Professional Documents
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Drury Gwu 0075A 13075
Drury Gwu 0075A 13075
by Meghan Drury
A dissertation submitted to
The Faculty of
The Columbian College of Arts and Sciences
of The George Washington University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy
Melani McAlister
Associate Professor of American Studies and International Affairs
Gayle Wald
Professor of English and American Studies
The Columbian College of Arts and Sciences of The George Washington University
certifies that Meghan Elizabeth Drury has passed the Final Examination for the degree
of Doctor of Philosophy as of March 7, 2016. This is the final and approved form of
the dissertation.
Sonic Affinities: The Middle East in the American Popular Music Imaginary, 1955-2014
Meghan Drury
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© Copyright 2016 by Meghan Drury.
All rights reserved
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This dissertation is dedicated to my mom, my Nana, and Auntie Pussy –
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Acknowledgments
Wong, René T.A. Lysloff, Jonathan Ritter, Leonora Saavedra, Byron Adams, and Griff
Rollefson for their support and encouragement of my work as a master’s student. I was
also fortunate enough to take a class at UCLA with Ali Jihad Racy, who taught me about
the intricacies of Arabic music with great warmth and patience. I am grateful to maestro
Nabil Azzam and MESTO for providing a community and extended family for me in Los
Angeles. This project was inspired in part by their mutual support. Nabil has been an
enthusiastic teacher and mentor over the past ten years, and he single-handedly facilitated
trips to Egypt, Oman, and Jordan. Special thanks to Mandy Fey Carota for being such a
generous friend and opening her home to me in LA. At UC Riverside, I benefited from
the camaraderie of Liz Macy, Marshall Howland, Genie Yoo, Colin Pearson, Donovan
Jones, Jacky Avila, Ryan Randall, Sharon Tohline, Helen Lovejoy, Erika Montenegro,
Mary Song, and most of all, Melissa Garcia. I owe a special thanks to Josh Kun for
keeping his promise to someday serve on my dissertation committee, and for his
relentless work ethic and Spotify playlists. The seeds of this project were kindled by two
incredible artists and human beings, Omar Chakaki (aka Omar Offendum) and Yassin
Alsalman (aka Narcy), and I want to thank them for their creative vitality and humor.
through a seminar on Lorraine Hansberry, which she taught despite only having two
students registered. Gayle and Melani McAlister have both been incredible role models
as professors and advisors. They have showed me how to be firm yet genuine as a teacher
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and to intellectually engage with the world at large. Their brilliantly interdisciplinary
scholarship has been instrumental to my own work and their mentorship is invaluable. I
am grateful to have received guidance from James A Miller before his death in June
2015. Jim’s warmth, quick wit, and inexhaustible spirit made a lasting impression. Kip
Kosek, Phyllis Palmer, and Libby Anker were all generous and compelling instructors,
and were a pleasure to TA for. I owe thanks to Dina Khoury in the history department
and to Kavita Daiya in English for their instructive seminars. Additionally, the courses I
took with Andrew Zimmerman were exciting and intellectually demanding, and I
appreciate his ability to distill and interpret dense material. Also, sincere thanks to my
generous committee member Antonio López and outside reader William Youmans.
Many thanks to the wonderful community of scholars I met through the Journal
of Popular Music Studies and the EMP Pop Conference, including but not limited to: Eric
Weisbard, Ann Powers, Oliver Wang, Sarah Dougher, Jack Hamilton, Carl Wilson, Jody
Rosen, Gustavus Stadler, Barry Shank, Ali Colleen Neff, David Suisman, Patty Ahn,
Jason King, Jennifer Stoever, Regina N. Bradley, Kyra Gaunt, Emily Lordi, Alexandra
Apolloni, Karen Tongson, Daphne Brooks, José Muñoz, Jack Halberstam, Karl Hagstrom
Miller, Scott Poulson-Bryant, Charles Hughes, Elliott Powell, Aimee Meredith Cox,
Jessica Feldman, Paula Mejia, Zandria Robinson, Devon Maloney, Mike D’Errico, Roshy
Kheshti, K.T. Ewing, Christine Bacareza Balance, Shanté Paradigm Smalls, Miles Grier,
Kevin Fellezs, Ken Wissoker, and especially Charles McGovern, who has been a steady
source of encouragement and wisdom throughout this process. Also thanks to Alex
Corey, Brian T. Edwards, Eric Lott, and the other scholars I was lucky enough to meet at
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the Dartmouth Futures Institute, and to the radiant Naazneen Diwan, Arabic teacher and
scholar extraordinaire.
done this without you. Elizabeth Pittman, Eid Mohamed, Amber Wiley, Matt Kohlstedt,
Clara Lewis, Joan Fragazy Troyano, David Kieran, Laura Cook Kenna, Kevin Strait,
Charity Fox, Emily Dufton, Thomas Dolan, Chelsey Faloona, Katie Kein, Sam Yates,
Carol Lautier-Woodley, Kim Pendleton, Mara Caelin, Pat Nugent, Maia Gil’Adi, and
Scott Larsen were all great sources of sanity, friendship, and laughter. Ramzi Fawaz and
Michael Horka pushed me to be a better person and scholar, and made life much more
fun in the process. Dora Danylevich was there for every fraught step of the revisions and
the job market, and I owe her for keeping me grounded and motivated with many emojis.
To my meat cohort, particularly hot dog Bess Matassa and kielbasa Katie Schank, thanks
My trusty writing group members Katie Schank and Shannon Davies Mancus
provided ceaseless moral support and read infinite drafts, and I honestly could not have
finished this project without our Google hangouts. I want to recognize Asuka
Madenokoji, Jawziya Zaman, and Chita Middleton for their loyal friendship over the past
fifteen years, and awesome Scrippsies Andrea Gutierrez, Emi Saito, Amy Tsurumi, Tenly
Chira, Katja Hildebrandt, Emily Jaksa, Lydia Paar, and Stefani Crabtree. Thank you,
Adam Chefitz, for helping me learn how to listen. Twitter friends were a lifeline at
various points in this process and I want to acknowledge the lovely people I met there,
especially Liana Silva, Lili Loofbourow, and Aaron Bady. The virtual company of others
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in Phinished.org’s Mojoville and the IRL support of Portland VPhD members were other
My family has provided vital support. I owe thanks to my dad for talking through
ideas, to my sister for all of her love and encouragement over the years, and to my mom,
who saw me through the many ups and downs of the PhD process and showed
unconditional support. I couldn’t have done it without her or without Emma, my sweet
canine sister who lived long enough to see me finish the first draft. At 102, my Great
Auntie Pussy never ceases to astonish me with her intelligence and wit. I want to thank
the extended Drury family: my Uncles Noel and Mark for bestowing their music learnin’
on me, Aunt Patty, Aunt Helen, and Aunt Donna, and my awesome Drury cousins –
Jason, Amy, Aaron, Dorothy, Tom, Joe, Colin, and Eileen, and Michael, Danielle, and
Sophie. Finally, I owe thanks to Ian, who had faith in me from the very beginning of this
project, and to Christopher, who taught me to trust myself above all. Lastly, to Joshua
Colwell, who not only kept me going with invigorating discussions, Empire breaks, and a
steady stream of 1990s rap lyrics, but also pushed me to question my assumptions and
think about life in new ways. His love and partnership made the finishing process more
bearable and helped breathe new life into my intellectual and creative interests.
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Abstract of Dissertation
Sonic Affinities: The Middle East in the American Popular Music Imaginary, 1955-2014
musical relationships between the U.S. and the Middle East. Through a set of four case
studies, the project argues that music has been a key site of cultural encounter between
the U.S. and Arab culture. The first chapter undertakes a study of postwar exotica music,
performers. The second chapter investigates the iconic jazz musician Sun Ra’s sonic
engagement with ancient Egypt, arguing that Ra’s music embodies an Afro-Orientalist
aesthetic. The third chapter analyzes the role of world music from the Middle East and
the politics of affiliation in the 1990s, and the final chapter performs a study of Arab
the categories of “Arab” and “American” are linked via a flexible sonic imaginary that
incorporates the two cultures. Secondly, it highlights the interplay between musical
production and ethnic and national identities, and finally, it rethinks critical examination
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Table of Contents
Dedication ……………………………………………………………………………….iv
Acknowledgments …………………………………………………………………….....v
Abstract of Dissertation……………………………………………………………….....ix
List of Figures…………………………………………………………………………....xi
Chapter 1: Ethnic Exotica and Mock Orientalism in the American Sonic Imaginary…..26
Chapter 3: Affiliatory Desires: Consuming the Middle East in World Music …….…....95
Chapter 4: Counter-orienting the War on Terror: Arab Hip Hop and Global Black
Consciousness…………………………………………………………………………..131
References..……………………………………………………………………….…….179
x
List of Figures
Figure 1…………………………………………………………………………..............16
Figure 2…………………………………………………………………….…………… 50
Figure 2…………………………………………………………………………………. 59
Figure 3…………………………………………………………………………………. 64
Figure 5…………………………………………………………………………………131
Figure 6………………………………………………………………………………....162
Figure 8…………………………………………………………………………………168
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Introduction: Sonic Affinities
In 2010, the polarizing American pop singer Kesha (formerly Ke$ha) released the
song “Take it off,” sampling a melody often called the “Snake Charmer Song” or
“There’s a Place in France.” This tune is one of the most widely recognized melodies in
the U.S., chanted on school playgrounds and used in beginning piano books. As the
“snake charmer” title suggests, the tonality of the scale evokes a vaudevillian orientalist
fantasy one might see in a cartoon or a carnival sideshow. Kesha’s version appeared as
part of her debut album, Animal, which some critics disparaged for its heavy use of auto-
tune. The song narrates an escapist fantasy in the form of an all-night rave, “a place
downtown/ where the freaks all come around.” The “Snake Charmer” sample adds a
sexualized exotic component to the song. This well-known melody actually originated in
1895 with “The Streets of Cairo or the Little Country Maid,” inspired by the Little Cairo
section of the Chicago World’s Fair. This 1895 popular song was likely one of the first
attempts to “hear” the Middle East in American popular music, and the melody’s
appearance in a 2010 pop song signals the long scope of cultural memory. Though few of
Kesha’s listeners were likely aware its origins, the melody still bears deeply entrenched
orientalist associations.
complexities of American engagements with Arab culture over the past century.
meaningful. Scholars in a variety of fields, including history, politics, and literature, have
addressed the topics of American engagement with the Arab world and U.S. global
1
power, but few have argued for the relevance of both sound and music in narrating
American relationships with Arabness. My own intervention is to argue that sound, and
music specifically, has provided an embodied and dynamic means of mapping and
Not only have portrayals of the Middle East provided inspiration for musical
production, but they have allowed people of multiple backgrounds to locate and reinvent
one of the central cultural processes through which the abstract concept of the polis
comes into bodily experience...the political force of music derives from its capacity to
aesthetics can have a real political effect in the sense that what makes music beautiful is
the way that its interlocking pieces fit together, not unlike a social or political
This dissertation argues that sound is a vehicle for social imaginaries and
affiliations, and it has been one of the critical ways that concepts of “Arabness,” or
interpretations of Arab culture and identity, have been mapped in American culture.2 The
sounds that have come to symbolize Arabness have origins both inside and outside Arab
communities, and they form what I call “sonic Arabness,” revealing that Americans have
been continually invested in a project of reimagining what Arab culture looks and sounds
1
Barry Shank, The Political Force of Musical Beauty, Durham, NC: Duke University
Press, 2014, p. 16.
2
While I primarily focus on musical performances, I am committed to thinking about
music as part of the wider category of sound, which opens up new approaches. In the
particular context of Arab culture, it is worthwhile to note the significance of the call to
prayer in the Muslim world.
2
like, and how the Middle East as a whole should be understood in relationship to the U.S.
As Shank writes, “The affective power of musico-cultural figures can change the
relationship of the ethos to the demos, shifting the relations of those who are legitimately
included inside the political community.”3 Therefore, music helps determine the capacity
The four case studies I address demonstrate the role of music in negotiating
representations of Arabness and Arab American ethnic identity in the 20th and 21st
centuries, and in offering a map to navigate the terrain of difference and identification.
The cases I examine challenge traditional European orientalism while introducing four
desires, and global black consciousness. Each of the examples I analyze reveals a
recurring theme of sonic affiliation, worth careful examination because they illustrate
ways that the categories “Arab” and “American” have consistently overlapped and
exceeded ethnic and national boundaries. In light of the “clash of civilizations” narrative
important.4 Moreover, sound rarely operates independently, and these sonic texts
frequently work in conjunction with visual media. Just as visual art and advertisements
have made orientalist representations of Arab culture discernible in material ways, music
3
Shank, The Political Force of Musical Beauty, p. 16
4
Samuel Huntington theorized in 1993 that cultural and religious differences would
cause a “Clash of Civilizations” in the post-Cold War global climate. Bernard Lewis had
previously used the phrase in a 1990 Atlantic Monthly article entitled “The Roots of
Muslim Rage.”
3
Since the traumatic events of September 11, 2001, there has been a heightened
focus on the Arab world as a source of extremism and violence. Media accounts, as well
as political discourse, have raised concerns about terrorism being a problem endemic to
the Middle East and influencing the ideology of Americans susceptible to violent
rhetoric. Anxiety about the possibility of another attack in the U.S. fueled the “War on
Terror” and generated an atmosphere of surveillance whereby Muslims and Arabs, both
popular obsession with the Arab world, and more particularly the danger associated with
Islamist extremism, emphasizes a version of history with 9/11 as the origin point. In fact,
the story of US encounters with the Middle East is highly complex and reaches back
much further.
My motivating inquiry for this dissertation is to ask what the recent history of
Arab-American relationships sounds like, and how those sounds can shed light on the
variety of ways the US has related to the Arab world over the past sixty years. As
Alexandra Vazquez has suggested, listening offers insight into otherwise indecipherable
realms: “Listening in detail is a mode of engaging things that are bigger than ourselves. It
chronicling the full history of these sonic encounters, I seek to examine cases that typify
cultural and political moments and to emphasize unexpected ways that Americans have
5
Evelyn Alsultany, “Selling American Diversity and Muslim American Identity through
Nonprofit Advertising Post 9/11,” American Quarterly, Vol 59 (3): 2007: 593-622.
