At least, that’s how the letter accompanying my tape translated the Arabic title. Certainly an apt description for a cassette boasting tracks from Egypt, Yemen, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, Lebanon and even Syria. I must confess a shocking lack of exposure to Arabic music. The only remotely middle-eastern flavoured examples that come to mind are from adventure movie soundtracks like Raiders of the Lost Ark, Bladerunner, and The Cell, the latter of which contains the startling and beautiful sufi music of the Jajouka, a Moroccan hill tribe. This is one time, though, when my ignorance is a good thing. There is nothing more exhilarating than the first listen to a fresh musical discovery, and we’re not taking about a new band here; we’re talking about a whole new genre of potentially untapped artistic genius. And I am all about the art.
The letter also apologized profusely for the sound quality, or lack thereof. Evidently the tape was recorded from downloaded mp3s and satellite TV rips. Ordinarily, I would be very critical of the use of mp3s, but given the efforts of the sender (‘cause you know he had to beg to use that stereo) to make the tape, I can only chuckle and shake my head.
Frankly, I counted myself lucky I was able to listen to it at all, the package was so beat up (Did you forget to tip your mailman at Christmas?). Apart from the sound being mostly in one ear (a problem I solved with a flip of the mono/stereo switch on my mixer), the quality of the recording was actually pretty good.
On first listen, I quickly realized that I was going to have to review this tape based on sonics alone. Other than the notes kindly provided by the sender, I have no clue as to the lyrical subject matter and Googling Arabic track titles and artist names using the Latin alphabet is an exercise in futility. It was a challenge, to say the least, and I can only hope that I’ve done it justice.
Side 1 kicks off with a surprisingly sexy Egyptian number by Sa’ad Al-Sghair. Recorded from the (movie?) soundtrack to Qissaat al-hai al-sha’bi*, I expect that this is an example of the pop end of the Arabic music spectrum. The track features cut-up samples of what I presume are ethnic instruments like the nasal-sounding ney (although I swear I hear an accordion in the mix) over lush synth pads and a sinuous rhythm. Vocals are performed by Amina*, who’s smoky voice effectively sells lyrics that the sender describes as “the filthiest I’ve encountered.” “Jump up on the carriage, oh yeah, ride it…” and, “various remarks about cucumbers and houmous…” sound like they might be the most lascivious I’ve ever heard, too. It’s a great start to the tape and really wet my appetite for more.
The next two songs, both by Yemeni artist Abu Bakr Salim, are what I imagine represent a more typical, traditional approach to Arabic pop music. The second of the two, Gesher min Al-Moz (Sweet As Bananas*), is the superior song. With a gentle, laidback rhythm and a call-and-response between male and female choirs, “Gesher” puts me in mind of a cast musical number like “Summer Nights” from Grease (could be way off on that one, but there you go).
Track 4 is by Kuwaiti artist Nawal (not to be confused with the Lebanese singer of the same name*). “Tamen Qelbi” (track title) is how I imagine Arabic club music; traditional instruments over 808 beats. Again, strings are at the forefront of the song, usurped only by the vocals. However, instead of being sweeping, the strings repeat a hooky little minor chord motif in much the same way synth loops are used in European dance music. The string-loop effect allows the listener to focus more on the vocals while maintaining the authenticity of the Arabic pop sound. It’s a tremendously successful tactic and I wish I had this track in my DJ bag.
The next three songs, one by Nawal and two from Mohamed Abdou, are from live sets. Alas, I’m not hearing anything new in these tracks. As with all of the previous tunes, strings are the instrument of choice. I understand why stings are so popular in Arabic pop; bowed instruments lend themselves very nicely to the ululating nature of the Middle Eastern vocal. As a fan of the Pet Shop Boys, it can never be said that I don’t appreciate strings in pop music, but by this point I’m getting tired of violins overshadowing the far more interesting ethnic instruments. I suspect that the string quartet has the same stranglehold on Arabic pop that guitar & bass has on European and North American pop. It also occurs to me that I’m not steeped enough in the genre to discern the subtle differences in these three compositions.
Happily, the tape’s compiler obliges my short attention span and drops a lovely triptych of tunes by Emirati singer Hussein Al-Jesmi. The first, “Al-Shaki”, is a short a cappella study of the Middle Eastern vocal. Clocking in at only 1:21, the track sounds like a singer warming up, complete with comments from unnamed bystanders. The appeal is perhaps a bit voyeuristic, but there’s something deliciously raw about hearing the different attempts at perfection. The two tracks that follow are versions of “Fegadtik”, one live and one polished. This is an old mix tape trick of mine, too; start with a live version and blend into the version released on CD (or vice versa). The transition is abrupt, but that’s to be expected given the rudimentary recording set-up. “Fegadtik” is a haunting lament featuring only vocalist and piano (no strings, thank god). The vocals are startlingly effective: Despite the fact that I can’t understand a word he’s saying, I can feel the singer’s pain. As an instrumental the song(s) evoke a piano bar or jazz club, a lone pianist at the keys. Adding the Arabic vocals to the mix jumbles that image with one of “The Blue Parrot” from Casablanca. The fusion of east and west has produced something extraordinary. It’s the best thing on Side 1 and is the perfect climax to the first half.
