A friend passed this on to me awhile back and I want to recommend it to you. It's from Egyptian rap group Katiba ("Batallion") 101. The title is "Shaytan wa Malak" (Demon and Angel). It proposes that the battle in Egypt is between the good or angelic forces, the forces of the revolution, and the demonic force of the authorities. According to the notes on youtube, the song was recorded two years ago (summer 2012), and is only now released.
I hope someone with better translation skills could translate the Arabic. The lyrics are there, on the youtube notes, so have at it. Katiba 101 also rap in English, and make a pretty good go of it. And it is really a slamming track. Have a listen. And I will try to learn more.
Sultan Hassan mosque, Cairo, December 1961 (Photo: Romain Swedenburg)
My family made its first trip to the Middle East in December 1961-January 1962. We visited Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan (East and West Banks), and Israel. In January 1964 we moved to Beirut, Lebanon. My parents lived there until fall 1972; I stayed on until January 1976.
The last time we were at my parents, my brother and I went through some of the many slides that my father took over the years, selected a number and had them scanned professionally. My dad was an amateur, but he was a quite accomplished photographer. I've started to post the photos on flickr, and assembled them in an album called Swedenburg Family, Middle East. You can access them here. I will continue to add 3-5 per week, so if you find them of interest, you can check back to find more in future. I have received very positive feedback when I've also posted the photos on Facebook, and I may do something further with the photos in future. At the least, hopefully, publish a photo essay. The photos are varied, all from the nineteen sixties: you'll find shots of Tahrir Square, Abu Simbel in the process of being raised, Jericho refugee camp, Aqaba, Sinai, Damascus, the Cedars...Please have a look. Feedback appreciated.
1. Thanks to Tim Abdellah Fuson and his invaluable blog Moroccan Tape Stash, a link to samples from the Moroccan Field Recordings at the Pitt Rivers Museum. The recordings in question were made in 1961 by an Oxford University "expedition." And Tim does us the favor of describing and adding his own keen insights into these recordings.
2. Nabeel Zuberi, author of, among other things, Sounds English: Transnational Popular Music (2001, University of Illinois Press), has done a wonderful mixtape in tribute to the late Stuart Hall. As you would expect, it's very political, transnational Caribbean, etc. And illuminating -- I was not familiar with most of the material, except for Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth's "Good Life" and Linton Kwesi Johnson's "Reggae Fi' Peach." And I was familiar with some of the artists. And I loved these lines from a great track by Eddy Grant, "Living on the Front Line":
Me, no want nobodys money
There lord they sugar me no want to see
Me, no want to shoot Palestines
Oh I have land, oh I have mine
3. Thanks to Sherine for alerting me to this article in Mada Masr about Egyptian singer Nadah El Shazly, who I had never heard of. The article doesn't mention it, but the clear influence, at least as far as "Western" sources, seems to be trip-hop, of early to mid nineties vintage. Particularly on the songs "Shorbet Rosas" and "Ghaba." (Check them out on El Shazly's Soundcloud page.) They also remind me of the work of Lebanese group Soapkills (vocals, Yasmine Hamdan), who I think wore their trip-hop influences on their sleeve. There is more going on than that, of course, and El Shazly is capable of other sounds as well, as in her collaboration "Athar Nowaa" with Egyptian rapper El Rass.
4. And Cairo Liberation Front (who are Dutch) have a new mahraganat mixtape, available here. With music from Islam Chipsy and Sadat & Alaa Fifty Cent and more.
Reading about the events of January 25, 2014, the three year anniversary of the launch of the Egyptian uprising that toppled Hosni Mubarak, I came across casualty figures. The first stats I saw were these (in Arabic, from Shorouk News, January 26), which give a total of 53. I noticed that a lot of the casualties seemed to be from al-Matariya, a popular quarter in the north of Cairo. I counted, and the total was 21. A more recent accounting from WikiThawra gives a total of 89 dead, 28 of them from al-Matariya.
I posted the early figure of 21 on Facebook, and my FB friend Alex posted as a comment this video of the events at al-Matariya, which is titled the "al-Matariya Massacre."