6 Alexandra Vazquez, Listening in Detail: Performances of Cuban Music, Durham, NC:
4
understanding any Western engagement with Arab culture, for the purposes of this
project, I argue that American sonic engagements must also be understood via Josh Kun’s
notion of the “audio racial imagination,” which Kun defines as “…the extent to which
meanings and ideas about race, racial identity, and racialization within the U.S. have been
generated, developed, and experienced at the level of sound and music.”7 Orientalism
for thinking about the power structures enacted in Western representations of a generic
Orient. The audio racial imagination, however, refers to sound-based material and
provides a broader framework for analyzing sound and representation. Moreover, the
audio racial imagination is key to the Arab/American sonic imaginary since race and
racial identity have always informed the way white Americans have listened to sounds
associated with Arab culture. As in Kesha’s song “Take it Off,” sonic Arabness has been
consistently associated with the performance of female sexuality. For Arab Americans,
sounds have been an important part of the ongoing project of community building and the
and ethnomusicology, I locate my project in the relatively new field of sound studies
broadening the scope of study beyond music alone, sound studies brings fresh
perspectives to the consideration of sound in all of its forms. Thinking about sound as
vibration and movement widens the horizon of what is possible both for approaches and
objects of study. More specifically, this allows me to ask how sounds have become
7
Josh Kun, Audiotopia: Music, Race, and America, Berkeley: University of California
Press, 2005, p. 16.
5
associated with “Arabness” in the U.S. and what meanings have resulted. As Jonathan
Sterne writes, “Sound studies’ challenge is to think across sounds, to consider sonic
performances or another path into sonic life.”8 Rather than limiting the study of music to
the analysis of the music itself or viewing it as akin to literary texts, sound studies allows
for a multi-pronged approach. While the main sources I examine are musical, I maintain
One of the major contributions of sound studies is the prioritizing of sound and
music as both social and embodied practices. Sound’s power is located in the social or
sonic imaginary, but also in the body of the performer and listener. As Gayle Wald
contends, the notion of “vibrations” is one way of mapping sound’s affective potential,
theorization of the way that it impacts those who experience it, and for the connection
that it can create between artists and audiences in public spaces.9 Wald has theorized the
“affective compact,” a relationship between the performer and listener or viewer that
creates a sense of community. Specifically, she contends that during the 1970s, the TV
show Soul produced an inclusive affective compact with its mostly African American
8
Jonathan Sterne, ed. The Sound Studies Reader, New York: Routledge, 2012, p. 3.
9
Gayle Wald, “Soul Vibrations: Black Music and Black Freedom in Sound and Space,”
in Josh Kun and Kara Keeling, eds. Sound Clash: Listening to American Studies,
Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2012.
6
viewers informed by the black radical politics of the moment.10 The examples I examine
in the proceeding chapters all revolve around a guiding impulse toward affiliation.
My work also draws on recent scholarship in sound studies and popular music
studies by Jennifer Stoever, who developed a theory of the “sonic color line,” or what she
calls the “Mutually constitutive relationship between sound, listening, and race.”11
contingent. She argues, “The sonic color line forms a dominant sonic protocol that
attempts to contain the sound of ‘Others’ and silence alternative listening practices as
aberrant and dangerous, even inhuman.” Stoever refers to the way that sounds linked to
African American and Puerto Rican bodies in urban spaces are heard and categorized as
“noise” and interpreted as polluting public space, and I look to this theory of sound and
race to consider ways that ideas about Arabness have been negotiated through sonic
representations.
popular music assumes a generalized audience, but my sources have largely gone
unexamined by scholars of music and identity. Although one could write an account of
peripheral instances that bring to light what I call “sonic affinities.” This means that
while some of the primary sources I examine were relatively successful among specific
10
Gayle Wald, It’s Been Beautiful: Soul! and Black Power Television, Durham, NC:
Duke University Press, 2015.
11
Jennifer Stoever-Ackerman, “Splicing the Sonic Color Line: Tony Schwartz Remixes
Postwar Nueva York,” Social Text, Spring 2010 (28): 59-85.
7
audiences, few of them reached wide mainstream appeal. It is the associations embedded
in sonic imaginaries and the performative implications that are my main focus. These
sonic imaginaries and performances are perpetually bound up with political forces,
however, and these are the intricacies that I seek to untangle. In a series of diverse
tendencies.
My project entails locating the Middle East in the American sonic imaginary, the
realm in which meanings become attached to sounds. The sonic imaginary is linked to
what Charles Taylor has called the “social imaginary,” a framework that undergirds all
societal institutions and makes particular practices possible. As Taylor defines it, the
social imaginary is “the ways that people imagine their social existence, how they fit
together with others, how things go on between them and their fellows, the expectations
that are normally met, and the deeper normative notions and images that underlie these
expectations.”12 Therefore, the social imaginary does not simply exist at the level of
theory, but it facilitates real life behaviors. Taylor lays out the economy, the public
sphere, and self-governance as the three main categories of the modern Western social
imaginary. Adding the sonic realm to the social imaginary would mean thinking of sound
Melani McAlister’s book Epic Encounters, which charts the cultural history of American
engagement with the Middle East as a region and as a concept. McAlister identifies four
main categories that explain U.S. concern with the region since World War II: military
12
Charles Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries, Durham, NC: Duke University Press,
2003, p. 23.
8
and strategic interests, religious attachment, support for Israel, and oil. She argues that
cultural products such as biblical epics and the King Tut show both reflected and
influenced public opinion on U.S. foreign policy. As she claims, “The ‘domestic’ politics
of race and gender have been central to U.S. representations of the Middle East, and
representations of the Middle East have been fully implicated in the nationalized
formations of racial and gender identities.”13 McAlister’s study proposes several major
critiques of Edward Said’s project and ways that post-World War II American
representations of the Middle East worked differently than in Said’s formulation. These
differences lead to her claim that post-World War II American representations are post-
orientalist, meaning that they no longer adhere to Said’s precise definition of them as
Orientalism, as Said originally theorized it, divided “East” from “West” and
“them” vs. “us” in a simplistic and binary manner. The “Orient” was used to refer to a
wide range of geographical locations, from East Asia to the Middle East. For Said,
orientalism also relied on gendered associations that characterized the East as feminine
and West as masculine. Orientalist cultural products, including literature and visual art,
reproduced ideological views that maintained European colonialism. These objects were
citational in the sense that they were inspired by previous representations and were rarely
of the Middle East often don't line up exactly with these markers, firstly because the
unified “us” breaks down with the American emphasis on multiculturalism and the
complexity of domestic race relations, and secondly because the logic of gender doesn’t
13
Melani McAlister, Epic Encounters: Culture, Media, and U.S. Interests in the Middle
East Since 1945, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2001, p. 271.
9
necessarily align. The sources I examine fit into the category of “post-orientalism,” and I
argue that they build on this concept through engagements with sonic performance.
relatively large body of literature about exoticism in Western Art Music. Much of this
music from the 17th century to the 20th centuries, covering both opera and instrumental
compositions in his book Musical Exoticism: Images and Reflections. Locke argues that
rather than focusing solely on the sonic elements of musical exoticism, scholars should
also take into account the extra-musical features of the composition. 14 Said himself
analyzed Verdi’s Aida as an example of orientalist opera in his 1993 book Culture and
for failing to take seriously the importance of sociopolitical context. Perhaps somewhat in
response to this critique, Timothy D. Taylor structured his book Beyond Exoticism:
Western Music and the World around the sub-categories of colonialism, imperialism and
Art Music in connection to my own project is the long precedent for musically
identifying an Arab exotic. Hearing the Middle East is not a new phenomenon, and in
14
When Richard Strauss’s opera Salomé premiered in New York in 1907, it caused a
scandal. Though the production was shut down shortly after it opened, it produced a
cultural fascination. The story includes a “dance of the seven veils” and a scene where
Salome kisses the lips of the beheaded John the Baptist.
15
For example, Taylor covers enlightenment-era opera as well as world music in the 20th
century.
10
fact there have been certain sounds associated with Arabness in the West for centuries.
The concept of “aural orientalism” has been described in detail as it connects to the genre
of European art music. There are fundamental differences in the exoticism displayed in
Western Art Music, by and large a product of elite European culture, and American
popular music, which is consumed much more broadly. As performances, sounds carry
complex meanings that rely on past references for their significance to be conveyed to the
audience. Performance theorists such as Daphne Brooks, Joseph Roach and Diana Taylor
performances, or what Alexandra Vazquez has termed “listening in detail,” that the
haunting or residue emerges. Sounds, like theater performances, are fleeting, but they
I begin my study in the 1950s because this was when Arab Americans began to
play a significant role in musical representations of Arabness. Not only did Arab
Americans begin to play in nightclubs during this era, but they were featured on
recordings that were marketed to the public at large rather than to specific ethnic
communities. In the early decades of the 20th century there were many small record labels
releasing material that was meant for immigrant audiences eager to hear music from
home.16 A number of Tin Pan alley-inspired songs took up Middle East-related themes
and humorously engaged with the American fascination with the “Near East” or the
“Orient” inherited from 19th century European orientalism. Thus, prior to the 1950s,
recordings and performances by Arab Americans were created largely for an Arabic-
speaking audience, while orientalist popular songs were geared toward the white
16
Ethnic Recordings in America: A Neglected Heritage, American Folklife Center,
Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1982.
11
mainstream. These two strands of musical development came together beginning in the
1950s with exotica records, and it is the “inside” and “outside” perspectives of sonic
Arabness that I am interested in throughout this dissertation. I argue that the complexity
Arab culture. Furthermore, the four cases I undertake in this project permit examinations
It is also worth noting that after World War II, the U.S. began to take an active
economic and military interest in the Middle East and the region became part of broader
Cold War power struggles. In the 1950s U.S. leaders saw the Arab world, and specifically
Egypt, as a potential vehicle for Cold War containment. Gamal Abdel Nasser sought to
mobilize Arab nationalism and to minimize Western influence and British imperial
power, while Eisenhower hoped to assert American influence. This relationship reached a
breaking point over the nationalization of the Suez Canal in 1956, which set the stage for
increasingly antagonistic diplomatic relations over the second half of the 20th century.
Although my main focus is not on international politics and diplomatic history, it is worth
music, it is worthwhile to return to the Chicago World’s Fair and Columbian Exposition
of 1893. While dancers from the Arab world were present at the 1876 Centennial
Exposition in Philadelphia, it wasn’t until 1893 that the style known as “belly dance”
12
became widely recognized.17 Reactions to these early performances suggest that both the
dance and the accompanying music were widely judged to be strange and indecent,
setting the foundation for subsequent interpretations of sonic Arabness. Additionally, the
1893 World’s Fair marks the first known instance when Arab musical performance was
recorded in the U.S. The Columbian Exposition introduced the American public to
numerous foreign cultures in the form of performances and exhibitions, situating them as
sites of amusement and consumption on the Midway Plaisance. As scholars have noted,
the architecture of the “white city” was designed to promote the sense that the Western
world was the pinnacle of civilization. Visitors were encouraged to view the midway, in
contrast, as a set of carnivalesque novelties. One observer called the midway a “sliding
scale of humanity,” meaning that cultural and racial groups were imagined to inhabit a
hierarchy.18 This framework strengthened the belief common to colonial powers at the
The controversial and wildly popular performances in the Algerian Village, Cairo
Street, Turkish Village, and Persian Palace drew on an existing 19th century orientalist
fascination with the “Near East,” broadly conceived as a place of sheikhs, harems, and
oases. Sol Bloom, the creator and manager of the Algerian Village, coined the term
“belly dance,” which he translated from the French term for the dance, danse du ventre.
Bloom initiated the plan for the production after visiting the French Exposition
17
Charles A. Kennedy, “When Cairo Met Main Street: Little Egypt, Salome Dancers, and
the World’s Fairs of 1893 and 1904,” In Michael Saffle, ed. Music and Culture in
America: 1861-1918, New York: Routledge, 1998. p. 271.
18
Donna Carlton, Searching for Little Egypt, Bloomington, IN: Int’l Dance Discovery,
1995.
13
Universelle in 1889 where there was a replication of an Algerian Village.19 The French
cultural experience for French subjects. French orientalism, as Said argued, served to
translated to an American context when entrepreneur Sol Bloom obtained the rights to
bring the performers from the Exposition Universelle. Not only did the French version
inspire the American show in Chicago, but Bloom found a way to reproduce it nearly
identically by bringing the same dancers to the U.S. Though Americans were not directly
connected to the colonial project in North Africa, the constellation of orientalist symbols
they witnessed had already become associated with Arab culture through a European
lens. Since these symbols were a step removed from their original context, they took on
new meanings. For Americans, the sights and sounds of the Columbian World’s Fair
“Near East” performances were doubly exotic, linked to both France and North Africa.20
Belly dance was policed according to the laws of Victorian morality. Detractors
were outspoken about its indecency, and the practice was later outlawed in several cities.
Critics positioned belly dance outside the bounds of white normative femininity,
regarding dancers with both curiosity and distaste. Similarly, reactions to the
Jarmakani has claimed, much of the concern stemmed from anxiety about the excesses of
female sexuality: “[the belly dancer] represented both a notion of the female body as
19
Erik Larsen, Devil in the White City, New York: Vintage Books, 2004, p. 133.
20
See Brian T. Edwards, Morocco Bound: Disorienting America’s Maghreb, from
Casablanca to the Marrakech Express, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2005.
