Assikel

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For two decades, Tamikrest’s music has illuminated the sound, culture and conscience of the Kel Tamasheq (Touareg) people of the Sahara. Tamikrest means ‘connection’ or ‘union’ in Tamasheq, and the band have become one of the Kel Tamasheq's most vital voices, raising awareness of their plight while channelling experiences of exile, loss and resistance. Their sixth studio album, Assikel, which means ‘voyage’ or ‘journey’, shows just how far the band have come.Formed in 2006 by Ousmane Ag Mossa and Cheikh Ag Tiglia, both originally from Tinzawaten near the Mali-Algerian border, Tamikrest emerged under the influence of Tinariwen, those legendary pioneers of Ishumar guitar music. A serendipitous encounter with Glitterbeat’s co-founder Chris Eckman and his group Dirtmusic at the 2008 Festival in the Desert in Mali marked the beginning of a long-standing partnership with the label – one that has since helped bring the band to international attention. They are now an established four-piece with guitarist Paul Salvagnac, who joined in 2012, and percussionist Cédric ‘Momo’ Maurel, who joined a year later.Assikel marks a deliberate tonal shift. Drawing on years of touring and improvisation, the band chose to record live to analogue tape.The idea was inspired, in part, by their love of the sound created by Altın Gün’s engineer/mixer Jasper Geluk, someone Momo affectionately describes as ‘an old-school engineer, musician, sound poet and dreamer. He always has a screwdriver in his hand.’Recording took place over ten days in October 2025 at Jasper’s Tone Boutique studio in Haarlem, using a late-1960s 16-track tape machine. As Jasper says: ‘It has a wonderful character in sound, although it can be challenging at times and a bit like driving a vintage 4x4, demanding full attention. But it’s always a thrill.’This live-to-tape process demanded total commitment from the band: ‘We knew we couldn’t redo it ten times over,’ says Paul. The result captures the rawness and spontaneity of the recording process, with this desire to go back to basics also extending to the album cover visuals, which were shot on film to give the artwork a grainy, timeless aesthetic.Thematically, Assikelcontinues Tamikrest’s exploration of exile, displacement and assouf – that untranslatable Tamasheq word encompassing nostalgia, longing and homesickness. ‘The subject of the songs hasn’t changed much because the situation at home hasn’t improved – on the contrary, it’s got worse,’ says Ousmane. The current situation in Mali is indeed dire: a junta in place since 2021, political opposition banned and media suppressed, the departure of a UN peacekeeping mission in 2023, the presence of the Kremlin-controlled Africa Corps, and violence visited daily on an exhausted populace by jihadists, Malian forces and Russian paramilitaries alike.It is no surprise, then, that Assikel’s eight tracks are packed with urgency and defiance, although there are plenty of the quieter, more reflective moments that have always characterised the band. The instrumentation weaves electric and acoustic guitars, floating lap steel, thick dubby bass, hand percussion, calabash and a full drum kit, while the songs themselves morph from Ishumar rock and roll, to hypnotic folk meditations, with Ousmane’s voice and storytelling always front and centre. This is, in short, music that only Tamikrest can make.‘Adagh Oyanted’, the pulsing, slide guitar-inflected opener, refers to Mali’s mountainous northern region, with words that warn against the exploitation of ancestral lands, while ‘Aiytma’, co-written with poet Mahmoud Ag Ahmouden, is a deceptively gentle ballad that acts as a call to resistance (Cheikh likens it to a song you would sing in the trenches ‘to motivate your comrades’). ‘Imanin’ opens with an eerie synth line by guest Belgian musician Wouter Van Asselbergh, before an onslaught of distorted guitars and relentless percussion transform it into the most raw and electric-sounding track on the album.A moment of calm arrives with ‘Eillal’ (Mirage), which features the softly spoken words of Tinariwen’s Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, his first recorded collaboration with the band, and album closer ‘Adounia’ is a tribute to the late Mohammed Ag Itlale (aka Japonais) of Tinariwen, one of Ousmane’s early mentors. A slow meditation on the ephemerality of life, it blends melancholic vocals with organ textures, and ends with a scratchy home recording of Japonais reciting his poem – an intimate and fitting conclusion.Twenty years on, Tamikrest’s musical and cultural role feels more vital than ever. Assikel’sstripped-back, deeply atmospheric sound accentuates the conviction and spiritual strength of Ousmane's writing and the band’s wonderfully melodic arrangements, and reaffirms their position as one of the foremost voices of the Kel Tamasheq.The last word goes to Ousmane, and perhaps acts as a counterpoint to those who might be tempted to see Tamikrest as spokespeople first and musicians second. There is, to be sure, no escaping politics and oppression, but as he points out with his usual gentleness and clarity: ‘What motivates us today is the same that motivated us at the beginning: the love of music.’ Tamikrest are back, after too long away, and they sound more resonant and vital than ever. 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