It shows a very large crowd of demonstrators, at Maidan al-Matariya, and lots of Ikhwan (Muslim Brotherhood) banners. (I've since learned that Matariya was one of two sites of MB demonstrations in Cairo on January 25, the other being Alf Maskan in Ain Shams. In Alf Maskan, according to WikiThawra, 32 died in confrontations with the security forces.) The young men who seem to be leading chants at the demo, shown early in the video, don't look like your typical Ikhwan members, but rather, like prototypical fans of mahragan (electro shaabi) music. Then you see confrontations between demonstrators and the security (who are not visible, you just hear shots being fired). And then, quite gruesome footage of casualties being carried from the lines of confrontation to (rudimentary) medical care. Quite gripping and shocking footage.
On twitter, I came across this photo of damage done to a wall of the shop by the firing of the security forces. You wonder what sort of ammunition they were using...
I've hunted around and been somewhat surprised that there has been very little coverage in English (or other European languages, as far as I can tell) of these events. One guesses because they happened in a popular quarter, which is far from the places that the Western media ever hangs out in, unlike Tahrir Square, which is very accessible. Al-Matariya is off the beaten path, like all of Cairo's popular quarters. One guesses as well that the absence of the usual subjects of Western coverage (young liberals/revolutionaries with Western education) is responsible for the lack of coverage. Finally, it was a Muslim Brotherhood organized demo, which is just not as sexy as a secular demo.
And yet al-Matariya is not, in fact, entirely unknown to the Western media. It's the 'hood of the celebrated mahragan (electro shaabi) posse, Eight Percent (Tamaniya fil-Miyya), composed of vocalists Wizza, Ortega and Oka. They're responsible for many great mahragan songs, including "Ana Aslan Gamid" (I'm Really Hard). This video, as of this writing, had been viewed by over 1,315,000 people.
These Matariya homies have received a great deal of publicity in both Egypt and abroad since 2011, including from yours truly, writing in Middle East Report, more recently for the Norient Musicfilm Festival 2014, and several times on this blog. They're among the mahragan stars featured in Hind Meddeb's fine documentary, Electro Chaabi, which screened at the Norient festival.
Al-Matariya is also an important pilgrimage site for Eastern Christians. The Holy Family is said to have stopped at al-Matariya village -- whose name is said to come from the latin Mater, for the Virgin Mary. (It was part of the area of the ancient city of Heliopolis, destroyed at the time of the Persian invasion in 525 BC.) Jesus is said to have used a staff that he took from Joseph, broken it into pieces, planted them, and then dug a well which made the pieces of wood take root and grow into a balsam tree. Mary (in the story about these events in the Qur'an -- not sure what verse) is said to have used the sweet-smelling water of the well (because of the balsam tree) to wash the clothes of Jesus, and so the well is known as the Tree of the Holy Virgin. A sycamore tree was planted on the site of the balsam in 1672, and a shoot of this tree still remains til today.
Because Mary and Jesus are venerated in the Muslim tradition, and particularly in its popular versions (although Muslims do not believe in the virgin birth), both Muslims and Christians make pilgrimage til today to the shrine of Mary's tree. There are also a Jesuit Holy Family Church and a Coptic Virgin Mary Church at the site.
Great short vid of mahragan (AKA 'techno shaabi' or 'electro shaabi') artist DJ Islam Chipsy working his keyboard magic, in a popular quarter in Cairo.
Music from the Egyptian revolution. Eskenderella, Ramy Essam, rapper Mohammed el-Deeb. Shaikh Imam and Sayyid Darwish. Ahmad Fouad Negm. Great stuff, courtesy France 24. French subtitles.
This is quite wonderful. Negm talks about his poems, his career with Sheikh Imam, and about the January 25 revolution in Egypt. We see a number of contemporary Egyptian artists (including Eskenderella) interpret his and Sheikh Imam's songs. Subtitled in French. From the France 24 web documentary, "Tahrir, je chante ton nom" (http://tahrirmusique.france24.com).
These are great clips, with subtitles in French, featuring DJ Omar Haha, Sadate and Vigo. "Lots of people criticize this music, but it's spreading like a virus."
Egypt has just held its first free and mostly fair elections and selected a new president. But the situation is in turmoil, as the junta (the SCAF, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces) has also just neutered the power of the presidency, shut the Parliament, and seized even more power for itself. The US arms the junta to the tune of $1.2 billion a year.
So this announcement seems really appropriate doesn't it? An event organized by the US embassy:
For the First Time in Egypt
American Idol Finalists
in the Cairo Opera House Open Air Theatre
on Friday, July 6 2012
at 8:00 pm.
Ticket Price:10 EGP.