14
dangerous, tempting, lascivious power, and a notion of the female body as a symbol for
the creative power of life and human origins.”21 The association of belly dance
performance with exotic femininity made it both incendiary and potentially profitable. 22
As Bloom explained in his autobiography, “When the public learned that the literal
translation was ‘belly dance,’ they delightedly concluded that it must be salacious and
Bloom illustrated the link between belly dance and its sonic accompaniment at
one of the early performances. As the story goes, while introducing the dancers at a
private Chicago Press Club show, he discovered that the pianist hired for the event did
not know any suitable music. Bloom himself sat down at the piano and improvised the
melody that would become known as the “snake charmer dance.” Whether or not this is
accurate, it has become the popular mythology of the tune.24 As Bloom did not copyright
the melody, it was available for interpretation by future composers and songwriters. The
son of Jewish immigrants from Poland, Bloom later went on to become a member of the
House of Representatives in New York. Though his career path led him away from the
arts, Bloom’s entrepreneurial interest in Oriental dance helped create a long-lasting belly
dance craze, as well as a melody that would come to signify Arabness for many decades
21
Amira Jarmakani, Imagining Arab Womanhood: The Cultural Mythology of Veils,
Harems, and Belly Dancers in the U.S., London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010, p. 126
22
Along with the name “belly dance” the style introduced at the 1893 World’s Fair also
became called the “hootchy coochy,” which carried sexual connotations and also was a
term used in minstrel shows.
23
Sol Bloom, The Autobiography of Sol Bloom, New York: G.P. Putnam & Sons, 1948,
p. 135.
24
Some have speculated that Bloom actually appropriated the tune from an Algerian
melody called “Kradoutja” that had been popular in France since the 1600s.
15
to come. He was also the first of many Jewish Americans who nurtured Arab cultural
expression.25
song titled “The Streets of Cairo or the Poor Little Country Maid.” His wife then helped
popularize the tune: “When Thornton’s wife, Bonnie Thornton, sang the song in
Figure 1: Bonnie Thornton, “The Streets of Cairo or the Poor Little Country Maid”
vaudeville, presumably in the ‘rube’ costume in which she is pictured on the sheet music
cover (fig. 1), she probably enlivened her performance with a parody of cooch dancing,
25
Lacking firsthand accounts about the significance of Jewish involvement, it is difficult
to speculate about the reasons for this overlap between Arab artists and Jewish managers.
The Sephardic background of some Jewish Americans likely provided them with a
familiarity with Middle Eastern culture.
16
her inappropriate costume adding to the humor.”26 The tongue-in-cheek lyrics recount a
young girl’s lost innocence as she arrives in the big city and eventually resorts to posing
“in abbreviated clothes.” Her initial virtue is described in the chorus: “She never saw the
streets of Cairo/ On the Midway she had never strayed/ She never saw the kutchy kutchy/
Poor little country maid.” Despite never “straying” on the Midway, she is corrupted by
the nightlife and the bawdy lyrics suggest that she infects the “dudes who were in a
female promiscuity, while indicating that the young country maid’s sexuality is both an
embarrassment and a potential threat. Though her ethnicity is never named, the melody
and the chorus’s reference to the “kutchy kutchy” dance links her to the racialized and
corrupting performance of belly dance. The ultimate message is that men should beware
of seemingly innocent young maids, lest they fall victim to their dangerous sexual habits.
After the belly dance craze caught on, “The Streets of Cairo” became the first in a series
of popular songs depicting the Oriental East. These songs, mostly written in the Tin Pan
Alley style with love-related lyrics, included titles such as “Desert Dreams,” “Oriental
Moon,” and “Lady of the Nile,” and their popularity lasted into the 1930s.27
Likewise, the 1921 Rudolph Valentino film The Sheik inspired a wave of musical
responses, including the song “The Sheik of Araby,” which was a Tin Pan Alley hit and
subsequently became a jazz standard covered by a wide range of artists including Duke
Ellington, Django Reinhardt, and The Beatles. Critics speculate that the song became so
26
Larry Hamberlin, Tin Pan Opera: Operatic Novelty Songs in the Ragtime Era, Oxford,
UK: Oxford University Press, 2011, p. 110.
27
Other popular song titles include “Eastern Dreams,” “Sinbad,” and “Turkish Delight.”
17
popular among southern jazz artists because of a local connection to the Louisiana town
of Arabi, a suburb of New Orleans known for legal gambling. “The Sheik of Araby”
helped lengthen the cultural memory of the Valentino film and at the same time
formulated new meanings. Locating “the sheik” in Louisiana brought a story about a
distant place much closer to home, and its performance by African American artists
An excerpt from “The Sheik of Araby” also appears in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925
novel The Great Gatsby, when the narrator overhears a group of girls in Central Park
In the novel, the lyrics allude to Gatsby’s concealed love for Daisy, but it also illustrates
the massive popularity of both the song and the film in the 1920s. Moreover, the Beatles’
cover in the 1960s demonstrates the song’s remarkable staying power. “The Sheik of
appeal in Louisiana and status as a jazz standard are indicative of music’s ability to shift
Beyond the category of Tin Pan Alley songs featuring Oriental themes, in the first
decades of the 20th century there was also a booming ethnic recording industry, which
28 The Sheik depicts the story of Diana, a British noblewoman who travels alone to North
Africa and is kidnapped by a handsome sheikh. Though she initially resists his advances,
she eventually succumbs and falls in love. The question of cross-racial romance is
answered when Diana discovers that the sheik is actually of British and Spanish ancestry.
The North African tribe adopted him after his parents died during an excursion in the
desert.
29
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, New York: Scribner, 1925.
18
included Arab and Arab American recordings. These albums were produced by small
record labels both in the U.S. and abroad, and distributed by Arab-owned companies such
as Rashid Music Co. in Brooklyn. These labels included Al Chark, Baidaphon, and
Arabphon. Ethnic-based recording niches were widespread in the 1920s and 1930s,
marketed largely to immigrants from Eastern Europe and Latin America. For Arabs
living in diaspora, the records created a cultural link to the homeland in the form of
sound. Unlike Tin Pan Alley songs about the Oriental East, the Arab music distributed by
ethnic labels was created by and for Arabs and Arab Americans. The marketing niches of
these two genres point to the relative cultural separation between Arab Americans and the
Some belly dance performances, including those at the Midway, featured live
One writer recounted a performance in New York with the following description: “Four
alleged musicians came on the rickety stage of the dingy little theatre, and for fifteen
minutes gave what was intended for music, because each of the players had a musical
instrument.”31 This critic’s dismissive tone reveals a high degree of skepticism about the
sounds being performed and goes so far to suggest that they did not resemble music.
Another journalist, Kate Jordan, described a danse du ventre performance as “queer” and
“ugly” in an account of a show in Brooklyn before the dance was officially banned in
30
One of the major disconnects was linguistic, as most Arab labels produced all-Arabic
albums. This extended to a generational divide, as not all second-generation Arab
Americans learned Arabic from their parents.
31
Police and Law Defied: The Midway Dance Stopped, but Only for a While.” New York
Times, December 5, 1893.
19
Jordan writes that the performance gives the viewer a glimpse into “something
quite out of touch with the cable cars, the telephone and the commercial atmosphere of
New York.”32 The reference to the “turquoise sky of Egypt and Algeria” invites readers
to imagine that belly dance is a virtual means of experiencing North Africa. Though
denouncing the practice as “ugly,” her provocative account is also designed to elicit
curiosity: “The dancer commences to sway her body in a dreamy way, while a turbaned
Turk in the background strikes a throbbing, whirring monotone from a one stringed
is both embodied and eroticized; her choice of adjectives links the sonic and sensory
aspects of the performance. The music provides another layer of stimulation, heightening
the illicitness of the experience and effectively combining the allure of the “exotic” and
“erotic.”
The eroticism that was eventually associated with both the sonic and visual
aspects of belly dance was deemed unfit for polite society. Bertha Palmer, a prominent
member of Chicago society and the head of the Board of Lady Managers for the World’s
Fair took offense to a New York Times column identifying her as an audience member at
that Palmer had not in fact attended the performances as was previously reported, thereby
defending her moral standing. As such accounts indicate, some early American responses
32
Kate Jordan, “The Danse du Ventre,” Yenowine’s Illustrated News, Milwaukee, WI:
Dec 30, 1893, p. 4
33
Ibid
20
femininity, and they also suggested that the accompanying sounds and music could be a
Among the major recorded documents from the 1893 World’s Fair is a collection
of sound recordings made by Benjamin Ives Gilman, which are believed to be some of
the first ethnographic recordings ever made. Most scholarly examinations of the
performances have focused on the dance itself rather than the significance of music.
Benjamin Ives Gilman’s recordings are a unique window into what the accompanying
music actually sounded like. The majority of recordings are of Javanese, Samoan, and
Native American music. Among the nine “Turkish” recordings are three Arabic-language
songs from Ottoman Syria, as well as several instrumental tracks.34 Gilman identified the
instruments as an “oriental lute,” “oriental harp,” “small drum,” and “tambourine.”35 The
recordings themselves are somewhat hard to hear due to surface noise, and the
instruments are more audible than the vocalists. However, it is clear that several of the
songs are in Arabic and the others are in Turkish, reflecting the easy conflation of regions
in the Ottoman Empire at this particular moment. The tracks are in multiple scales with
various degrees of semi-tone employment, signaling that the musicians were well versed
in Arabic music.
Not only are Gilman’s recordings a document of the World’s Fair, but they offer
insight into early sound recording. Like many of his contemporaries, including John
Lomax, Gilman took on sound recording as a duty to humanity, fearing that indigenous
musics would transform and become extinct with increasing cross-cultural contact.
34
Benjamin Ives Gilman Recordings, Library of Congress, No. 75-83.
35
American Folklife Center, The Federal Cylinder Project: A Guide to Field Cylinder
Collections in Federal Agencies, Vol 8, Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1984.
21
Though trained as a psychiatrist rather than an anthropologist, Gilman promoted the
relativist view that all music should be taken seriously and regarded as artistic
production:
It is our own ears that are oftenest at fault when we hear in exotic music only a
strident monotony or a dismal uproar to be avoided and forgotten. To most non-
Europeans their music is as passionate and sacred as ours to us and among many
it is an equally elaborate and all-pervading art.36
Gilman also professed fears about European influence and the fact that “exotic music is
already dying on the ears of its discoverers.”37 There were several opposing views on
“exotic” music at this late-19th century moment. The popular view suggested that the
sounds were both intriguing and abrasive, while the “scientific” view took a relativist
approach and sought to educate the public about the validity and of music from non-
Western cultures. These two views were present for much of the 20th century. With the
rise of the field of ethnomusicology, the scientific recording and categorizing of sounds
became a major priority, but it wasn’t until the rise of “world music” in the 1980s that
Not only did the belly dance performance at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair
intrigue audiences and allow them to believe that they had experienced a genuine taste of
Arab culture, but they established ongoing performance archetypes. The “Streets of
Cairo” exhibit was reproduced at Coney Island in New York City in 1896 after the
success of the performances at the World’s Fair, and the figure of “Little Egypt” came to
play a major role in the popular imagination of the time. While the precise identity of the
original Little Egypt remains unclear, it is likely that she was a dancer billed as the star of
36
Benjamin Ives Gilman, “The Science of Exotic Music,” Science, Vol 30 No 772 (Oct
1909): p. 535.
37
Ibid
22
the “Cairo Street” portion of the world’s fair. Numerous future performers took on the
name, and a “Little Egypt” dancer became legendary when she was caught performing at
an elite party in New York City after the police commissioner had banned the dance
style. The Little Egypt phenomenon demonstrates the widespread attraction of the
oriental dance craze, which inspired a great deal of concern and controversy.
The performances at the 1893 World’s Fair are important for their role in
popularizing the form that came to be known as belly dance and directing public
perceptions the music that went with it. The popular songs inspired by the World’s Fair
which was inspired by European versions but also took on its own uniquely sensationalist
qualities. Early musical examples such as “The Streets of Cairo” and “The Sheik of
Araby” both illustrate the 19th and early-20th century American popular association
between Arab culture and female promiscuity. More broadly, treatment of gender forms a
were heavily sexualized in 19th century orientalism, the cultural politics of female agency
This dissertation is organized into four case studies that shed light on the
Arab/American sonic imaginary at particular moments in time. Each of the four sonic and
and global black consciousness, offers a paradigm through which to explore the cultural
politics of a particular musical genre and historical moment. My first chapter examines
the exotica craze of the 1950s and 60s in light of two Arab American performers, Eddie
“the Sheik” Kochak and Muhammad Al Bakkar. I argue that these two figures performed
23
an exaggerated form of orientalism that I call “mock orientalism,” which works to
deconstruct the category altogether, and performances were important at a moment when
Arab American identity was first coming into fruition. Mock orientalism describes sonic
performances of excess. Their music made these two groupings both audible
simultaneously and helped make a new Arab American diasporic configuration clearly
audible.
The second chapter moves to Sun Ra’s eccentric performances and his longtime
theory employed by Bill Mullen to describe Afro-Asian alliances, illuminates the radical
invent new sonic pathways linking ancient and modern Egypt. I suggest that Sun Ra
deployed his interest in Egypt to ground his music and reinvent his performance persona.
argue that Ra helped build a unique Afro-Arab affiliation that was unique during its
cultural moment.
The third chapter moves forward to the and 1990s and early 2000’s to undertake
configuration in which, beginning in the 1980s and intensifying after 9/11, liberal
American audiences sought to affiliate with the Arab world via their musical preferences.
Focusing on the Putumayo Arabic Groove compilation and performances by Cheb Mami,
24
Ofra Haza, and Natacha Atlas, the chapter makes the case that identifications with these
artists helped Americans feel politically “liberal” at a time when Arabs and Arab
Finally, the fourth chapter looks at Arab American musical responses to the post-
9/11 political landscape, which have mostly come in the form of hip hop. Global black
consciousness emerges out of the resistant genre of Arab hip hop, which seeks to
The chapter argues that the vehicle of hip hop has provided young Arabs and Arab
Americans with a powerful counter-narrative to the War on Terror by tapping into what I
call a “global black consciousness.” As I contend, not only do Arab and Arab America
hip hop artists challenge the context of Islamophobia and Arabophobia, but they are
cross-ethnic and diasporic alliances. These kinds of alliances offer concrete possibilities
for resisting Manichean narratives of good and evil that have arisen in response to
25
Chapter 1: Ethnic Exotica and Mock Orientalism in the American Sonic Imaginary
The opening chorus of a 1959 novelty song finds Syrian American singer and
percussionist Eddie “the Sheik” Kochak addressing his listeners with Arabic terms of
endearment, telling them to “rock, ya habibi/ roll, ya ayuni” and proclaiming: “Dig that
crazy mob/ they’re waiting for the shish kabob.” The song, “Shish-Ka-bob Rock,” from
Kochak’s versatile early repertoire, is likely the first and only bilingual English and
Arabic rock and roll song. The campy lyrics are an ode to the recognizable meat dish, and
the rock and roll beat and Arabic percussion lend a uniquely American blend. Kochak’s
Brooklyn accent surfaces in his pronunciation of the phrase “it’s a real terrific treat,”
contrasting with his rolling of the “r” in “very” in the previous line. His Syrian American
and Brooklyn backgrounds are both audible, though his rolled “r” is likely more of an
“Shish-Ka-bob Rock” was released in 1959, the year after Ritchie Valens
recorded his hit “La Bamba,” and in the midst of a newfound interest in “ethnic” musics.
