Live Review: Tinariwen, Alison Ferrier

Showcasing her third album, What She Knows, Alison Ferrier confidently plays country blues in a way that makes it hard to believe she probably caught the tram into the city for this gig and wasn't jetted in from somewhere on the Mississippi Delta. Ferrier is a very tall lady who cuts an imposing figure on stage. Her vocals are strong and clear, which, in their own way, have a dignified beauty. Ferrier is supported by another guitarist and together produce lazy, bluesy vibes that are at once evocative and oozing with emotion.

Tinariwen or +IO:I, which is how they write their name in Tifinagh script, offer a rock update on what is a smooth blend of traditional North African styles of music. Although they come to Melbourne fresh from playing WOMADelaide, it is really difficult to simply apply a 'world music' tag to Tinariwen. Despite the ethnic context, Tinariwen are rockers and recent collaborations with the likes of Mark Lanegan and Kurt Vile clearly indicate where their intentions lie. They start us off with the rhythmic Kel Tamashek, which, like much of their work, weaves complex polyrhythms that don't overwhelm but rather create a gently rocking groove. Tenere Taqqal is the first song off last year's album Elwan, which, although featured on tonight's setlist, isn't a strong focus.

As they play songs from across their career, it soon becomes apparent that Tinariwen have defined a unique sound that is consistently applied to their songs. Their guitars are at once delicate and fascinatingly intricate, whether they are moving through fingerpicked complexity or strumming through the sweetest melodies. Singing in Tamashek, a Berber dialect, takes immediate understanding away from the audience who instead immediately focus in on the mood. As songs blend into each other it seems that Tinariwen understand how to deploy ancient and traditional trance music, hypnotising the crowd with a euphoric sound that lifts hearts and minds up to a state of absolute joy. Swathed in traditional robes and tagelmust veils, the band come across as a little mysterious and aloof. Most likely because their command of English isn't as proficient as their French when they address the audience. Enthusiastic expats who shout out requests affirm Tinariwen's rockstar status in their homeland. Identifying as Tuareg, it's dispiriting - if not heartbreaking - to identify that their music understands the refugee experience, the tyranny of borders and disintegration of homeland. Nonetheless, tunes like Chet Boghassa and Sastanaqqam come with strong, life-affirming uplift. Much like Happy Mondays, Tinariwen present with an interpretive dancer who takes over the stage with some funky moves on the driving Chaghaybou, which rounds out a magical evening on a celebratory high.