On The Daily Show last night, Jon Stewart gave a recap of the Egyptian Revolution/Counter-revolution to date, interviewed the host of the popular comedy Egyptian TV show Al-Bernameg, Bassem Youssef, and -- promoted (correctly) a vision of the Egyptian revolutionary as garbed in a kufiya. View it here.
Given the current state of affairs in Egypt, with the Supreme Council announcing its revisions of the constitution, which grant it much more power, and as the Egyptian public awaits the announcement of the victor in the presidential elections...this song, chanted by the Ahlawi Ultras (fanatical fans of the Ahli football/soccer club) at the Parliament sit-in in April 2012, seems only appropriate. This is no "Kumbaya." It's very useful for English speakers, because it comes with subtitles. (I'm looking for the Arabic.)
Oh SCAF you bastards. How much money is a martyr's blood?
PS: for a great analysis of the current disarray of Egypt's political system, please check out this article by Nathan Brown.
Jadaliyya recently published this terrific article on the underground but now bubbling to the surface music scene which outsiders (like myself) have called techno shaabi but which is known locally as "mahragan" (or sometimes, mahraganat, the plural form), which translates as "festival" music.
Morayef tells us that it's the music of the popular quarters, of the microbuses and the ta'amiya stands. It is rooted in Egypt's "shaabi" music, the beats are pure sha'abi, but the sound is provided by DJ's jamming lots of electronica. The singing is shaabi as well but often heavily auto-tuned. The lyrics are full of humor and slang and are often very direct. Exceptionally and unprecedentedly direct, in fact, in their use of curses and vulgar language. Particularly in the case of the amazing Amr Haha (also spelled 7a7a).
Morayef describes Haha's new song, “Aha el shibshib daa’!” or “Fuck, I’ve lost my slippers!” Part of the impact generated by the song is that swearing is something that has long been taboo in Egyptian music. I remember discussions with Egyptian friends when I lived in Cairo ('92-'96) who were interested in rap music and were amazed by all the bad language. It seems that "mahragan" artists like Haha, and in fact perhaps particularly Haha, based on the evidence (all his music available on youtube) is responsible for breaking through that taboo. The song also gets its traction among audiences by its focus on the mundane, the loss of a slipper.
Morayef states that mahragan music often, or at least sometimes, has an oppositional edge. Haha and his posse (including Sadat and DJ Figo) mix the popular slogan “yasqut yasqut hokm al-‘askar,” or “down, down with military rule,” in their songs.
Elliott Colla, in his article "The People Want" in the latest Middle East Report (just out), shows how 7a7a, while supportive of the revolution, is also able to poke fun at it slogans. And I quote:
in one particular song, entitled, “The People Want Five Pounds’ Phone Credit,” 7a7a pokes fun at the slogan “the people want” even as he champions it:
The people want something new [to think about] The people want five pounds’ phone credit The people want to topple the regime But the people are so damn tired It’s hard living hand to mouth The people have said their word And Tahrir is their place
While 7a7a uses the same musical pattern of the slogan, he also adds rhyme where none existed before. Moreover, unlike the slogan, this song can only be pronounced in the vernacular. And like the sounds of the words, the lyrics also refer to a very local urban experience of poverty. This song also draws into question the tiredness of the slogan and the term -- “the people.” More precisely, 7a7a points out that “the people” is a rhetorical figure. In other words, 7a7a’s riff on revolutionary rhetoric suggests something very important, namely that the most powerful metaphor employed during the uprising was that of “the people” itself.
For a great account of Amr Haha playing at a wedding in a popular quarter, check out this account by Sarah Carr.
Morayef also discusses the group Tamanya Fil Meya or "Eight Percent," which includes DJ Ortega, Wezza and Oka, from Cairo's popular quarter Matariya. In their song "Ana Aslan Gamed" (I'm Really Hard), she says, they:
sing about their neighborhood, about faith and superstition, envy and the evil eye, and black magic. The lyrics flow like a conversation about an average day in their life as Oka, Ortega, and Wezza take turns in singing verses, while the others echo or call out to their neighborhood. In fact, the structure of their songs and the flow of their singing are very similar to rap music: street culture, roots, pride, ego, and prayer combined with a heavy rhythm and a raw energy.
What is also notable about this video is that it shows Eight Percent performing "Ana Aslan Gamed" not in Cairo but in the southern city of Aswan, and so, the crowd is full of young Nubians. We learn, then, that the group has a sizable fan base outside of Cairo, and as well, that mahragan groups are performing in concerts, not just at neighborhood weddings and parties (which was where they got their start playing).