The song was never a hit as Kochak likely hoped, but it is instructive nonetheless for its
overlapping sonic imaginaries. “Shish Kebob Rock” gives listeners no choice but to hear
an Arab American presence in this distinctively Arab take on rock and roll. The song was
released as a single along with the calypso number, “No, No You’re Not For Me.”
Kochak’s early work proves an eclectic mix, incorporating sounds derived from jazz,
Calypso, Tin Pan Alley, Latin music, and early rock and roll. Kochak’s performance
38
Eddie Kochak, Amer-Abic Caravan of Music, Billboard, December 14, 1959.
26
Such performances by Eddie Kochak and other Arab Americans, including
postwar genre named after the 1957 Martin Denny album by the same name. Denny
described exotica as, “a combination of the South Pacific and the Orient…what a lot of
people imagined the islands to be like…it’s pure fantasy.”39 Known for its dual sonic and
visual primitivism, exotica had reached broad commercial appeal by the late-1950s.
Though often packaged and sold as exotica, “Shish Ke-bob Rock” and similar songs help
define a category I term “ethnic exotica,” to be distinguished from the “lounge” exotica
made famous by Martin Denny and Les Baxter. With titles such as Forbidden Island,
Primitiva, and Hypnotique, lounge exotica evoked an imagined Orient both through the
music itself and the accompanying album covers. By presenting music “inspired” by
foreign locations that actually sounded like orchestral jazz, lounge exotica pushed aside
and effectively silenced sounds associated with the cultures it was representing.
Alternatively, Ethnic exotica extended into the live performance realm with the
proliferation of Middle East-themed nightclubs across the East Coast during the 1950s
and 60s. In these spaces, performers were able to produce the campy aesthetic of the
and Muhammad Al Bakkar to investigate how sound and music helped negotiate what
“Arab-ness” meant in the postwar United States. Alongside other cultural products that
imagined the foreign in relation to the domestic, exotica is a rich site for the excavation
of ideas about race and gender in postwar America. As Stuart Hall famously argued,
39
Philip Hayward, Widening the Horizon: Exoticism in Post-War Popular Music,
Bloomington, IN: University of Indiana Press, 1999, p. 75
27
popular culture often works as a staging ground for larger social power struggles. Music
in particular is a site where subjecthood and fantasy coalesce, and are negotiated through
embodied listening.40 I suggest that the ethnic exaggeration of Kochak and Al Bakkars’
performances interrupts sonic and visual tropes of exotic primitivism. Additionally, these
two artists inhabited an aesthetic I call mock-orientalist camp, a performance practice that
illusory construct.
No longer background “mood” music for the cocktail parties of Middle Class
white Americans, ethnic exotica demands listeners’ attention and challenges them to re-
order to build a new diasporic formulation, one that made Arab American identity audible
and legible in new ways. In his discussion of the 1957 Broadway musical Jamaica, Vogel
contends that what made the play important was its lack of interest in developing an
that shaped relations between the multiplicity of black ethnicities within the United States
and beyond its shores.”41 Rather than faithfully adhering to its subject matter, Jamaica
“staged an errant Jamaica: one wayward and in error, but also one that wanders, in the
sense that Édouard Glissant proposes, unmoored from its point of origin.” Similarly,
ethnic exotica looked to orientalist tropes as a means of both citing and decentering
marginalizing discourse.
40
Stuart Hall, “Notes on Deconstructing the Popular,” in People’s History and Socialist
Theory, London: Routledge, 1981.
41
Shane Vogel, “Jamaica On Broadway: The Caribbean and Mock Transnational
Performance,” Theatre Journal, Vol 62 (1): March 2010, p. 7
28
The highly conspicuous visual fixation with exotic female sexuality on lounge
exotica album covers was a major part of their appeal, and these images provided a visual
accompaniment to the sonic fantasy. In this way, exotica demonstrates that sound cannot
Instead, the sonic and visual can work together in important ways.42 The visual
component of exotica is linked to the rise of magazines like Playboy and the consumer
category of the “bachelor” in the 1950s. Furthermore, ownership of colorful and kitschy
exotica albums became a marker of “taste” for middlebrow audiences and the soundtrack
many subgenres of lounge exotica, inspired by various exotic locales and endeavoring to
take listeners on a fantastical sonic journey via the hi-fi stereo. Albums with titles like
“Polynesian Fantasy,” “Forbidden Island,” “Ritual of the Savage,” and “10 Nights in a
While visual interest in female sexuality saturates both Arab ethnic exotica covers
and live performance spaces with the omnipresent figure of the female belly dancer, the
dancer’s showy burlesque performs a critique of the eroticized female “native” that
circulated in the realm of lounge exotica. The campy costumes shed light on the
construction of the dancer as a figure to be looked at and consumed for visual and sexual
pleasure, uncovering the underlying artifice of orientalism. As Susan Sontag writes about
camp, “…the camp sensibility is one that is alive to a double sense in which some things
can be taken. But this is not the familiar split-level construction of a literal meaning, on
one hand, and a symbolic meaning, on the other. It is the difference, rather, between the
42
See Josh Kun, “Basquat’s Ear, Rahsaan’s Eye” in Audiotopa: Music, Race and
America, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2005.
29
thing as meaning something, anything, and the thing as pure artifice.”43 Mock-
orientalism, therefore, makes evident the effort and performance involved with all
additions such as birdcalls to help complete the exotic soundscape. A highly cinematic
genre, exotica encouraged listeners to develop a visual narrative to accompany the sounds
they heard. By presenting music “inspired” by foreign locations that actually sounded
like innocuous symphonic jazz, lounge exotica pushed aside and effectively silenced
sounds associated with the “Third World.” Les Baxter’s track “A Night With Cleopatra,”
for example, encapsulates the instrumental jazz characteristic of the genre. From the 1962
album The Primitive and the Passionate, the piece works as a tone poem split into several
sections. The first lingers on a slow, wordless vocal melody in a minor key with bells and
occasional tambourine beats. It then moves into a faster dance segment led by the oboe
and xylophone evoking a lively village scene, and it ends with a slow and dramatic return
to the original melody. Not only does the album cover feature a beautiful dark-haired
woman, but the title “A Night With Cleopatra” itself is an invitation to hear the piece as
orientalism, and for that reason, I suggest that ethnic exotica operates as a post-orientalist
cultural product. Eddie “the Sheik” Kochak and Muhammad Al Bakkar both achieved
relative success with their bilingual English and Arabic albums. These two artists
43
Susan Sontag, “Notes on Camp,” Partisan Review, Fall 1964.
30
participated in the exotica craze while also exceeding and unsettling it by bringing Arab
sounds to bear on its formation. With a campy mock-orientalist aesthetic, these two mid-
century performers introduced Arab American identity into the American ethnic canon.
The sounds they produced helped bring the imaginary transnational space of the Middle
East into dance clubs and the homes of Americans by way of living room hi-fi players. In
new geography that both recognizes and disrupts tired orientalist binaries.
the 1950s, which became widespread and emerged out of a fantasy of a South Pacific
playground for Westerners. Likely generated in part by nostalgia from World War II
veterans who had served in the Pacific, the Tiki craze was responsible for the rapid
growth of tourism in this area. Tiki culture was built on an imagined sexualized vision of
Polynesia in which the sexual mores of the 1950s did not apply. Adinolfi contends that
Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa became popular during the late-1950s because
audiences were fascinated by the idea that monogamy was not a cultural norm in Samoan
society, and many assumed that this was the case across the board in non-Western
cultures.44
music, and literature. According to Christina Klein, James Michener’s 1959 novel Hawaii
was a “middlebrow” cultural product that captivated Middle Class audiences in the
postwar era, and the Tiki craze and exotica albums were both part of this matrix. Klein
44
Francesco Adinolfi, Mondo Exotica: Sounds, Visions, Obsessions of the Cocktail
Generation, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2008.
31
argues that in the context of the Cold War, a wide range of cultural texts including the
musicals South Pacific (1949), The King and I (1951), and Flower Drum Song (1958)
on mutual exchange.45 Similarly, exotica music contributed to an American sense that the
foreign could be appreciated and also consumed through sound. Middle class musical
consumption during this period was, like cultural consumption in general, often tied both
One of the appealing features of exotica was its ability to facilitate armchair travel
through sound: “hi-fi promised the cinematic authenticity of being there, in imaginary
and acoustic space. The exotica composers shared an obsession with space.”46 This
fixation on travel was purely hypothetical, as Les Baxter, for example, hadn’t traveled
much outside the U.S. And as Toop points out, the technology allowed for a unique
combination of refuge and expansion. Listeners could enter a surreal soundscape without
having to experience the risks of actual travel. Similarly, exotica provided a refuge from
Cold War fears of nuclear annihilation. As Tim Taylor has argued, a sense of
ambivalence about technology comes across in the music itself, especially in exotica
focused on space travel. Ambivalence about the future and technology’s role in it likely
added to the appeal of exotica as a whole, providing an escape from present concerns.
century domestic sphere, global goods and fashion became widely appealing as symbols
45
Christina Klein, Cold War Orientalism, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press,
2003, p. 13.
46
David Toop, Exotica: Fabricated Soundscapes in a Real World, London, UK:
Serpent’s Tail, 1999, p. 43.
32
of cosmopolitanism, especially for women. Buying and consuming foreign decorative
items, clothes, and food reminded consumers of their own whiteness and superiority.
American women could display their privileged positions in the global scheme of
things.”47 Eating global foods and enjoying other items served to reinforce difference
rather than to erase it, proving consumers’ Americanness through an ability to enjoy and
through an ability to cook a foreign cuisine. As with to the tradition of the World’s Fair,
the consumption of global goods in the 19th century was an ultimately imperial project
Exotica albums were known in part for the sexualized images of women that
appeared on album covers, reminiscent of so-called “cheesecake” covers of the same era.
In lounge exotica, these women often appeared in submissive poses, reifying the imperial
gaze.48 For example, the cover of the 1960 lounge exotica album East of Suez shows a
dark-haired woman with a scarf covering her face from the eyes down. Her hair is
uncovered, and she wears a jeweled tiara on her forehead. The most prominent feature are
her dark-lined “cat eyes” that look off to the side, avoiding the viewer’s direct gaze.
Beyond presenting her as a passive subject, this image evokes the Muslim practice of
veiling, inviting the viewer to imagine what the woman looks like under the scarf.
47
Kristen Hoganson, Consumers’ Imperium: The Global Production of American
Domesticity, 1865-1920, Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 2007, p.
149.
48
See Anne McClintock, Imperial Leather: Race, Gender, and Sexuality in the Colonial
Contest, New York: Routledge, 1995.
33
Gender formations in the 1950s and visual pleasure are important elements of the
exotica genre, and were linked to wider social trends. Formulations of “the good life,”
though largely associated with suburban homeownership and domestic bliss, were also
associated with the glamorous persona of the urban bachelor.49 Playboy, founded in 1953,
popularized the model of male consumption that had emerged in Esquire starting in the
1930s. While during the 19th century and beyond, the domestic realm was largely viewed
as a female space, this shifted with the introduction of the “bachelor pad.” In their focus
on bachelorhood, these magazines suggested an alternative to the ideal of the family man
describing the space of the bachelor pad as the extension of a man’s virility.50 Elizbeth
One of the items that became a fixture in the bachelor pad was the “hi-fi” stereo.
Through the development of hi-fi sound equipment, home audio also became an
49
As Lizbeth Cohen discussed extensively in A Consumers’ Republic, the ideal of “the
good life” became a key aspect of American culture following World War II. The 1950s
and early 1960s were marked by significant economic and demographic changes.
Suburbanization was a key shift during the postwar era, leading to the rapid growth of
residential areas outside of metropolitan centers, precipitated in part by the expansion of
the middle class, along with the rise of mass consumption. Citizens were exposed to a
range of goods and expected to purchase on a much larger scale than before. And
whereas the 1940s consumer was expected to tailer their purchases to the overall needs of
a country at war, the postwar consumer bought goods mostly out of a personal desire to
own them, and the act of buying itself was viewed as a civic duty.
50
In addition to pornographic content, the magazine encouraged the acquisition of a wide
range of items associated with the bachelor lifestyle, including gourmet food, sports cars,
well-stocked liquor cabinets, high-end stereo equipment, and fashionable clothing.
51
Elizabeth Fraterrigo, “The Answer to Suburbia: Playboy’s Urban Lifestyle,” Journal of
Urban History, April 2008, p. 758
34
important feature of the middle class home. Hi-fi technology grew in conjunction with
the invention of the LP or “long playing record” by Columbia Records in the late-1940s
and referred to the sound quality, or the ability of both recordings and equipment to
marketed to men, and by the mid-1950s the term was synonymous with home audio
systems in general. In the recording industry, advertisers and producers described LPs as
high fidelity, meaning that they would allow the listener an “immersion” experience that
closely mimicked live performance. Keir Keightley suggests that culturally, the hi-fi
advancement with masculinity and encouraged men to see audio equipment as one way
The new bachelor archetype fostered the belief that musical taste was important
introduction by white jazz pianist Cy Coleman. As Hefner wrote in the first issue of
Playboy, “We enjoy mixing up cocktails and an hors d’oeuvre or two, putting a little
mood music on the phonograph and inviting in a female acquaintance for a quiet
discussion on Picasso, Nietzsche, jazz, sex…If we are able to give the American male a
few extra laughs and a little diversion from the anxieties of the Atomic Age, we’ll feel
we’ve justified our existence.”53 The ideal bachelor was expected to own a collection of
jazz and easy listening records, which contributed to his persona. According to this new
52
Keir Keightley, “‘Turn it Down!’ she Shrieked: Gender, Domestic Space, and High
Fidelity, 1948-59,” Popular Music, Vol 1 No 2 (May 1996): 149-177.
