By Jimmy Buffett | Sept/Oct 08 | Features

Who Do You Love

A true story of music, magic, and a long night in the desert with Bo Diddley

11:00 p.m. Get dinner at the hotel, where we receive our gifts of indigo blue Tuareg turbans (boy, will we need them).

Tuesday

11:00 a.m. Tour the marketplace.

1:00 p.m. Meet U.S. ambassador and embassy staff at U.S. embassy (in case we need to get rescued from the desert).

3:00 p.m. Lunch and a concert at a club called Savana.

4:30 p.m. Visit Bamako railroad station. This is the Apollo Theater of Bamako and has produced a long list of some of Mali’s greatest performers.

5:00 p.m. From a discussion in the bar at the train station we learn that the original members of the Rail Band are all in Bamako. This legendary band hasn’t performed together in twenty-five years. We strike a deal, and Volcanic Productions (our fly-by-night company) books the Rail Band at the railroad station that evening for $250. I will open the show with an acoustic set in the bar.

7:00 p.m. Freston and I meet a man at the train station and pay him the $250 up front.

8:00 p.m. Start drinking.

9:00 p.m. I do an hour show for embassy staff, spies, and locals; Blackwell films the whole thing.

9:30 p.m. Blackwell, Freston, Brandstein, and Bachellier almost get arrested for filming the departure of the train to Dakar. Money talks.

10:00 p.m. Several of the Rail Band members show up (I recognize them from album covers) and begin to set up their gear.

11:00 p.m. Lighting problem addressed. Since there have been no shows on the patio for over twenty years, there is no lighting. U.S. embassy staff immediately assess the problem and assemble embassy vehicles so that their headlights illuminate the stage (your tax dollars at work).

11:15 p.m. The Rail Band reunion gets under way.

Wednesday

1:00 a.m. As the Rail Band finishes to a standing ovation, we get a call that Toumani Diabaté and the Symmetric Orchestra are playing a special show in Blackwell’s honor. We say goodbye to the Rail Band and head to a club called Le Hogon.

3:00 a.m. Toumani finishes up, and as we are taking photos, we get a call that singer Oumou Sangare, an international star and true Malian legend, has heard we are in town and is waiting to honor us with a show at her hotel bar. We race across the bridge as Blackwell and Syndou film madly with their video cameras like the desert version of the Coen brothers.

The Spirit of Bo Diddley

Needless to say, after this kind of day topped off with two performances at two legendary Bamako nightspots and lots of champagne toasts, I had a significant buzz going as we pulled into the parking lot of Oumou’s Wassulu Hôtel Résidence. The joint was jumping, and when we passed through the hotel lobby to the club, I noticed that Syndou was carrying my guitar. “Just in case,” he said with a sly smile on his face. As we passed the stage, it was more than obvious that the assemblage of amazing musicians playing did not need any help from me in pleasing all the revelers vibrating on the dance floor.