deserved world music hype :: Fadela & Sahraoui Nsal fik

In the late 1980s, Algerian raï was hyped in world music circles as the next big thing, and hip magazines like The Face featured orientalist articles glamourising Oran youth arriving at seedy seaside nightclubs in Mazda convertibles to listen to the latest hedonistic raï stars. In November 1987, Factory Records (the independent label associated more with New Order and the like than world music) released Nsal fik نسال فيك, credited to Fadela فضيلة. (That her name is misspelt in Arabic on the cover is probably due to the fact that many Algerians are more fluent in written French than in written Arabic.)

Nsal fik was actually a duet with Fadela's husband Sahraoui سحراوي, and on the still great (and available!) 1988 compilation Rai rebels they are credited together. This collection of late 1980s Oran favourites was followed up with the 1990 release Rai rebels volume two: Pop-rai and Rachid style, which is also a raï must.

Incidentally, these two compilations was probably the first time audiences outside North Africa and France were exposed to Algeria's first crossover star Khaled خالد, whose Didi became a world hit a few years later. The track Sidi Boumedienne سيدي بومديان is dub-infused raï at its best, putting the "orchestral hit" synthesizer button to the greatest use ever!

bus station music? :: Senad "Niki" Nikočević Autobuska stanica

In Israel, the local equivalent of quarter tone pop music (musīqa mizraḥīt מוזיקה מזרחית) is called bus station music. One example is Śarīt Ḥadad's 2002 hit Teleḵ kapara 'alay תלך כפרה עליי ("go crazy over me"), but I'm pretty sure she doesn't care much about that label, knowing that her records are not only popular among the majority of Israelis with an origin in Arab countries, but also among Palestinians and other Arabs.

Anyway, my main point was that dismissing this kind of music as bus station music is not only common in Israel. But apparently, some not only shake off the stigma, they even celebrate it! Like the Bosnian turbofolk singer Senad "Niki" Nikočević, who went ahead and recorded a song called "bus station" in 2006, the fabulous Autobuska stanica. He even made a great little video in (what I think is) the Sarajevo bus station:

world music hypocrisy :: Zehra Bajraktarević and turbofolk melodrama

What's with world music and political correctness? Since I first heard of the term, I was full of hope – finally someone got it: there's tons of great pop music out there all over the world, just waiting to be discovered. Then it dawned on me, popular music and folk music is apparently not the same thing. For some strange reason, music classified as folk music is supposed to be frozen in some time warp when people were officially traditional, whereas pop music (i.e. popular music) is simply what lowbrow people around the world listen to. And it's not worthy of world music compilations...

Which is why the records filed under European "world music" (let alone released on Peter Gabriel's "RealWorld label) are generally very acoustic and traditional. In the sense of being preserved by some national academy, mostly played on statesponsored cultural programs, and – frankly – not very popular.

Accordingly, the truly popular music in countries in "world music land" is hardly ever found on the world music shelves in western record stores. No, you have to search in the grocery shops catering to different immigrant communities or surf the net to find truly popular music.

Blogs are good for the odd rant, thanks for skimming through it. My main point today is to spread the news of ex-Yugoslav turbofolk, through the wonderfully dramatic Zehra Bajraktarević. I first stumbled across her on the BalkanMedia website, which not only sends you great ex-Yugo cds, but chuck in sweets too! They let you listen to sound clips of the cds, so you know what you'll order, and that's how I fell in love with Zehra's song Nevjero ("betrayal", if BabelFish is not mistaken), off the album Samo nebo zna.

I'm pretty sure Zehra is Bosnian, since her first name is common in the Muslim world (it means flower), but apart from that I haven't been able to find any information about her on the internet. So you'll just have to trust my word, follow the links here and download some of her songs to see how wonderfully, quartertonally vibratingly great she is. I have no idea what the lyrics are about, but I'm sure they're pretty melodramatic. And what better place to perform a song (probably) called "betrayal" than in front of a swimming pool somewhere in the Balkans? Enjoy:



The title track of the album Samo nebo zna is not bad either:



Turbofolk rules, pc world music eat your heart out!

