E-Mail This Article to a Friend In praise of . . . Youssou N’Dour’s Egypt BY BANNING EYRE

Senegal’s Youssou N’Dour is best known for hard-driving, percussion-based dance pop and topical songs delivered from a progressive, African perspective. One of Africa’s most powerful, distinctive, and successful singers, N’Dour pioneered Senegal’s intensely rhythmic mbalax sound and then took heat for fusing it with international styles. He came to the world under the wing of Peter Gabriel; he scored his biggest hit in 1994 when he joined Neneh Cherry in the moody, lugubrious ballad "Seven Seconds." But back home in Dakar, he’s always stayed true to mbalax. So it was something of a shock this year when he released Egypt (Nonesuch), a lush, philosophical work recorded with an Egyptian orchestra and dedicated to honoring Islam, in particular the holy men who brought faith to the masses in West Africa.

The history underlying these eight remarkable songs goes back to the teachings of Sidi Ahmed al-Tijaniyya, a Sufi mystic who began his influential movement in Fes, Morocco, in the late 18th century. N’Dour celebrates Tijaniyya in an elegant, loping, lyrical song that sets his singularly African voice amid the strident stabs and swells of an Oriental string section. It may be a tad muted, but his gift for the catchy pop melody still comes through on Egypt, and the music manages to communicate godliness with a minimum of mush or sentimentality. N’Dour debuted Egypt in a spectacular performance at the 2004 World Sacred Music Festival, which was held in a moonlit palace in Tijaniyya’s native Fes.

The recording itself goes back to 1998. At a press conference in Fes, N’Dour explained, "Every year during Ramadan, I stop my activities. I stay at home. I meet with friends to discuss our religion, our practices. I said to myself that since this period is really interesting, it would be good to have music that was in tune with it. At the same time, it reminded me that when I was 10 years old, my father had a big radio and I heard the voice of [the late Egyptian vocal diva] Umm Kulthum all the time. So the two ideas came to mind — Ramadan and the music coming from Egypt."

N’Dour created this personal album with the help of an offbeat producer and composer in Cairo. Fathy Salama made four trips to Dakar, where the two worked in secret, telling journalists that Salama was recording his own music. Salama had already been interested in West African pop, but now, as he said in Fes, he went deep: "I fell in love with Senegal, the culture, the people, and the Senegalese view of Islam as well." Salama was impressed by the sight of Senegalese people praying in the mosque by day and getting down in Youssou’s nightclub by night. And he saw that the Baye Fall — followers of Senegalese Sufi holy man Cheikh Ibra Fall — used drumming as an act of worship. So when N’Dour began feeding him melodies for songs in praise Fall, Cheikh Amadou Bamba, Tijaniyya, and others, he got busy. "I created the first version of four songs on the computer, with emulation of the real instruments. I sent it back to Youssou and he was very happy. He called me and said, ‘Go ahead. Don’t ask me any more.’ " For the recording, Salama assembled some of Cairo’s top session players, a full orchestra, adorned with a few carefully chosen Senegalese musicians on kora (harp), wood-slatted balafon, percussion, and vocals.

The results are unlike anything N’Dour has done before, from the gentle awakening of "Allah" to the rolling swoon of "Cheikh Ibra Fall" and the dark, down groove of "Touba-Daru Salaam." The album’s dramatic set piece, "Shukran Bamba," features an arrhythmic Umm Kulthum–like passage in which N’Dour leads the orchestra, singing — to Salama’s amazement — in a microtonal Arabic scale. "I asked Youssou and he said he didn’t know what this scale was called but he could sing it perfectly."

The work was finished in 2000, but N’Dour hesitated to release it, especially after the tragedy of September 11. Not wanting Egypt to be seen as political, he sat on the recording and released an exploratory pop album called Nothing’s in Vain instead. Now, he seems to have made his peace with the inevitable controversies a pop star’s venture into religious matters raises. He says Egypt does not represent a new direction for him but is a statement about Islam in the world. "In the present international context, it’s difficult to find a way to make people understand the meaning of our religion. Most people in the West are ignorant of it. Egypt is not just a country, it’s a concept, it’s a spirit. With this album, I wanted people to understand that there are not several Islams — one in Senegal and one in Egypt — but one. The ways of promoting Islam are different, but the meaning is the same."