"Black Bird"

Over the years the Nid El Mourid sisters have grown in importance; nowadays they taken lead vocals as often as Péan, while Yamina Nid El Mourid has blossomed into a handy multi-instrumentalist, playing the kora or kamele n’goni harp (not instruments culturally associated with women) and these days often holding down the drum stool in the band. The band has drawn from its travels - they helped to found the Festival in the Desert, for example - and learned from different countries as well as nearly 40 years of performing as a collective. As always, though, Péan remains the centre, the linchpin, whether it’s on the purely solo “Black Bird,” where his piano part seems fragile and tentative, or powering the spiky, lopsided riff that’s the heart of “Bal La Poussière.” Bourreau, the other formative person in Lo’Jo, keeps to the background, an eminence grise who disguises his instrument, but forms so much of what makes them who they are.

"Bal La Poussière"

There are a couple of big-name guests, but they seem to arrive as welcome friends rather than for any marquee value. The late, very great Tony Allen plays drums on a couple of tracks, but he doesn’t try to dominate Lo’Jo’s music; he merely adds to it. And Robert Wyatt, who’s collaborated with the band before, makes an appearance on the brief track “Kiosco.” However, it’s far from what might be expected. No angelic singing; instead, he contributes a spoken word piece in French over Péan’s piano.

"Pas Pareil"

As a band, they often start songs with a simple element. Sometimes it’s a drum pattern (“Pas Pareil”), at others just a few notes (the title cut). The magic is how they build on that, assembling curious shapes of surprising, weary beauty. They keep growing, and after so long together still keep pushing themselves to look at the world in skewed ways. And while everything is familiar, it’s most definitely never the name. Quite how Lo’Jo do what they do is the magic that makes them unique, and ensures Transe de Papier is a joy. – Chris Nickson