Dimanche

It's funny how often fate conspires to create stars out of hitherto unknown artists. It took a chance encounter in a Parisian taxi to lift this pair of Malian singers — both blind — into the European mainstream.

The big break came through the famed Manu Chao — singer, producer and world muso extraordinaire, whose 'Esperanza' album fused French, Latin and Caribbean rhythms into a album that successfully straddled that uncomfortable divide between world music and the mainstream.

Chao, so the story goes, heard a song by Amadou and Mariam while in a taxi on a Parisian freeway. So taken was he with their sound that he tracked them down and worked with them on a new album.

The result is 'Dimanche a Bamako', a joyous fusion of Malian rhythms, French pop and reggae, together with a large helping of Manu Chao's unquestionable pop nous.

It's an album soaked in the rhythms of West Africa, with traditional instruments and tone forms driving the French vocals, while a healthy slice of sampling and accessible beats will soften the blow for the more pop-minded listener.

The funked up reggae of 'La Realite' demands attention, while 'Senegal Fast Food', with its tales of uprooted people across the globe is Manu Chao at his quirky best, toying with a theme that jumps from instrument to instrument, blending sounds and samples together with a catchy chorus and a beat that defies you to sit still.

Then the smooth reggae beats of Taxi Bamako, twinned with a lazy horn section will transport you to a hot afternoon in a Bamako bar, fans spinning lazily overhead…

But for all the sampling and smooth production, the couple remain true to their roots with traditional instruments and timeless tone forms. Amadou and Mariam have been making music together since they met at an institute for the blind 25 years ago, and their voices become indistinguishable at times, rising and flowing around the repetitive rhythms and rhymes as one track melds into another in a hypnotic mix.

This is an album to listen to over and over, expect to hear it in coffeeshops, loungebars, and the more enlightened clubs. And yes, belting out of a taxi or two.