Rokia Traoré is a fairy. A fairy
Mali, which has almost bewitched Thursday night during his concert at Mawazine. It started by us blues eardrums, establishing from the outset an aura of nostalgia unique to Africa, and during these few 1h30, has mixed Malian blues-folk rhythms that have made more swaying.
And we sway swaying, who still feel at times to be an island hopping in a sea of static. Group synergy will be a public fool for another day.
The concert was summarized by Rokia itself, probably without knowing it, through this beautiful sentence that I am eager to memorize:
There are days of honey sweetness, and bitter days of gall.
Please note that this anthology is Me was filmed, a small "Canon" peaceful fist, sometimes reduced visibility, the arm fatigue, and total oblivion when we dance, filming, well logically images pitching too. I avoid parties with the "wow", the "Wouw, and intra-group discussions where audible it complains of a sore foot! Sharing has its limits. :)
With that, I let you go sniffing dust Whitney Houston scene Nahda.
PS: We would be back over in a trance with funky Gocoo percussionists of the group, who followed, but playing too divas (almost 40mns waiting), it / they have pushed us to Casablanca slammed to resume the way back before the end.
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