I am really bowled over by "Ana Aslan Gamed." I find it quite beautiful, and at this moment, it's my favorite of all the mahragan music I've heard. The footage is quite remarkable as well, and it's from a forthcoming (2013) film about mahragan, called “Underground/On the Surface/Raise Your Hand if You Love God,” by director Salma El Tarzi. Please check out the film's blog for more information about the film (and even if you can't read Arabic, it's worth checking out the youtube vids, which feature clips from the film.)
Morayef tells us that mahragan music gaining a growing middle class audience. I was amazed to read her description of Haha and company performing at the Greek Club, one of my favorite establishments in downtown Cairo, but very much a place favored by middle class intellectuals and artists. The fact that shaabi, and in particular, electronic shaabi, is being performed in such a space, is testimony to how far mahragan is moving out of its origins in Egypt's popular quarters.
The more attention I pay to mahragan the more I hope that it blows up internationally, like kudoro or baile funk. It certainly is worthy of the attention. And it is about time for the world to recognize the incredible creativity, humor, tenacity and art of Egypt's lower and working class youth.
Mahragan is also good tonic, for moments when one get depressed about Egypt's ongoing revolution. It will cheer you up, and make you optimistic about the energy of Egypt's youth and its masses.
(I became aware of mahragan -- without knowing what it was called locally -- last fall, and have been struggling to make sense of it. I posted about it here, here, and here. So glad to read Morayef's account.)
an interdisciplinary project dedicated to exploring non-western & poetic notions of sound in interaction with alternative interfaces...a suite of seven free audio tools for Ableton (Max for Live), including include four distinct synthesizers hardwired to North African & Arabic maqam scales with quartertone tuning built-in, a device called Devotion which lowers your computer’s volume 5 times a day during call to prayer (presets include Agnostic, Fervent, Devout), and a drone machine...as tools, Sufi Plug Ins are what you do with them.
2. On May 16, rupture did a live radio show from Cairo, with guest host Humphrey Davies, one of the preeminent translators of texts from Arabic to English (such as Elias Khoury's Gate of the Sun). The show opens with a divine track from Layla Murad, "Itmakhtari witmayli ya khayl (Strut and prance, Horses!)," from the 1949 film Ghazal al-Banat (which Davies translates as "Candy Floss").
Wayne Marshall (of the blog wayneandwax) tweeted about the show and the opening number: "when the cowbell comes in at 0:07 seconds here, it's so 'take me to the mardi gras' i jump out of my skin." Listen and jump out of your skin too. And be sure to stay tuned for the entire show.
Ghazal al-Banat, btw, is a fantastic, uproarious comedy. Someone has put the entire film up on youtube. (Sorry, no subtitles.) Check out this segment, which features an amazing number from Mohammed Abd-el Wahhab (starting at about 4:30), complete with a huge orchestra and chorus, an army of balalaikas, a division of clarinets, Abdel Wahhab on vocals and banjo...Wow. Ahhh, ya Masr.
One of the most fabulous things I did while in Cairo in late March was go to see the group El Tanbura perform on March 24, at El Tanbura Hall in Abdeen. El Tanbura perform Egyptian "folk" music from the city of Port Said. Port Said's music is famous for being driven by an instrument known as the simsimiyya, the lyre. (I've posted on El Tanbura previously here.) El Tanbura was actively involved in the protests at Tahrir from January 25-February 11 (see this video), as were other groups affiliated with the El Mastaba Center for Egyptian Folk Music, established by Zakaria Ahmed, who performs with El Tanbura.
I was told that a song or two of El Tanbura's revolutionary repertoire were quite popular among the crowd at Tahrir. This is one of them. I've been unable to identify an Arabic title for the song. In English it's "Old Port Said." It's a nationalist song, about the Suez Crisis of 1956, when Egypt's president Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the Suez Canal, and was attacked by Israel, France and Great Britain. CNN recently published a report on Egypt's revolutionary music on the occasion of the performance of Egyptian musicians (including El Tanbura and Ramy Essam) at the Barbican in London. It discusses El Tanbura and has a link to a recording of "Old Port Said." You can also read more about El Tanbura here.
(I filmed El Tanbura with Zakaria Ahmed's permission. Zakaria is the one who introduces the song.)
This is from Cairo airport, July 2011 (thanks, NT). You might think this represents an Arab woman in "traditional" fashion, but women don't usually wear kufiyas as headscarves. Swarovski is an Austrian company that produces lead crystal and other related luxury products, so this mannequin doesn't seem to have anything to do with the kiosk behind it.
