In the pop music landscape, a producer can guarantee a hit single with just their name, sometimes in conjunction with a video cameo. But there’s also the “fifth Beatle” kind of producer, who writes, arranges, plays and sings on their chosen artist’s album, creating a union between producer and artist, better than either producer or artist alone. Manu Chao is this kind of producer.

What, one might ask, can a Frenchman known the whole world over (for catchy third-world trash-ska) do for Amadou Bagayoko and Mariam Doumbia, the blind Malian husband-and-wife folk-soul combo who have been paying their dues in the West African music scene for more than 20 years? Chao, whose ode to Tijuana (“tequila, sexo, marijuana”) can be recited by approximately 70 percent of Europeans, places the duo’s folksy music in the context of his world beat-informed arrangements, instead of the Stax Records sound usually emulated by the pair. The result is a near-perfect blend of the duo’s beautifully smooth vocals, mournfully uplifting lyrics (en français), Amadou’s thick, masterful guitar lines, Chao’s instrument-heavy yet simple take on the West African beat (one that reggaeton stole for all of its songs) and more than once, some French rap. Chao’s essence is aurally present on nearly all of the tracks (full of street noises recorded in Bamako, Mali), but sometimes he steps into the foreground, where he is more exuberant than ever before. By working behind the boards for the prodigious pair, Manu Chao finally adds a touch of legitimacy to his impish repertoire.