53
Hugh Hefner, “Editorial: Volume 1, No 1” Playboy, December 1953:151-152.
35
imagined ideal, the bachelor was free from familial responsibility and could spend his
time outside of work enjoying a range of sensory pleasures such as hosting cocktail
parties and flirting with available women. Given the emphasis on consumption and a new
between the rise of bachelor culture and the popularity of exotica albums in the 1950s
heterosexual men. In addition to the sex appeal of the cover images, the albums served as
a marker of worldly knowledge. For bachelors, exotica of all types could provide
background music for gatherings that would signal both sexual sophistication and
cosmopolitan knowledge. And for American women who may have stumbled onto them,
belly dance could potentially have offered a new means of envisioning femininity vis-a-
vis an exotic other. The visual accentuation of exotic female sexuality made exotica
music highly marketable in the postwar era, and it was through the marketable vehicle of
eroticized images that exotica created a venue for ethnic exotica performers to introduce
to distinguish myth from reality in Eddie “the Sheik” Kochak’s life story. Ultimately, the
accounts themselves are more instructive than their accuracy, and I find the multiple
his World War II Army Sergeant called him “the Sheik” when he couldn’t pronounce his
birth name, Kochakji. The second version highlights Kochak’s brush with fame when he
36
performed in the musical Zorba the Greek with Anthony Quinn in the early 1980s. In this
narrative, which he told me in an interview, Quinn called him Eddie “the Sheik” because
it rhymed with Zorba the Greek. The Army Sergeant version points to Kochak’s ethnic
status in the 1940s, when his name, “Kochakji” was a marker of difference and a
potential liability for a performer. It also stresses the prevalence of the “Sheik” figure as
an ongoing trope in American popular culture. Anthony Quinn’s celebrity status lends
legitimacy to the second version of the story, but more broadly, it calls for a recognition
of the “wider Mediterranean” performance culture in New York City that Kochak
participated in. I begin here with Kochak’s life story as an entry point for the examination
recordings, to argue that Kochak was central to the development of the Arab American
Kochak was born Eddie Soubhi Ibn Farjallah Kochakji in Brooklyn in 1922.
Kochak’s parents emigrated from Aleppo around the turn of the century. In our interview
Kochak described banging on pots and pans as a child until his parents realized that he
might want to be a percussionist and gave him a doumbek. His father owned a
coffeehouse on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, where Arab musicians would gather to sing
and play, and this setting provided a rich environment for his musical development.
Kochak’s mother and sister often danced, providing him with early lessons in
accompanying live performers. He learned Arabic at home, but never traveled to his
Brooklyn, often playing at restaurants and parties known as haflat. As a first generation
Arab American, Eddie Kochak served in the World War II army special forces between
37
1942 and 1946. During this time he played for troops abroad and traveled to Egypt,
throughout the 1940s and 50s: “I entertained, sang, played drums, danced, emceed, did
comedy, all of that. I always had my own American band, and we entertained at many
parties where people wanted a combination of Arabic and American, Greek and
American or Turkish and American music.”54 From the beginning, Kochak saw that he
could reach immigrant audiences and also provide what he viewed as an American twist
with his own band. He sought to bring Arabic music into the wider public consciousness
via the belly dance craze that came into public view through Muhammad Al Bakkar’s
music in the late-1950s, as well as lounge exotica albums such as Sonny Lester’s “Middle
East After Hours” and “Belly Dancer” by The Sheik’s Men. With a portmanteau
combining “America” and “Arabic” to signify the merging of the two cultures, Kochak
wane alongside the rise of the multi-ethnic nightclub. While Nightclubs operated partly
as an extension of haflat, where Arab communities would come together to eat, dance,
and listen to music, according to Anne Rasmussen, these nightclubs became “the vehicle
through which Americans and other ethnic groups came to know about Arab culture,
including food, music, and a romanticized version of history. ”55 The first, Club Zahra,
54
Elizabeth Artemis Mourat and Christy Guenther, “Eddie Kochak, the Sheik, the Man,”
Gilded Serpent (2001), accessed Jan 15, 2016,
http://www.gildedserpent.com/art43/artieddiek.htm.
55
Anne Rasmussen, “’An Evening in the Orient’: The Middle Eastern Nightclub in
America,” Asian Music, Vol 23 (2): Spring-Summer 1992, p. 67-68.
38
opened in Boston in 1952. The Lebanese American owners opened a second venue, Club
Morocco, shortly thereafter. Rasmussen writes, “The house band included musicians of
Lebanese, Turkish, Armenian, and Greek heritage; sometimes musicians visiting from
polyethnic America.”56
By the 1960s and 1970s, the nightclub was the primary venue for Arab music.
The clientele was partially made up of Arab immigrants as well as “Americans who had
just discovered the charms of Arabic music and dance.”57 According to dance instructor
Ibrahim Farrah, “It was not unusual to go to 8th avenue and see women going into the
nightclubs with big [fur] coats. They find it an exotic evening.”58 Thus, the appeal of
nightclubs was partly in their self-conscious display of orientalism, which was appealing
caricatured version of themselves: “In their effort to explain the East to the West, the
musicans, dancers, and owners of the nightclub adapted and capitalized upon a set of
symbols they had come to know in the Western world.”60 Moreover, the nightclub’s
Muhammad al-Bakkar and his musical cohorts exerted far reaching influence on
both musical and social levels. Not only did these men create a unique, fresh
56
Rasmussen, Individuality and Social Change in the Music of Arab-Americans, PhD
Dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles, 1991, p. 136.
57
Rasmussen, Individuality and Social Change, p. 138.
58
Ibid, p. 139
59
There are also comparisons to be made in terms of the appeal of Middle Eastern
nightclubs and the phenomenon of “slumming” in African American clubs discussed by
Chad Heap in Slumming: Sexual and Racial Encounters in American Nightlife, 1885-
1940, Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2010.
60
Rasmussen, “A Night in the Orient,” p. 81.
39
sound, they legitimized dance for audience members and professionalized dance
for the multitude of belly dancers who saturated the cities. They also generated a
flurry of recording activity and nourished the highly visible and lucrative
nightclub scene which redefined musical professionalism in Arab-American
musical life.61
Thus, while Middle Eastern nightclubs in American urban centers promoted and relied on
orientalist symbols to attract a mainstream audience, they also created a new musical
fusion style, bringing together musicians of Greek, Armenian, Turkish, and Arab
these new nightclubs drew white Americans as well. In many ways, the live performance
space of the Middle Eastern nightclub was inextricably linked to the ethnic exotica
recording genre. During this era, nightclubs became Arab American performance meccas
that facilitated significant interethnic mingling among both performers and audience.
These nightclubs, therefore, were also instrumental in developing the mock orientalism
Before World War II, Arabs arriving in the United States were generally
Christians originating from the region then under Ottoman rule known as Greater Syria,
and many were unskilled laborers seeking greater economic opportunity.62 After 1899,
classification tended to contrast with the way most would have identified themselves,
whether by regional, religious, or familial origin.63 Numerous scholars have discussed the
degree to which Arab Americans have been considered “white” in the American system
61
Rasmussen, Individuality and Social Change, p. 156-157.
62
Michael Suleiman, Arabs in America: Building a New Future, Philadelphia: Temple
University Press, 1999, p. 4.
63
Nadine Naber, Arab America: Gender, Cultural Politics, and Activism, New York:
NYU Press, 2012, p. 29.
40
of racial classification. In the first decades of the 20th century, questions arose in several
Asiatic. These cases highlighted anxieties about foreign racial threats to the American
nation, and while the rulings sometimes placed Syrians in the white category, they
continually raised the concern of racial otherness. Syrians were consistently put in the
position of having to argue for their own status as white, and hence their right to belong
to the nation. Part of this condition of whiteness was dependent on a link between
European, Western, and Christian identity, which allowed for a distancing from what
assimilation, as has been discussed with other immigrant groups during this period, it is
more worthwhile to think about Syrians in the early 20th-century as occupying a liminal
space. This unresolved or in-between status allowed for increased scrutiny in later
periods, as Sarah Gualtieri points out: “Syrian encounters with race in the early part of
the twentieth century formed the foundation upon which later Arab immigrants were
marked as different and potentially threatening to the body politic.”64 In the mid-1940s,
the Institute of Arab Affairs was founded in New York City by a group of Arabic-
speaking delegates with the intention of spreading information about Palestine. Though
the institute itself was not long-lived, its members began to rethink immigration in terms
of pan-ethnicity and the terminology began to shift from “Syrian” to “Arab American.”65
64
Sarah Gualtieri, Between Arab and White: Race and Ethnicity in the Early Syrian
American Diaspora, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009, p. 157.
65
Ibid p. 166
41
The second wave of immigration from the Middle East after World War II was
more diverse than the previous group and also often came as a result of political struggles
in specific countries. For example, the creation of the Israeli state and the Arab-Israeli
immigrated to the U.S. Whereas groups who arrived in the early-20th century most were
from “Greater Syria,” the same geographic area that now makes up Syria and Lebanon,
after World War II Arabs arrived from the Gulf and North Africa, and approximately half
were Muslim.66 Overall, this meant that the Arab population in the U.S. became much
more diverse, and this helped consolidate a pan-ethnic identity based both on common
language and Arab nationalism, which became increasingly prevalent in the postwar
period.
related to the view of the Middle East more broadly. Nadine Naber contends that in the
period from the 1950s to the 1990s, Arabs went from being considered a model minority
the U.S. and the Middle East. Drawing on the work of several scholars, she claims, “Anti-
Arab racism after World War II emerged in an interplay of U.S. military, political, and
economic expansion in the Middle East, anti-Arab media representations, and the
American in the United States.”67 The 1950s and 60s were thus a point of transition
between the earlier period where Arabs occupied an indefinite racial position, to a time of
heightened racialization and scrutiny. The appearance of ethnic exotica at this juncture
66
Naber, Arab America, p. 33
67
Ibid, p. 31
42
reflects the consolidation of Arab American identity after World War II as well as its
1950s was at least marginally open to immigrant and “ethnic” participants. For example,
the I Love Lucy show’s Desi Arnaz was a Cuban immigrant who played a fictional
version of himself on TV. As Ricky Ricardo, he led a Latin band and spoke with an
accent. Prior to I Love Lucy, Arnaz appeared in several Hollywood films and was
bandleader for the Desi Arnaz Orchestra. The I Love Lucy show first aired in 1951 and its
widespread popularity suggests that audiences were at least somewhat open to “ethnic”
referenced explicitly. The show’s original pilot, which never aired, included a
performance by Ricky Ricardo’s band where he described a song as originating from the
streets of Havana. The pilot that did air on national TV featured a more conventional
domestic plot. Ricardo/Arnaz played his guitar briefly, but did not mention his national or
ethnic origins. Ricky Ricardo’s character served as a foil for Lucy’s antics, and audiences
appreciated his offbeat charm and desire to provide stability for his family.
At the same time, however, as the I Love Lucy example demonstrates, the ethnic
immigrants that became mainstream performers were the ones largely considered safe
and inoffensive. Eddie “the Sheik” Kochak’s musical work and persona offers a
worthwhile parallel to postwar Jewish singer and comedian Mickey Katz, who pushed the
limits of “acceptable” performance. As Josh Kun explains, Katz was a kind of uber-
ethnic performer, constantly reworking and parodying popular songs to make them more
43
Jewish. Kun writes, “the majority of inquiries into Jewish difference have not paid
attention to what Katz forces us to confront: the aurality of Jewish difference, the music
of Jewish alterity.”68 During the mid-20th century, many Jews were going through a
process of whitening through assimilation by changing their last names and moving to
identities. Arabs during the 1950s and 60s had the same opportunity as Jews to move
foreign-ness and the exotic. And here, Eddie Kochak puts a spotlight on Arab-ness by
Many of Kochak’s first recordings from the late-1950s were singles inspired by
various ethnic crazes. For example, the b-side to his 1957 single “Shish Ka-bob Rock”
was the calypso tune “No, No You’re Not For Me.” The song describes a regrettable love
affair with a woman who proves to be an unsuitable wife because she has to rely on a
recipe book in the kitchen: “She tried to serve me corn on the cob/ When she knows I like
my shish kebab/ No no no you’re not for me/ Go away and let me be/.” The calypso beat
immediately identifies the genre, and Kochak begins the first verse in an ambiguous
accent, “I met her back in calypso land/ we were in love so a wedding was planned….”
While the song’s humor relies on a conservative 1950s gender politics to make its point.
Kochak’s accent along with a brief improvisatory section at the end of the song put a
Similarly, Kochak released “Mambo Araby,” a classic mambo tune sung in with a
bilingual Arabic/English twist with a b-side, “Mafee Gherak (My Only Love),” in the
68
Josh Kun, Audiotopia, p. 50.
44
late-1950s. Mambo Araby is a classic mambo tune with a bilingual Arabic/English twist.
Kochak sings about the beauty of Damascus, “the land of linen and beautiful lace/ lots of
ajwa (dates), lots of ful (fava beans)/ wait until you taste the laham ajeen.”69 Following
the song’s catchy chorus of “mambo Araby,” Kochak launches into a semi-tonal vocal
improvisation accompanied by the flute and Latin percussion. The album’s b-side,
crooner style. Kochak is backed by a big band complete with horns and rhythm section,
and while the chorus is in Arabic, he translates the verses: “darling you’re my only love/
in the desert, when serenading/ you must whisper to your lady.” This track provides a
contrast with the others in that it doesn’t rely on ethnic humor. Instead, Kochak channels
a smooth Frank Sinatra-style vocal sound and displays considerable skill. Along with the
other tracks from Kochak’s early albums, “Mambo Araby,” and “Mafee Gherak”
Jewish violinist and concertmaster who immigrated to the U.S. in the late-1940s. One of
their early albums together from 1962 was Ameraba: Music with the New Amer-Abic
Sound. The first track on the album is the Israeli folk song “Hava Nagila,” which reached
widespread popularity in the 1950s and was covered by diverse artists such as Afro-
Cuban mambo performer Machito, surf guitarist Dick Dale, and Harry Belafonte. Its
Jew, Obadia himself straddled these two categories of identity and it was likely he who
69
Ajwa are dates, ful are fava beans, and laham ajeen is a Levantine lamb dish.