Then there are these, from Mamlaka Shopping Mall, in Jedda, Saudi Arabia, January 2010 (thanks, EC). Very deluxe kufiyas, that have nothing to do with Palestine solidarity or any progressive politics whatsoever, and everything to do with elite Saudi identity. (The red kufiya, with white dishdash, is traditional Saudi dress.) Kenzo, Lamborghini, Borsalino, Versace: very swank. Please get me a Versace next time you're in Jedda, won't you?
Like all companies trying to make money in the new Egypt after Mubarak, Coke & Pepsi are trying to ride the revolution. (Thanks to Robin for calling them to my attention.)
Check out this ad from Coca-Cola, with the theme, "Make Tomorrow Better." We see the middle class youth of Egypt (the presumed revolutionary subjects) ushering in a new dawn. Note that the focus is entirely on Cairo's downtown, which has both been a site that the upwardly mobile in neo-liberal Egypt have been fleeing for the upscale satellite suburbs, and which is also the focus of plans for gentrification. Finally, and perhaps most significantly, note the penultimate shot, which shows Tahrir Square, with a crowd (meant, of course, to evoke a demonstration, right before the last shot of a young person drinking a bottle of Coke.
Then check out this Pepsi advert. Again, the middle class youth of Egypt are the subject. They are shown to be adding color (literally) and life to Cairo's downtown (which has, in fact, been renovated in recent years). They possess the trappings of advanced modernity (flat screen televisions, laptops) and also evoke the youth of the revolution. This young woman carries the iconic cellphone (the "twitter revolution") and, yes, yes, you guessed it, she wears the requisite iconic accessory of the revolution, the kufiya.
And towards the end of the video, youth begin to gather at a street intersection in what looks like it could be a demonstration, and from a balcony looking over the intersection, a young man gives an enthusiastic revolutionary salute, with a can of Pepsi in his hand.
The overall theme is "express yourself." Among the lyrics of the song are the lines, "you are the new, you are the unique," and "tomorrow is waiting for you." And here's the vid:
Don't be too surprised, or dismayed. Both Coke and Pepsi attempted to ride the waves of the sixties counterculture and oppositional movements in the US.
Here's a "psychedelic" ad from Pepsi, from 1969.
And one from Coke, featuring Lady Soul Aretha Franklin, from 1968, when she had only recently crossed over, as a sign of Black Pride.
Big capital will, of course, inevitably, try to profit from the revolutionary fever...
Update (one hour later): Just a bit after I posted the above, I came across an article from Al-Masry Al-Youm on the same subject (although less critical), entitled "Soft-drink giants ride wave of post-uprising optimism." “It’s about empowering youth to come up with ideas and do something about them,” said Karim Khouri, managing director at Impact BBDO, the agency that designed ads for Pepsi.
Meet Yara Mekawie and Ola Saad, performing "abstract minimalist electronica" at the 100 Live Electronic Music Festival in Cairo last Thursday (as reported by Abdel-Rahman Hussein in Al-Masry Al-Youm).
Surprised by their "Islamic dress"? Yes, contemporary Egypt continues to surprise.
The 100 Live Electronic Music Festival is put on by 100 Copies Music, the Cairo label devoted to experimental music, and the label associated with the music of Ahmed Basiouny, who I have posted about several times, a martyr of the revolution.
I've not been able to learn much more about these two artists, who perform as RGB, other than what is written in Al-Masry Al-Youm. What I find of note is this:
1. RGB's music is very conceptual. Their performance was not, they say "about making music." “It’s about the sound and trying to convey colors through it,” Saad told Al-Masry Al-Youm. Mekawie concurred, adding, “When you hear what we do, the intent is for you to see light.”
2. They cite Ahmed Basiouny as their inspiration.
3. According to Hussein, "their work evokes Brian Eno and Robert Fripp’s “sonic landscapes” pioneered in the 1970s, but is more minimalist, less textured."
4. Most interesting, perhaps, is that the duo claim that the fact that they are women, and the only women in the festival, is "irrelevant." "The important thing is what we do."
The fact that they wear "Islamic dress": not even mentioned. At all.
Professor of Anthropology, University of Arkansas. Author of Memories of Revolt: The 1936-39 Rebellion and the Palestinian National Past. Co-editor of Palestine, Israel and the Politics of Popular Culture and of Displacement, Diaspora, and Geographies of Identity.
