Reviewing a hip-hop album in an unfamiliar language is a recipe for disaster potentially compounded tenfold in the case of a westerner haphazardly attempting to shed some light on a characteristically slang-laden, regionally-centric release from the third world. Saying that this album is full of pleasant dance grooves would be like a non-Wolof speaker explaining how the classic Ousmane Sembene film Camp de Thiaroye is full of striking urban imagery. So here goes a shot at something better. Sister Fa is the biggest female hip-hop star in Senegal, a more impressive accomplishment than it may seem considering that female performers other than singers are often frowned upon in the dominant Muslim culture. Suffice it to say that it was a pretty rough road for her, but Sister Fa – now based in Germany – is every bit as popular on her old home turf as, say, L’il Kim is here. On her new album she raps in Wolof, Manding, Jola and French, pretty much in that order. From a Francophone perspective, her flow is completely original, a rapidfire delivery that seems to draw on what was fermenting in Brooklyn and Staten Island in the late 80s and early 90s, through the prism of popular 90s French-African acts like MC Solaar and Menelik. If there are similar Senegalese lyricists out there, at least from a western perspective, they’re under the radar. No doubt that originality struck a nerve – not to mention her fearless political stance as a crusader against female genital mutilation (Sister Fa herself was maimed at an early age).

Having succeeded where she started, she’s shooting for a broader audience (at least with the French material here), eschewing local scene-oriented topical material for a broader anti-violence, populist, generally uplifting vibe. That which isn’t narrative here is boast without the bling, much in the same spirit as Canibus – Sister Fa has the confidence to go with her words alone without bragging about how much luxury brand crap she owns, and it works. The more specific material has a message: for example, one of the Wolof numbers, Life AM, set to one of the more ominous samples here, is a no-nonsense guide to how to avoid AIDS and STDs. As far as the backing tracks are concerned, this one has more of a vintage 80s feel, straight-up samples without backward masking plus occasional loops of pretty, fluttery kora (West African harp) and acoustic guitar over a variety of beats ranging from light trip-hop to subsonic thud. At itunes and better urban record stores