Tinarawen & Dengue Fever

A Cambodian woman singing retro music in Khmer with a Los Angeles surf band named after a terminal illness, opening for a seven-person ensemble from Mali on a lavender light-drenched stage underneath six giant chandeliers in a century-old theatre in Berkeley, two doors down from my favorite restaurant no less? Sign me up.

Dengue Fever looking and sounding ravishing as usual, playing their final few songs as we enter the UC Theatre. Tinarawen is on next, but not before the Mayor of Berkeley comes on stage to honor the theater with an award of recognition. This place is every bit as gorgeous as the Fillmore or the Warfield on the inside. On the outside it's just as unassuming.

"North African Psychedelic folk rock" ... "Middle eastern blues" ... "FLOORED." Music journalist Rafael Tiffany's musings on descriptions of tonight's music, and his ultimate impression.

It's funny how certain of the world's nations are in vogue at certain times, subjects of awe and respect, sources of unique wisdom and art. Right now there's Thailand (massage), Peru (Ceremony), Mexico (tacos), maybe Japan (sushi and a nascent rope bondage scene). Mali certainly isn't on the list for us Americans, what with its proximity to the Middle East, home of sickle-toting demons who may tap you on your shoulder at any moment, summoning you to your rudely premature death. (I grew up as a Persian American during the aftermath of the Iranian hostage crisis in the 1980s; it kind of sucked.) More likely, Mali isn't remotely popular to Americans today because nobody has heard of it.

But let me tell you, these otherworldly old Arab men, draped head to toe in desert garb, chanting onstage like a group of baritone banshees, it is the sexiest thing I've seen or heard in ages.

To the eye, the main front man reminds me of Muddy Waters plus Jimi Hendrix plus my uncle Abe.

There are three guitarists in the group. They all sound like Hubert Sumlin with a fuzz pedal, playing what delta blues might have sounded like if it were the delta of the Nile River. For the last ten years, when I daydreamed about drinking some lysergic orange juice and jamming all night with some friends under a low ceiling or a blanket of bursting stars, THIS is the sound I imagined. Dark, rhythmic, undulating, full of stoic soul bursting at the seams.

This show is in rare company for me - up there with The Cure and Robert Plant, the absolute finest I've experienced in years. Dazzling to the eyes, with exquisite sound quality, masterful performance and graceful presentation.