45
chose to include this “Araby” version of the song on the album. The track starts with a
doumbek percussion introduction along with cymbals, and the melody is carried by violin
and ‘oud playing together. Both lead instruments incorporate ornamentation in traditional
Arabic style, and the violin often plays on two strings at once for added effect. Near the
end of the song, there is a virtuosic percussion interlude that demonstrates Kochak’s
drumming prowess. By including “Hava Nagila” on their album, Kochak and Obadia
As with many lounge exotica albums, many of the tracks on Ameraba incorporate
Jordan,” and “Dance of Aleppo.” The song titles introduce an imaginary tour of these
locations, and the music, which is mostly instrumental improvisation, is only loosely
related to the places of reference. With their training in Arabic music, however, Kochak
and Obadia move beyond the symphonic jazz of Les Baxter and Martin Denny. The most
obvious thread running through all of the songs, however, is jazz and this is especially
true of the track “Jazz in Port Said.” The title points to Port Said’s continuing
significance in the American imagination. The Suez Crisis of the late-1950s made it
apparent that Egypt and the Middle East were strategically important to the Cold War,
and signaled increased U.S. involvement in the region. The track “Jazz in Port Said” is
unconventional and stands out among the songs on Ameraba, as it lacks a unifying
melody and instead works by layering disparate sounds. Opening with a brief jazz
percussion intro, the track then introduces double bass, ‘oud, saxophone, and violin lines.
The way the ‘oud is plucked sounds similar to a double bass and the violin melody
mimics the mizmar, which is a double reed instrument with a distinctive sharp tone
46
associated with Said’i culture. There are several brief jazz percussion interludes as well
as saxophone and flute solos that give it a jazzy feeling, and the alternating solos are in
Kochak and Obadia also recorded the song “Miserlou” for this album, a melody
with a long and complex history worth briefly discussing here. Within the span of fifty
American ethnic identity, to a surf guitar riff on a Middle Eastern theme that became the
aural hook for the 1994 film Pulp Fiction. The multiple iterations of the song illustrate
the fact that sonic associations are malleable and the same melody can transform in
meaning depending on the audience and the context. While questions remain about the
precise origins of the melody, most sources concur that the song is an Eastern
Mediterranean folk tune. “Misirlou,” which means “Egyptian woman” in Turkish and
Greek, was recorded in 1919 by Egyptian singer Sayed Darwish with the Arabic title
“Bint Misr,” leading some to speculate that “Misirlou” was actually a cover of Darwish’s
song.70 If this were the case, the melody traveled from Egypt to the wider Mediterranean.
Whatever its precise origins, “Misirlou” likely spread through the Turkish and
Arabic speaking Ottoman Empire and remained popular in Eastern Mediterranean ethnic
American national anthem” and was played during the Closing Ceremonies of the Athens
Olympics in 2004.71 The first known recording of the song in the U.S. was by a Greek
artist named Michalis Patrinos circa 1930, and another Greek American artist, Nicholas
70
Arnold Rypens, “Miserlou,” The Originals Update and Info Site, accessed Dec 10,
2015, http://www.originals.be/en/originals.php?id=8080.
71
Rasmussen, Individuality and Social Change, p. 269.
47
Roubanis, copyrighted it as his own in 1941. There are several Yiddish versions of the
song as well, signaling its appeal in Jewish Ottoman communities. Arab American
musician Anton Abdel Ahad recorded a “pan-American” version with a Latin bolero
rhythm and Arabic lyrics in the 1950s, which gained popularity among Arab Americans.
Incidentally, the melody reached a wider audience in the 1960s when surf
guitarist Dick Dale rearranged it as a solo rock instrumental piece in 1962, followed by a
Beach Boys recording on their album “Surfin’ USA” in 1963. Dick Dale was one of the
originators of the surf rock sound, a quintessentially Southern California genre that
emerged in the early-1960s. The genre is typified by rapid electric guitar picking and a
“wave-like” sound created through spring reverb and the vibrato arm, which bends the
notes downward. While Dale grew up in Quincy MA, he was born Richard Mansour, and
his father’s family was from Beirut.72 As a guitarist, Dale drew on his knowledge of
Arabic music that he learned from spending time with his uncles, who played the ‘oud at
family gatherings. He claimed that he arranged “Misirlou” after a young fan requested
that he play an entire song on one string, and he realized that he could speed up the tempo
by playing the percussion part and the melody at the same time. The resulting track is a
electric guitar jam. The “sonic arabness” of the hijaz kar scale takes on a breathless
energy with fast guitar riffs over a driving rhythm. With his rock-inflected interpretation,
Dale updated the ethnic folk song to appeal to a young 1960s audience. The Beach Boys’
recording imitates Dale’s, at an even faster speed and with their characteristic surf rock
72
Dale asserted in several interviews that he was born in Lebanon, likely to increase his
reputation as an expert in Middle Eastern music, but according to Colin Larkin in The
Encyclopedia of Popular Music, he was in fact born in Quincy, Massachusetts.
48
twang. With the Beach Boys’ performance, the song immediately increased in visibility
and solidified the association between the Arab/Mediterranean folk melody and the
in 1964, further expanded on the “amerabic” ethnic style with an album cover and song
titles designed to appeal to the standard exotica consumer. One of the Eddie Kochak’s
only album to be released on a major label, Ya Habibi was subtitled “Exciting new
sounds of the Middle East” and included tracks such as “Village Feast,” “Mediterranean
Fantasy,” “Camel Hop,” and “Red Sea Blues.” The cover image features a brightly
adorned belly dancer wearing finger cymbals in mid-gyration. Behind her, Kochak and
Obadia wear matching tuxedos and red fez hats. They are in the midst of playing their
The obvious enactment of the male gaze in the image works to decenter the gaze
itself. As an instance of mock orientalism, the Ya Habibi cover foregrounds the act of
looking at the dancer, thus mocking the men doing the gazing. The music on the album
saxophone solos on “Red Sea Blues” and “Village Feast.” Another track, “Dance of the
Happy Bride,” begins and ends with cries of zaghareet, and the performers call out in
celebration throughout the track as the title suggests.74 Their cries can be heard as both
73
Quentin Tarantino placed a clip of Dick Dale’s 1963 recording of “Misirlou” at the
beginning of his 1994 hit film Pulp Fiction. According to Tarantino, the clip “throws
down a gauntlet that the movie now has to live up to.” While the use of the song signals
the film’s nostalgia and setting in Southern California, it also illustrates an example
where the “sonic Arabness” is obscured by other associations.
74
Ululation, known in Arabic as zaghareet, is created by touching the tongue either to the
sides of the mouth or the teeth in rapid succession, and it is characterized by a piercing
49
bringing discernibly “ethnic” elements of Arab culture into the sonic landscape while also
subtly mocking the campy primitivism of the song title itself, “Dance of the Happy
orientalist performance was conspicuous in its visual and sonic imagery. In recorded
form, the ethnic exotica genre became linked to an audiophile fixation with sonic fidelity,
sound quality enacted in the upper vocal register. Zaghareet’s high pitch, loud volume,
vibrato, and tongue oscillation create a prominent, distinctive sound. Moreover, in
American popular film and television, zaghareet immediately cues an Orientalized Arab
exotic.
50
Mohammed Al Bakkar: Achieving Sonic Fidelity
In 1954, the popular but short-lived musical Fanny began its two-year run on
Broadway. Based on a play by Marcel Pagnol and set in the French city of Marseille, the
musical featured an Oriental bazaar scene with a performance by Turkish actress and
belly dancer Nejla Ates. Her gyrations caused a commotion, and according to co-writer
S.N. Behrman, mounted policemen from Forty Fourth street would walk into the theater
every night to watch Ates perform and would then leave as soon as she was done.75 This
public spectacle revolving around Ates’ exotic sexuality calls to mind the 1893 World’s
Fair, where dancers from Algeria first performed the style to the mixed horror and
fascination of audiences present. Fanny emerged in the years just prior to an explosion of
ethnic exotica albums that featured Arab or Arab American performers alongside over-
the-top cover images complete with palm trees, camels, sultans, and harems similar to
Arab American performer of this period, arrived in the U.S. from Egypt in 1952 and
settled in Brooklyn, where he lived until his death in 1959. Al Bakkar performed for two
years in Fanny alongside Nejla Ates, playing a rug salesman in the Oriental bazaar
scene.76 Al Bakkar’s character performed the song “Shika, Shika,” a curious combination
of classic Broadway showtune-meets traditional Arabic song. The lyrics are in Arabic,
and except for some prominent finger cymbals, the orchestral backing and chorus sound
very similar to other Broadway song accompaniments from this era. This comes as no
75
S.N. Behrman, “My life with ‘Fanny’: Playwright’s adventure in the field of musical
comedy,” New York Times, Oct 30, 1955.
76
“Mohammed El Bakkar: Singer of Middle Eastern Songs is Dead at 46,” New York
Times, Sept 9, 1959.
51
surprise, since Fanny’s score was composed by Harold Rome and directed by Joshua
Al Bakkar first began recording in the U.S. under the Al-Chark label for Albert
Rashid in the period of 1953-1955. Al-Chark was an ethnic label focused on performers
from the Middle East and North Africa. Rashid himself owned an important music store
in Brooklyn that was known as a hub of Arab American culture. In 1957, Al Bakkar
became a hit when he began recording with the Audio Fidelity label owned by Jewish
American businessman Sidney Frey, releasing four albums before his death in 1959. As it
was not a specifically “ethnic” label, the audience was significantly more mainstream
than Al-Chark’s. Under Audio Fidelity, Al Bakkar’s albums were released among a wide
Audio Fidelity was part of a broader set of recording companies that were
dedicated to producing true-to-life albums in high fidelity, and it also was the first
company to feature recordings in stereo sound. Audio Fidelity made Al Bakkar’s albums
part of what the company’s tagline deemed “studies in high fidelity sound.” Middle
Eastern music would have served as a sonic testing ground for audiophiles who wanted to
hear music in the highest possible fidelity in the comfort of their home, or perhaps
bachelor pad. These listeners were looking for an affective and embodied listening
experience that would bring exotic fantasies to life. This approach was a combination of
becoming immersed in the sounds permitted listeners, coded white and male, to gain
mastery over their listening subjects. Albums that introduced a wide range of volumes
52
and pitches were deemed most intriguing for observation, and the diversity of instruments
To listen to this item you’d never know there was trouble in the Middle East. It’s
an Oriental jam session, typified by a strong beat and exotic instrumentation
(Finger cymbals, for example). The tweeter-woofer crowd will dig it the most for
its emphasis on wide-range values. But don’t overlook the possibility of a wider
audience. Disk has already shown signs of breaking big in certain markets and
deejays also seem to be getting the message.77
The author’s reference to the Suez crisis points to global events as part of the widespread
response to the album, and also that hi-fi enthusiasts, labeled the “tweeter-woofer crowd”
would appreciate the range of sounds exhibited. Listening to Middle Eastern music for
anthropological studies, and being immersed in these sounds also permitted listeners to
When Audio Fidelity created and sold a mass-produced stereo album in 1957, it
was considered more of a “hi-fi curiosity” than a commercially viable product since the
equipment that made it possible to listen to albums “in stereo” was not yet available on
the mass market.78 The first stereo album was labeled a “Compatible Stereophonic
Demonstration Record (for test and laboratory purposes)” and it featured a jazz band
known as the Dukes of Dixieland on side A, and “Railroad Sounds, Steam and Diesel” on
audience interested in having the most realistic possible listening experience in the
comfort of their own homes. As a Billboard review pronounced, “All the things listeners
77
“Spotlight on Sound: Port Said: Music of the Middle East,” El Bakkar and his Oriental
Ensemble, Audio Fidelity AFLP 1833, Billboard Magazine, Nov 4, 1957.
78
“Mass Produced Stereo Disk is Demonstrated,” Billboard Magazine, Dec 16, 1957.
53
have learned to expect from stereo are here: enhanced presence, heightened reality and, in
the case of the ‘Railroad Sounds,’ a definite sense of movement. The train moves from
left to right, etc….if customers had stereo cartridges, the disk would probably be in great
demand.’”79 Though it wasn’t until the 1960s that stereo technology became widely
available, the company re-released stereo versions of El Bakkar’s first two albums in
Comparing Al Bakkar’s early-1950s work for the Al-Chark label to his Audio
Fidelity recordings makes it clear that the Audio Fidelity producers maximized the
sounds they hoped would be most attractive to American audiences and marketable to a
performed a sonic mock orientalism. One of the recordings still available from Al
Bakkar’s Al-Chark sessions is the song “Banat Iskandaria,” which means “the women of
Alexandria,” and warns against the temptations of Alexandrian women. The first line
roughly translates as, “Oh women from Alexandria/ To fall in love with you is a sin.” In
the version released for Al-Chark, the song is slow and subdued, evoking a sense of
longing. The scale is harmonic minor and does not incorporate quartertones, so the
melody only occasionally sounds non-Western. The song opens with an accordion
passage and relies heavily on string accompaniment. There are accordion and ‘oud solos
in the middle of the song, which give it a somewhat improvised feel, despite its repetitive
melodic line.80
79
“Mass Produced Stereo Disk is Demonstrated,” Billboard Magazine, Dec 16, 1957.
80
The ‘oud is a fretless stringed instrument similar to a lute considered an ancestor to the
guitar.
