Hassan Hakmoun Amps Up His Mesmerizing Gnawa Trance Music

by delarue

Hassan Hakmoun’s new album Unity takes the ultimate trance music and spices it with jagged, sometimes searing rock guitar and solid rock-oriented drumming along with the usual thicket of hand-drum percussion that typically underpins the Moroccan sintir virtuoso’s work. As fans of gnawa and North African music know, the low-register three-string sintir lute is the funk bass of the Berber world: in Hakmoun’s hands, it’s as slinky as it is mesmerizing. Hakmoun and band are playing the album release show on April 12 at 7 PM at Joe’s Pub; tix are $20.

Hakmoun’s agile hammer-ons fuel the opening track, Zidokan (Just Go), John Lee’s guitar pedaling a chord nebulously in the background over a clattering but hypnotically swaying beat. Then it turns into what could be a mashup of Public Image Ltd., George Thorogood and Moroccan folk music – and in the process sets the stage for the rest of the album. Balili (My Father) sets tightly spiraling sintir and guitar lines – and some unexpectedly boisterous wood flute – to a tight four-on-the-floor snare drum beat. Hamady (Prophet Mohammed) sounds like Hakmoun is playing his trance-inducing, circular riffs through a flange or a wah – or a fuzzbox. Shivery tremoloing guitar lingers way back in the mix before taking centerstage with an unhinged bluesmetal edge, Hakmoun singing in a gruffly passionate baritone in his native vernacular.

Dima Dima (Always) juxtaposes elegantly rapidfire acoustic guitar with the fat, pulsing groove, again bolstered by a steady beat on the rock drumkit and more of that breathless wood flute. Baniy (My Son) veers in and out of hard-hitting, psychedelically tinged funkmetal. Ohio, which aopears to be a shout-out to audiences around the world, is less acidically funky, built around one of the many call-and-response vocal vamps in most of these songs. Boudarbalayi (Saint) begins more slowly, in a more trad vein than the other tracks, before watery Keith Levene-esque guitar and woozy electronic keys enter the picture.

Soutinbi (Makkah) shuffles along on a beat that’s the closest thing to trip-hop here, lightly accented with guitar, electric piano and organ. Hakmoun runs the verses of Amarmoussaoui (People of God) with just guitars and a vocal choir before bringing in the sintir on the choruses: he makes you really miss it! The last of the tracks, Moulay Ahmed (Saint Ahmed) turns out to be the catchiest and most anthemic. The album also includes a couple of remixes, one by esteemed Israeli bassist Yossi Fine, who also produced the album, Hakmoun’s first in twelve years. It’s a vivid approximation of his literally mesmerizing live show.