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. 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 (NL), 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.'
 
Thematically, Assikel continues 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.