54
Al Bakkar recorded the same song for the Audio Fidelity label on Port Said in
1957. In this version, the song is approximately three minutes shorter and uses string
accompaniment alone rather than accordion and ‘oud. The violin mirrors Al Bakkar’s
voice and adds ornamentation, which livens up the sound. In addition, the percussion is
much louder in the introduction and more central in the mix, grabbing the listener’s
attention. The effect is snappier and more buoyant. The change in instrumentation itself
is significant, making the sound both less and more “ethnic.” The ‘oud is a classical Arab
instrument that would have been generally unfamiliar to the American public. And while
the sound is similar to the acoustic guitar, it is not particularly loud or showy, which
Likewise, because of its even tone and association with a variety of non-Arab
ethnic folk musics, the accordion may not have been considered fashionable or vibrant
enough for Audio Fidelity. The violin is ultimately capable of more ornamentation and
has a greater range in terms of volume and timbre, and the violinist in this track
accentuates the virtuosity of the ornamental passages. Therefore, the sounds that are
emphasized in the Audio Fidelity track; percussion, violin, and voice, are not necessarily
the most traditional or classically Arab traditional instruments. These elements manage to
immediately capture the ear, however, and they suggest an emphasis on sonic qualities
audience. While this example shows that ethnic exotica may have Americanized these
sounds in nuanced ways, they still offered Arabic lyrics and performances by musicians
55
For many Arab American listeners, however, the sounds of Al Bakkar’s albums
provided a sense of shared heritage and nostalgia, as evidenced from internet comments
from his song clips. Since Al Bakkar had already become successful as a film star in
Egypt before immigrating to the U.S., he gained an Arab American following relatively
quickly. Numerous YouTube and iTunes commenters of Arab backgrounds claim music
“After a vacation to Cape Cod in the 1950s we returned home to NJ and found
that my grandfather had made my mother a Hi-Fi and cabinet and her and my
father's favorite music was playing...you guessed it, “Port Said” by Mohammed el
Bakkar. I was twelve years old and loved the music, which we listened to until
we almost wore out the record, which I still have, by the way. We loved it then,
we love it now.”81
As commenter “contessakitty” writes in the YouTube comments for the song “Port
Said,” My mother had this album when I was a kid and the album cover had belly
dancers...this is the first time I've heard this in forty years….” Another commenter then
responds to this, saying: “As "contessakitty" made reference below, my jiddo & sitto had
this album when I was a child.82 I have it on cassette tape but have not heard it in years. It
brings back great memories of my family and the pride of their heritage.”83 As these
comments indicate, Arab ethnic exotica played an important role in the formation of mid-
Mohammed Al Bakkar recorded another song, “Yalla Yalla, Hay,” which loosely
translates to “Come On, Let’s Go,” for the Al-Chark label in 1953 and again for the 1958
Audio Fidelity album Sultan of Bagdad. Unlike “Banat Iskandaria,” the melodic scale
81
Mohamed El-Bakkar, Port Said, Hollywood Music, 2008. iTunes comment by
“DiranTook,” https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/mohamed-el-bakkar/id292376819
82
Grandfather and grandmother in Arabic.
83
“Port Said – Mohamed El Bakker,” YouTube video posted by “carranca0009,” Oct 22,
2009, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7PLWVhJpL8.
56
incorporates numerous quartertones, a key feature of Arabic music. Existing between the
black and white keys on a classical piano, these sounds tend to be perceived as “out of
tune” by the Western ear, and quartertones are one aspect of the sound that quickly marks
the music as Arab.84“Yalla Yalla, Hay” employs a cheerful sounding maqam and the
tempo is significantly faster than “Banat Iskanderia,” giving it a celebratory sound. The
Al-Chark version lasts approximately six minutes and includes a two minute-long ‘oud
and vocal taqsim, or improvisation in the middle of the song. The taqsim allows the
singer and ‘oud player to improvise on the melody and to create a new sonic environment
within the structure of the song. The taqsim is associated with the Arab tradition of tarab,
instrumental improvisations.85 One of the important elements of tarab is that it can only
be achieved through a specific type of active listening employed by those educated in the
practice. In order to achieve the ecstatic state, one must know how to appreciate the
subtleties of the maqam. The taqsim isn’t included in the Audio Fidelity version,
suggesting that the album’s producers believed mainstream Americans wouldn’t know
how to appreciate it. Without this section, the song is also shorter and more consistent in
In both versions, “Yalla Yalla, Hay” begins with a percussion interlude and then a
melodic introduction from the strings. In the Audio Fidelity version, however, finger
cymbals, claps, and female vocal zaghareet are added to this first part of the song. These
elements, along with jovial calls from Al Bakkar at the end of particular phrases, conjure
84
See A.J. Racy, Making Music in the Arab World: The Culture and Artistry of Tarab.
Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2003.
85
In the classical Arabic system, there are a variety of scales, or maqam, that dictate the
melodic tuning of a particular piece.
57
up a celebratory scene of dancing and rejoicing. The zaghareet, cymbals, and clapping
also work as sonic signals of the exotic. The high-pitched sharpness of the sound itself is
startling, and it is layered on top of the quarter notes of the maqam along with clapping
and frequent vocal calls. All of these features combine to produce a complete
soundscape, shrinking the distance between performer and audience. Listeners could
imagine themselves participating in the festive scene comprised of musicians playing for
Al Bakkar, the singer himself leading the celebration, and ululating and dancing women.
By inviting the listener to interact with the recording, the album facilitates a performative
mock orientalism that breaks down the “us” and “them” binary.
Sidney Frey’s decision to record Mohammed Al Bakkar likely came out of his
hope that a Middle East-themed album would sell copies based on sonic difference as
well as visual exotica. On the cover of Port Said is a campy photograph of dancer Nejla
Ates, posing coyly with one arm above her head and a pink veil flowing behind her (see
image). Ates wears a long skirt that is split open to reveal her thigh, and silver pasties,
which were often worn in American burlesque performance in the early-20th century to
dodge indecent exposure laws.86 In the background, there are cushions on the carpet and a
hookah sitting on a table, made to resemble a harem. While in some ways blatantly
with a campy semi-pornographic “American harem fantasy” in the form of a belly dancer
dressed in a burlesque costume, and also by self-consciously drawing attention to the uni-
86
Allen, Robert Clyde. Horrible Prettiness: Burlesque and American Culture, Chapel
Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1991.
58
Figure 3: Nejla Ates on the cover of Port Said
By the time Port Said was released in 1957, Nejla Ates was famous for her
performances in the Broadway musical Fanny in the mid-1950s, which was also where
she first met Mohammed Al Bakkar. As a Los Angeles Times critic explained the
decision to include Ates in Fanny: “...director Josh Logan, author Sam Behrman and
composer Harold Rome were on their way to a rehearsal...when Logan suddenly opined,
“There’s a spot in Act One that’s made to order for a good, red-hot, talk-provoking belly
dancer.”87 Her performances were indeed notable, and as one reviewer commented,
“Nejla Ates’ belly dance produces more heat in five minutes than an atomic pile in an
87
Bennett Cerf, “Turkish Delight,” Los Angeles Times, March 13, 1955.
59
hour, and must be hoarded against a possible fuel shortage next winter.”88 According to
co-writer S.N. Behrman, the mounted policemen from Forty Fourth Street would walk in
every night to watch Ates perform and would then leave as soon as she was done.89
The popularity of Ates’ dancing body indicates the campy appeal of the American
burlesque-belly-dancer, but it is impossible to detach these from the sounds that would
have accompanied them. A Billboard review of Al Bakkar’s 1958 album The Magic
Carpet declared, “The authentic flavor of the music of the Middle East is in these
this is not enough, let it be stated that the cover alone can sell the package, for it’s
colorful, diverting and sexy in the Oriental style that Americans love.”90 So while cover
photos like the one for Port Said were significant for their obsession with exotic
sexuality, I want to suggest that although cover images may have initially attracted
After the success of Port Said, Audio Fidelity released a second album featuring
El Bakkar, Sultan of Bagdad, also in 1957. The image on the cover of this album features
two dancers standing above El Bakkar himself, who is lounging on a cushion with an
‘oud. An overfilling fruit basket sits on the floor in front of him. He wears a circular hat
with feathers sprouting out of the top, and his wide-eyed look of mirth suggests that he is
inviting the viewer to join in his pleasure. The two dancers are wearing bright flowing
skirts and sparkly midriff-baring tops. They are both dark-haired and slender, and they
88
Brooks Atkinson, “‘Fanny’ to Music,” New York Times, November 21, 1954.
89
S.N. Behrman, “My life with ‘Fanny.”
90
“International review: The Magic Carpet: Mohammed El Bakkar & His Oriental
Ensemble,” Audio Fidelity AFLP 1895, Billboard Magazine, Jan 19, 1959.
60
hold finger cymbals in their raised hands. They look down upon Al Bakkar with demure
expressions. Unlike Nejla Ates, they look away from the camera and draw the viewer’s
eye down to Al Bakkar, who one can assume is supposed to be the sultan of Bagdad. This
image is a visual representation of the sonic tableau in “Yalla-Yalla” as the dancers hold
finger cymbals and can be pictured as part of a scenario in which other women would be
The album descriptions on all four of Al Bakkar’s Audio Fidelity albums also
helped connect visual and sonic imaginaries of the Middle East. Listeners reading the
back cover would have heard the sounds in direct relationship to the albums’ descriptions
as well as the cover images. As a reviewer asserts, “The music effectively calls up visions
of near-Eastern dancing girls much like those on the stunning full-color cover.”91 One
passage from the album notes for the Sultan of Bagdad album proclaims: “Here, fabulous
antiquities, modern oil pipelines, donkeys, camels and Cadillacs form a backdrop for high
living, wild parties, romance and eerie adventure the casual Western traveler hears little
about.92” This excerpt demonstrates an emphasis on the imagined ancient past of Iraq
combined with present oil wealth and eroticism; there is also an emphasis on the Sultan
himself as a patriarchal figure with access to female sexuality. In the imaginary world of
this album, the Sultan presides over his court, listening to music and being entertained by
his array of performers, many of whom are beautiful women. The album notes are
explicit about the Sultan’s power: “Behold the Sultan, supreme ruler of his realm, with
91
“Spotlight on sound: Sultan of Bagdad” (Music of the Middle East Vol. 2),
Mohammed El-Bakkar and Oriental Ensemble, Audio Fidelity AFLP 1834, Billboard
Magazine, Oct 14, 1957.
92
Mohammed El Bakkar, Sultan of Bagdad: Music of the Middle East Vol. 2, Audio
Fidelity AFLP 1834, 1957.
61
his harem, musicians, jugglers, dancing girls, magicians, sword swallowers, and acrobats.
See how the faces of the entourage reflect the orgies of memorable nights and the
excesses of pleasure that have tempted venal men for centuries.93” Read in conjunction
with the cover image and the song above, the words appear theatrical and campy, going
Mohammed Al Bakkar’s final two Audio Fidelity albums, The Magic Carpet and
Music of the African Arab were first released in 1958, and their receptions echo the sonic
and visual responses to Port Said and The Sultan of Bagdad. Music of the African Arab is
perhaps the most visually shocking, as it features a topless woman standing on a platform
above a crowd of men. The Billboard review for the album does not mention the cover,
however, asserting, “Here’s a new set that will delight hi-fi and sound bugs.” The
reviewer goes on to describe the album as “...exotic, rhythmically exciting and with the
rising and falling pitch typical of this type of music. It is performed excellently and the
sound is outstanding..”94
Mohammed Al Bakkar and Eddie “the Sheik” Kochak both contributed to a new pan-
Arab identity that was beginning to take root alongside the rise of Arab nationalism
abroad. For some Arab immigrant listeners, these artists kindled feelings of ethnic
solidarity and pride. The two performers introduced new sounds to an American public
that was simultaneously listening to calypso, mambo, and other “foreign” musics that
presented complex sonic and social landscapes of their own. It is undeniable that some
93
Mohammed El Bakkar, Sultan of Bagdad, anonymous liner notes.
94
“Sound albums: Music of the African Arab,” Mohammed El Bakkar and His Oriental
Ensemble, Vol. 3, Audio Fidelity, Billboard Magazine, Nov 3, 1958.
62
elements of ethnic exotica, such as the visual trope of the belly dancer and the scientific
has continued into the present. However, by circulating sounds that originated in the
Middle East, ethnic exotica also disrupted and “mocked” the binaries inherent in the
63
Chapter 2: Sun Ra’s Egyptomania: Afro-Orientalism and Symbolic Sampling
“Every song that I write tells a story…a story that humanity needs to know about. In my
music I speak of unknown things, impossible things, ancient things, potential things. No
two songs tell the same story. They say that history repeats itself. But history is only his
story. You haven’t heard my story yet. My story is different from his story. My story is
not part of history because history repeats itself, but my story it endless. It never repeats
itself – why should it? A sun set does not repeat itself. Neither does the sunrise. Nature
never repeats itself, why should I repeat myself?” – Sun Ra95
In December 1971, Sun Ra and his Arkestra of six dancers, two singers, and
twenty-two musicians spent two weeks in Egypt. The circumstances of their journey are
hazy, and many of the details remain unclear. One of the few pieces of documentation is
95
“Sun Ra: A Joyful Noise,” directed by Robert Mugge, (1980; Colorado Springs, CO:
Winstar, 1999), DVD.
96
“Sun Ra in Egypt and Italy,” YouTube video, footage from 1971 posted by “diangle,”
Dec 6, 2007, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5azChH6Z7QA.
64
silent black-and-white video footage the group shot at the pyramids in Giza. In it, Sun Ra
and several Arkestra members wear ancient Egyptian-inspired garb and they dance
joyously around the pyramids. Though the footage is silent, the performers carry their
instruments, and the potential soundtrack emanates from the screen. Wearing a metallic
cape, Sun Ra reaches the top of a hill and stands momentarily in an arch (see figure 3).
His back to the camera, he poses as a pharaoh overseeing his realm. He appears regal and
focused. In a story he told several interviewers, Sun Ra took a tour of the great pyramid
and entered the king’s chamber, and after saying the name “Ra” nine times, the lights
went out. For decades, Sun Ra steeped himself in ancient Egyptian aesthetics and
symbols, blurring science fiction and reality, and ultimately, his prolific body of work is
Known for his unique brand of free jazz that pushed at the margins of spectacle,
tradition Bill Mullen theorizes as constructing new geographic and social configurations
based on Black Nationalist and Marxist ideologies. While Mullen focuses on Afro-Asian
Sun Ra’s fanciful visual and sonic imaginings that his “Afro-Orientalism” emerges. The
under-theorized element of Afrofuturism, and one that offers rich material for analysis.
