long association with singer Robert Plant. His great strength is groove; no flashy mile-a-minute riffs, simply a guitar style that FEELS just right, and is an excellent partnering with Camara's flights of improvisation.

Ben Mandelson is not just a fine musician, he is a real life hero of world music. Back when I was first listening to recordings of what would eventually be called "world music" it was Ben's productions I often found myself checking out. Here we see him comfortably supplying tasty fills, textural motifs and rhythmic drive on mandolin. Adams, Mandelson and Lu Edmonds (unavailable for this performance) have their own ensemble "Les Triaboliques," a project that has them gleefully galloping through all the musical influences they have gathered in their past and present lives.

This performance, from Lincoln Center's Out of Doors series took place in Damrosch Park. The repertoire was primarily a melding of American folk and blues with Camara bringing the West African flavor. His ritti at times sounded like a fiddle, and eerily, at times like a harmonica. It was a surprisingly cohesive sound, reminding us once again of the debt that our music owes to African culture. While Adams' gritty voice sang a simpler, countrified interpretation of this Carter Family standby "Sow 'Em on the Mountain," Camara's vocal takes a soaring, melismatic approach. Great stuff.

For more of Michal's original music videos click here.

The Summer Solstice brought a plethora of free performances in and around NYC, and the one I opted for was the Griot Summit at the Wave Hill Gardens overlooking the Hudson, in the Bronx. Who could resist getting away from the burning pavements of the city to saunter through bucolic splendor while listening to masters of the Griot tradition?

For those of you who are not familiar with the term "griot" (or jali, or jeli, depending on where the griot is from) a quick explanation: the griot is the repository of the history of his or her people, knowing geneologies and major epic songs by heart. Descended through the family line, the griot is not just a musician, but a living library, an advisor, and on occasion, a gadfly.  Understanding the function of the griot is a great way to gain insight into the culture of West Africa. But I have started my video with a good description, straight from the horse's mouth, so I'm sure you'll figure it out.  

The day started out with the various musicians scattered around the grounds, so that you could catch solos and larger groups as they performed in lushly green walkways, formal gardens and woodland areas. Then they all gathered for a massive display on the main stage, to get everyone riveted, then up and moving.  Personally, I was entranced and dazzled by the regal appearance of the griots. I guess I'm just a sucker for African Formal Wear; all those robes, headdresses and intense colors and bright white against dark skin knock me out.  I was also struck by the obvious musical links between what these musicians were conveying in its purest form, and the roots of our own American music: the glissandos, time signatures, the improvisations; it was all there to hear and mark as building blocks of the blues.

All in all it was an amazing gathering, and it was a tribute to Sylvain Leroux the curator, Isabel Soffer of Live Sounds, and the musicians, that it all came together so wonderfully well. After all, you can't just assume that Jalis from Guinea are going to play well with Jalis from Burkina Fasso or Mali.  But they certainly did here!

The day was hot, and this was shooting on the fly-- no way to deal with the light, the sound, the terrain, so I will beg your pardon for the occasional visual burn, bumpy camera work, and some audio distortion.

The participating musicians were:

Abdoulaye Diabate (Mali), Toumany Diabate (USA), Tapani Sissoko and her mother (Mali), Yacouba Sissoko (Mali), Mamady Kouyate (Guinea), Makane Kouyate (Mali), Ismael Diarra (Burkina Faso), Abdourahmane Mangara (Gambia), Aissatou Kouyate (Mali), Famoro Dioubate (Guinea), Andy Algire (USA), Sam Dickey (USA), Bailo Bah (Guinea), Ibrahima Soumano (Guinea), Mmah Doumbouya (Guinea), Ayiba Doumbouya (Guinea), Bebe Camara (Guinea), Nagna Diabate (Guinea), Hasan Bakr (USA), Zoumana Diabate (Mali), Moussa Diabate (Mali), Anette Lipson (USA), Kewulay Kamara (Sierra Leone), Lankandia Cissoko (Senegal), Yacouba Diabate (Burkina Faso), Sylvain Leroux (Canada).

For more music from this gathering, click here.

I had the good fortune to have the ever sunny Brazilian singer/songwriter Jair Oliveira in the studio last September. Oliveira is the son of Jair Rodriguez, one of Brazil’s most beloved musical stars, and famous for his hit “Deixa Isso Pra La” which is arguably the first Brazilian hip hop song. For those you who follow the blog, you may remember at that time Oliveira sang a charming song he wrote for his baby daughter, called "Showertime."
He also sang a song about soccer, and suggested that I hold it in reserve for the upcoming World Cup in South Africa.  Which I did. It’s a damned good song too.
Let the games begin!

I am amazed that I only met Nora Balaban recently. I had known about her store "Tribal Soundz," the East Village haven for world music lovers and musicians for years (it is gone now, like the community that suppported it). Somehow our paths never crossed, and it was only when I saw her play in the group "Timbila" that it occurred to me that hers was a story worth telling. I started out by interviewing her, videotaping the band and as we spoke, she brought out photos, CDs, movies and even a 45! (The record, not the gun.) To try to put everything into one short piece was a bit beyond me, so I decided to split the info into two installments.  The first segment concentrates on how she "found" the timbila, and the second will focus more on the mbira and her work with Timbila the band.