Side 2 opens with a pop track similar to those on Side 1. “El-Leila Helwa” (“Night is Sweet”*) is sung by Madonna Al Lebnania, whose vocals are indistinguishable from Amina’s (Side 1, Track 1). Again, the ubiquitous strings make an appearance. Fortunately, they are used sparingly as stabs and blurts. What makes this track stand out is not the instruments or the vocals, but the frenetic rhythm section. The drums are nuts! The complexity of the rhythms would leave many a breakbeat producer standing stunned with his mouth open in the middle of the dancefloor.
Tracks 2 and 3 blend into an intense, live a cappella by Egyptian songstress Sherine. The range of this woman is astounding. The songs, both titled “Garah Tani”, sound to me like a songs of worship, but not in the dire, dry style typical of western hymns. I would describe it more in terms of black gospel music from the southern United Sates; joyful music, a surrendering of yourself to the beauty of belief. I’m far from religious, but by the end I was cheering along with the crowd.
Sherine’s songs lead perfectly into 23 more minutes of live a cappella brilliance. No, really. I love every minute. The two a cappellas are credited to “Anon ?”, which could be the man’s name or an abbreviation for anonymous, and bookend a mostly instrumental soundtrack snippet from the film Ghazlan fil Ghaba Il-Dieb. Both a cappellas are titled “Mawai”, so I am unsure whether they are two parts of the same piece or separate performances. Regardless, the first 13 minute portion is the highlight of the tape. The song builds from a drone through a relatively sedate vocal to a crescendo where the singer is practically screaming. The crowd reacts in a similar manner, both men and women urging the vocalist on to greater and greater heights, setting up the feedback loop that is the cornerstone of all remarkable live performances. At one point, the “band” cuts in with an uptempo mixture of drums, flutes and strummed instruments, only to be cut off seconds later. You can almost hear the vocalist waving his hand to shush them, knowing, perhaps, that the connection he has with the crowd is fragile. Like the preceding songs, the sense that the singer is worshipping is very strong. As the track’s energy wanes, the tape switches to the soundtrack segment.
Judging by the syncopated strings (again with the strings!) and the electronic instruments, I expect it was chopped out of the middle of some action movie or spy thriller. In fact, if it weren’t for the choirs of male and female Arabic singers, and of course the title, it could have come from any film at all. With this relatively minor ethnic inclusion, it merely sounds as if it would be right at home in the middle of an Indiana Jones chase scene. While the track may be a bit common sonically, it is effective at maintaining the pressure generated by the first half of Side 2.
The third and final part of this section feels like a rewind. It’s the same song as the first part, and sounds very similar in terms of crowd noise and instrumentation. That’s OK, though. I’m happy to get another listen. Astonishing vocals, simply astonishing.
The tape closes on a melancholy note. “W Kaberna” by Najwa Karam opens with a full orchestra before downshifting to a downbeat duet. The orchestra sits low in the mix, rather than front and center, and eventually develops into a drone, leaving the focus to the male and female vocalists. The back and forth between the singers reminds me of Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up", where Peter and Kate Bush go back and forth in a he-said-she-said. It’s a dramatic finish to an eclectic mixture of ethnic sounds.
It must be said that it takes great courage for all of us in the Ferrite Love Connection to put our tastes on display. All it would take is some Neanderthal with no interest in anything other than his/her own insular opinions and your carefully constructed analogue masterpiece is cut down in a blaze of scathing blog text, if it gets reviewed at all. Even compared to the rest of us, it had to take some set of stones to compile, record, and send A Cocktail of Arabic Musical Joy to some anonymous member in the wilds of eastern Canada, a place where Celtic and Country reign hand-in-hand. But the gamble paid off. It may be blasphemy to say it on a blog dedicated to analogue glory, but if the compiler could just put them on a CD and send it to me at the same address…?
Side 1
From soundtrack of Qissaat al-hai al-sha ‘bi – Sa’ad Al-Sghair [Egypt]
7an Waqt Al Lega – Abu Bakr Salim [Yemen]
Gesher min Al-Moz – Abu Bakr Salim [Yemen]
Tamen Qelbi – Nawai [Kuwait]
Ana Be Kheir (Live in Doha 2007) – Nawai [Kuwait]
Darb Al-Mahaba (Live in Doha 2007) – Mohammed Abdou with Abu Bakr Salim [Saudi]
Ayooh (Live) – Mohammed Abdou [Saudi]
Al-Shaki (Live) – Hussein Al-Jesmi [Emirates]
Fegadtik (Live) – Hussein Al-Jesmi [Emirates]
Fegadtik 2006 – Hussein Al-Jesmi [Emirates]
Side 2
El-Leila Helwa – Madonna [Lebanon]
Garah Tani (Intro) (Live 2006) – Sherine [Egypt]
Garah Tani (Live) – Sherine [Egypt]
Mawai – Anon ? [?]
From soundtrack Ghazlan fil Ghaba Il-Dieb – Unknown [?]
Mawai – Anon ? [?]
W Kberna – Najwa Karam (&Wadi??) [Lebanon]
*As noted in the sender’s letter.
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2 comments:
alhamdu lillah!
my thoughts exactly
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