Friendlier music from the Arabic speaking world you won’t find. This beguiling compilation samples elegant, idiosyncratic art music that has blossomed in what we might call the Arab diaspora. The sleeve notes characterize these 10 tracks as representing “softer, more introspective qualities” in Arabic music. Another way to describe them is work by artists who have for one reason or another been removed from established Arabic musical traditions, and so become free to reinvent them in more personal ways. From his home in Egypt’s Sinai Peninsula, Gamar Badawi sings the opener “Jamal Porta,” a Sudanese song with an undertow of 12/8 desert rhythm, and an overlay of Spanish flamenco.
From there, we encounter three women who have fled their homelands for more artistically liberated environments in Europe. Rasha, a young Sudanese singer living in Spain, explores her Sudanese heritage on the smoothly rolling “Aara Alhai (Girls of the Quarter).” Algeria’s Saoud Massi takes similar liberties in Paris, and also achieves lovely results on “Ghir Enta (Only You).” And, from her new base in Austin, Texas, Syrian born Zein Al-Jundi merges Arabic song with jazz balladry on “Wijjak Ma’ii (Your Face is With Me.)”
Narratives of exile infuse this collection. Maurice El Médioni, the great Jewish maestro of Oran, Algeria, has created a body of music drenched in warm nostalgia, and that comes through even on his track here, created in collaboration with Cuban percussionist Roberto Rodriguez. The French/Algerian group Les Orientales also look back to Oran—especially in the lively, multicultural years following World War II—for inspiration. “Alger, Alger,” is a sweet love song to Algiers, composed by another veteran, Jewish/Algerian exile, Lili Boniche. The deeper and older story of exile that is the history of Al Andalus (medieval, Moorish Spain) also interweaves these gentle airs. Mousta Largo (himself a Belgian born Moroccan) sings “Les Larmes de Boabdil” evoking the sadness of the last Muslim king in Al Andalus as he departs the Alhambra, his former castle. This song is built around a tango like rhythmic figure and a wistfully meandering saxophone and violin melodies.
Largo’s strong, horn-like voice is a discovery here, as is Tiris Nibreeha, a group of Sahrawi refugees from the disputed territory of the Western Sahara, and the group Zaman, Palestinean Arabs with Israeli passports in their satchels and Spanish flamenco in their hearts. Those passports keep them apart, but the flamenco keeps them connected—a good metaphor for the imaginative hybrids on Acoustic Arabia.