Bülent Ersoy :: arabesk phenomenon

In the early 1990s, when I started studying Arabic, I tried looking for Arabic pop music, but apart from the odd raï compilation buried in the world music section of Oslo's record stores, there was nothing to be found. Apparently there weren't many Arab immigrants in Oslo back then, at least not buying or selling music. But it turned out there was a substitute: In a great little book called The Virgin Directory of World Music by Philip Sweeney, in the chapter on Turkey, I read the following:

Perhaps the most striking development in the 1980s has been the rise of the Arabesk. Arabic and Turkish music have long interacted with each other but latterly the Arabesk style has positively boomed, to the distaste of the Turkish cultural establishment who regard it as cheap, melodramatic and inferior. Arabesk is indeed much associated with the lower classes and with the Eastern Mediterranean areas, especially the city of Adana near the Syrian border. (...) A distinct air of camp attends Arabesk, which is of course most compatible with the melodramatic, self-indulgent, doomladen lyrics, rattling tambourine and derbouka rhythms, swirling Oriental violins and ornamental saz or 'oud lines.

The author went on to list a number of prominent arabesk artists - Zeki Müren, Orhan Gencebay, Ferdi Tayfur, Müslüm Gürses, İbrahim Tatlıses, Bergen, küçük Ceylan and Emrah - but the one who really caught my attention was Bülent Ersoy.

Bülent is a conservatory trained singer of Ottoman Turkish classical music (Türk Sanat Müziği) who at the age of 29 had gender reassignment surgery, and continued her career as a female artist after being an established male singer for years during the 1970s. In addition to releasing classical Turkish music, she became a huge arabesk star in the 1980s. Imagine Bryn Terfel having a sex change and launching a parallel career as a country singer emulating Loretta Lynn, Dolly Parton and Tammy Wynette - you get the drift.

Small Turkish grocery stores started popping up around Oslo's east side in the late 1980s, and did not only sell food in demand with Oslo's immigrant community - they also did a brisk trade in the latest Turkish tapes. Armed with a list of the artists named above, I went shopping.

My first introduction to Bülent was with her 1992 tape Ablan kurban olsun sana ("let me be your big sister"). The title track has all the features listed by Sweeney above, and the rest of the album is both state of the art early 1990s arabesk, and a great showcase of Bülent's amazing voice - not the least on the closing medley, which takes us through the arabesk of Yürüyorum, gliding into the amazing acapella lament Ham meyva, followed by the folk song İki gözüm, iki çeşme ("my eyes are two wells") and ending with the sassy arabesk of Yar diline.

I was instantly hooked, and since then I've been on the constant lookout for more Bülent material. As she has released some 40-odd albums since 1975, there is a lot to look for. The fifteen albums I have got hold of so far contain a number of pearls, from the house-influenced (!) Limon olma off Akıllı ol (1996), via what should have been Bülent's Eurovision entry Bir sen, bir de ben, title track of her 1991 album, which also contains the gorgeously sad Akşam olmadan gel, and the dramatic İtirazım var ("I object!") from Ak güvercin ("the white dove") released all the way back in 1983. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Her best moment, in my opinion, must still be her classical song Aziz Istanbul ("beloved Istanbul"), the opening track of her 1995 Alaturka album. Pure quarter tone bliss!

Introduction

Welcome to the quarter tone zone! This is the blog that I've been looking for for quite some time, and never could find - so I decided I'd start it. My first encounter with quarter tonal pop music must have been back in the early 1970s, when my parents gave me a Demis Roussos tape after they came back from a holiday in Greece. Today My friend the wind sounds a wee bit cheesy, but it hooked me on synthesizers tuned to an Arab scale. Since then, I haven't looked back.

Over the 30-some years that have passed since my first exposure to "oriental" music, my horizon has expanded quite a bit. My next watershed experience was Spain's Eurovision 1983 entry: Remedios Amaya's ¿Quién maneja mi barca? It may have bombed with zero points, something that made poor Remedios go into musical hibernation for years (see Tim Moore's great book Nul Points for more), but in my opinion, her flamenco lament has just improved with time:



Then in my late teens I "discovered" Arabic pop music - both the Middle Eastern variety and Algerian raï راي, then (because Arabic music was so difficult to get hold of in Oslo back in the early 1990s) I fell for Turkish arabesk. Studying Arabic in Cairo in the mid-1990s made it considerably easier to get hold of Arabic pop, and I still have hundreds of Egyptian tapes stashed away somewhere. This was when I started to be able to differentiate between different Arabic pop music styles. In 1997 I worked in Hebron on the West Bank, and in addition to buying yet more Arabic cds, I ventured into Israeli mizraḥi מזרחי pop. Excursions into more Spanish flamenco pop followed, picking up the odd Iranian cd every now and then, before finally realising that Balkan quarter tones are more than Greek pop and Les mystères des voix bulgares: Narodno music from former Yugoslavia, Bulgarian čalga чалга and the genre with the greatest name in pop music history - turbofolk!

And now the time has finally come to share the happy tidings: Enjoy!