65
Tapping into Sun Ra’s spiritual vision and his Afrofuturist imagination to present a new
worldview, his work positions Egypt as the center of an African diasporic past:
While certain aspects of Sun Ra’s performances verge on European orientalism in their
imitative and appropriative impulses, they also chart new sonic and cultural imaginaries.
While perhaps not obvious, there are parallels to be drawn between mainstream
exotica and Sun Ra’s Afrofuturist aesthetic. John Szwed points out that the attempt to
convey a foreign landscape in musical form in Sun Ra’s early work is reminiscent of
the genre, there are definite parallels. Like exotica, the impulse behind much of Sun Ra’s
work was to transport listeners to a new place through sound; Ra’s audiences were
encouraged to imagine being transported to another world. The sound and the visual
aspects of the performance were closely joined, mutually reinforcing each other through a
web of connections. Unlike commercial exotica, however, these audiences were primarily
African American, and the worlds they imagined entering formed a Black Nationalist
consciousness.
Rooted in African American jazz, Sun Ra’s Egypt evokes a black aesthetic realm.
His production of a fantastical Egypt relies on a practice I term symbolic sampling, which
97
Bill Mullen, Afro-Orientalism, Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2004,
xv.
98
John Szwed, Space is the Place: The Life and Times of Sun Ra, Boston, MA: Da Capo
Press, 1998, p.151
66
resembles analog or digital sampling in its repetition of musical fragments.99 Digital
sampling came after Sun Ra’s time, but his use of sound fragments should be considered
a parallel technique. In Ra’s case, these fragments are used to invoke an Ancient
Egyptian past as part of a larger project of visualizing the future. These elements are
especially apparent in examples such as “The Nile” from When the Sun Comes Out
(1963) and the Sun Ra Arkestra’s 1983 collaboration with Egyptian drummer Salah
Ragab and his Cairo Jazz Band. By using the term symbolic sampling, I seek to re-
conceptualize the practice of sampling from a transnational vantage point, arguing for a
definition that includes the repetition of sounds that cite a source but do not necessarily
directly reproduce them. Sun Ra’s employment of symbolic sampling, along with the
materially real.
Sun Ra’s Egypt is sonically dense and its reverberations are jarring. It is not an
Egypt of magic carpets and genies to be captured and sold in LP form, but one of
powerful Pharaohs and overwhelming sensory beauty. His vision of the Middle East
contrasts with that of an American public interested in purchasing and listening to exotica
records, demonstrating the existence of parallel imaginaries surrounding the region. Sun
inserting black performative ingredients that twist, disrupt, and even queer it to the point
part of any political organization and spoke against the strategies of both Martin Luther
King, Jr. and the Black Panther Party, he was engaged in creating an alternate American
99
Sampling, which first emerged with the birth of the genre of hip-hop, was one of the
major contributions by black artists to music in the late-20th century.
67
universe in which African Americans belonged, and his Afro-Orientalist narrative
expressed a black radical aesthetic. Additionally, Sun Ra’s musical disavowal of tonal
and rhythmic conventions demonstrates his dedication to building new kinds of social
worlds. His music illustrates the presence of counter-imaginaries that worked against
While in Egypt, Sun Ra and the Arkestra played several concerts with the help of
German writer and musician Hartmut Geerken and Salah Ragab, a drummer and jazz
connoisseur and major in the Egyptian Army. During this trip and a subsequent visit in
1983, the Arkestra recorded the tracks that became the album Sun Ra Meets Salah Ragab
in Egypt. The band was supposedly delayed at customs because of the unlikeliness of Sun
Ra’s name, and according to Geerken, Sun Ra was disappointed to discover that the
modern Egyptian people were not black, or Hamitic, as he believed the ancient Egyptians
had been.100 This anecdote illustrates a productive disconnect between Sun Ra’s vision
and the “Arab Egypt” of the 20th century, and this gap was bridged when he brought the
Arkestra to Cairo. Looking toward Egypt to visualize a black past helped Sun Ra develop
a sonic and aesthetic sensibility that engendered radical belonging. The Egypt of his
imagination was a place of philosophical reason and artistic production located on the
100
Hartmut Geerken and Bernhard Hefele, Omniverse Sun Ra, Waitawhile Press, 1994, p.
121.
101
As Melani McAlister has compellingly argued about the cultural politics of the King
Tut exhibit in the 1970s, there have always been high stakes around the mapping of
Egypt as either part of Africa or the Middle East. The popular museum exhibit served as
an important site of debate between those who sought to claim the King Tut legacy as a
national commodity to be appreciated by the public at large, and those who came to view
it as a product of a black African culture that also marked the foundation of Western
civilization.
68
an Afro-Orientalism built around the dual fantasies of ancient Egypt and outer space.
Sun Ra encouraged his listeners to imagine both what it would mean if African
Americans could think about themselves as space travelers of the future, and also to
recognize the possibility that they were descended from an ancient Egyptian past. Sun
Ra’s complex philosophy about the cosmos included a focus on scientific and
travel and metaphysics. In his music, Sun Ra was interested in developing entirely new
approaches to sound and the nature of reality. As such, his music speaks across the genres
of big band jazz, free jazz, and exotica. Furthermore, Sun Ra’s performances are
use of the term102 as “not only out of the ordinary or unconventional performances but
also those that are ambiguous, uncanny, or difficult to read.”103 His musical and
philosophical identity in many ways defies categorization, and his particular style of
102
Brooks follows Carla Peterson’s discussion of the black female body’s eccentricity in
Doers of the Word: African-American Women Speakers and Writers in the North (1830-
1880) (Rutgers University Press, 1998) and “Eccentric Bodies” in Recovering the Black
Female Body: Self-Representations by African-American Women, ed. Michael Bennett
and Vanessa D. Dickerson (Rutgers University Press, 2001).
103
Francesca Royster, Sounding Like a No-No: Queer Sounds and Eccentric Acts in the
Post-Soul Era, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2012, p. 8.
104
Mullen, Afro Orientalism, p. xliv; 185. Mullen describes trickster jazz in relation to
performer Fred Ho: “It summons up linguistic, musical, and political touchstones of
subversion and liberation from Afro-Asian culture and deploys them in the service of a
69
Ra’s costumes often involved long, flowing robes in bright colors and inventive
headwear that did not fit into normative models of black masculinity. In one clip from the
documentary film Sun Ra: A Joyful Noise, Ra wears purple makeup on his face to match
his robe. Though not openly gay, his sumptuously-costumed performances can be viewed
as exhibiting a queer aesthetic. Perhaps not surprisingly, rumors have long circulated
about Sun Ra’s sexuality, with some claiming that he was “asexual” since he never
married and professed that sex was an unnecessary distraction from his music. Whether
or not he was actually gay or asexual is less relevant than the fact that his performance
“Sun Ra’s campy, outlandish, and often gender-bending stage aesthetic, combing
jewels, and African bubas and wraps), as well as his relationship to space and time could
be read as queer....”105 Additionally, the model of group housing in which members of the
Arkestra lived together and shared meals points to a non-heteronormative paradigm that
challenged 1960s and 70s gender norms, indicating yet another level on which Ra
Sun’s Ra’s musical career was concurrent with several major sociopolitical shifts
including the Cold War, the Civil Rights Movement, and global decolonization. As Ingrid
Monson contends, jazz musicians of the mid-20th century responded to these new social
landscapes. Along with these changes came a black politics of the diaspora that sought
alliances with African and Asian “non-aligned” nations. The rise of the Nation of Islam
70
added another perspective on the importance of a global diaspora in thinking about
African American identity, linking “black, brown, red, and yellow people” around the
world through a common religious identity. Muslim musicians played a significant role in
modernism’s vision of universality....”106 The key goal for many African Americans, and
for African American artists in particular, was a similar one of searching for alternatives
The end of World War II and the beginning of the Cold War marked a transition
into U.S. global power that eroded the strength of black transnational labor alliances that
had united around anti-colonialism and anti-imperialism, and brought increased focus on
domestic rights.107 The presence of these anti-imperialist alliances during much of the
1940s, however, demonstrates that transnational concerns were very much part of the
African American political consciousness during this time. The Bandung conference in
1955 was an important moment for the Non-Aligned movement, but Von Eschen argues
that by the mid-1950s the strong ties between African Americans and labor groups
abroad had waned for the most part. However, the influence of a transnational solidarity
movement did persist into the 1950s and 60s in the form of jazz concerts dedicated to
African and Asian themes. The handbill for one such concert in Harlem in 1963
advertised an “African Bag,” featuring “the beginning of a new creative force in jazz.” If
an evening of jazz wasn’t enough to draw audiences, the flyer promised free Egyptian
106
Ingrid Monson, Freedom Sounds: Civil Rights Call Out to Jazz and Africa, Oxford,
UK: Oxford University Press, 2007, p. 147.
107
See Penny Von Eschen, Race Against Empire: Black Americans and Anticolonialism,
1937-1957, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997.
71
perfume for the ladies.108 While not explicitly political, these concerts did signal interest
vital in the process of funding and broadcasting the message of Civil Rights domestically.
As Monson asserts, from the 1950s to the mid-1960s there was a gradual transformation
in the way that many within the jazz community thought about themselves and their
This coincided with a discourse linking jazz with integration, as a move toward
increasing racial equality within the music industry itself, which up until the 1960s was
uncontroversial issue, however, and at times the question of race within the jazz world
became highly contentious. The questions that came up in these debates revolved around
who was entitled to speak about jazz and black experience, biological and cultural
explanations for racial difference, and the existence of reverse discrimination against
roundtable conversation between white critic Ira Gitler and jazz musicians Abbey
Lincoln and Max Roach. The magazine organized this discussion after Gitler wrote a
negative review of Lincoln’s album Straight Ahead in which he criticized her for
Amiri Baraka was another major player in this conversation about music and
racial identity, and he was also responsible for making certain artists known in the social
108
Monson, Freedom Sounds, p. 145
109
Ibid, p. 240
110
Ibid, p. 239
72
milieu he participated in. As a critic, Baraka championed jazz artists he believed would
cultivate black social awareness, and he wrote several glowing reviews of Sun Ra’s work,
claiming that it was a music “full of Africa.”111 In an essay called “Jazz and the White
Critic” from his book Black Music, Baraka argues for jazz to be understood in its full
context, something that white critics struggle to accomplish, especially when they
analyze music strictly in musicological terms. As he says, “Negro music is essentially the
secondarily an attitude about the way music is made.”112 This suggests that jazz, and
black music more generally, is more about a worldview than a specific aesthetic.113
In the mid-1950s, Sun Ra developed a larger band that he eventually named the
Arkestra, “a name which alluded both to the Egyptian god Ra’s ark, his solar boat, and to
the ark--literally a box--which held the covenant.”114 Also, the word happened to be “‘the
way black people say ‘orchestra.’”115 He rehearsed intensely with the Arkestra, telling his
musicians that they needed to be “tone scientists” who could match metaphorical ideas
111
LeRoi Jones, Black Music, New York, NY: Akashic Books, 2010, p. 148
112
Ibid, p. 17
113
During his time in Chicago during the 1950s, Sun Ra associated with various people
with a wide range of views and beliefs, including black Muslims, Communists, and
Garveyites. A central figure in this discussion group was Alton Abraham, a fourteen-
year-old student who later became Sun Ra’s band manager and was a longtime friend and
supporter of his music. Though there were similarities between Sun Ra’s philosophical
ideas and those of Elijah Mohammad, the founder of the Nation of Islam, there were also
key differences: “Where Elijah favored a controlled, cautious approach to belief, putting
behind him any sense of Christian ecstasy, Sonny reveled in a Dionysian display of joy.
And though Sonny shared Muslim views on avoiding liquor and alcohol and minimizing
the distractions of sex, the Nation’s concern with modest, conservative dress made no
sense to him as a performer.”
114
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 175
115
Ibid
73
with their sounds. The principles of unity and discipline were crucial, and he told his
musicians, “We’re like space warriors. Music can be used as a weapon, as energy. The
right note or chord can transport you into space using music and energy flow. And the
listeners can travel along with you.”116 In 1958, he began collecting and designing
theatrical “space” costumes that often displayed visual symbols associated with ancient
Egypt, and were a direct challenge to the conservative tradition of big band uniforms. He
also became interested in the power of color as a spiritual and therapeutic tool.
In New York City, the Arkestra played a regular gig at Slug’s Saloon from 1966
to 1972. They wore a series of brightly colored costumes and eventually integrated new
instruments, including the Japanese koto, Chinese violin, West African kora, and the Sun
Column, which was a golden metal tube that was struck like a percussion instrument.117
Two first two women to perform with the group, June Tyson and Verta Mae Grovesnor,
also joined the Arkestra as dancer-singers, taking on the role of “space goddesses.”118
Visitors such as James McCoy, Salvador Dali, Hank Dumas, Ishmael Reed, Amiri
Baraka, and Amus Mor came to watch or participate. Jazz critic Michael Zwerin
The beat kept on, building intensity. Everyone in the band was playing a
percussion instrument of some kind. One of them started to chant. The volume
grew and spread. It built further. I was being altogether mauled and caressed at
the same time. It was a loving grit, a soft racket. It wrapped itself around me. It
ended...I was wrung-out: Sun Ra’s music is pagan, religious, simple, complex,
and almost everything else at the same time. It is ugly and beautiful and terribly
interesting. It’s new music, yet I’ve been hearing it for years.119
116
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 94
117
Ibid, p. 194
118
Ibid, p. 251
119
Ibid, p. 224
74
Thus, there was a sense that Sun Ra’s music and aesthetic practices represented the
furthest end of what was cutting edge at the time, and he attracted a group of like-minded
Sun Ra’s vast musical catalog resists categorization, and he sought to reach the
widest possible audience with his music in hopes that it would have a broad
transformational effect. In the liner notes to his 1957 debut album, Jazz by Sun Ra, Ra
articulates his goals for how his music should impact the listener. He states, “The real
aim of this music is to co-ordinate the minds of peoples into an intelligent reach for a
better world, and an intelligent approach to the living future.”120 Therefore, Sun Ra’s
symbolic sonic references to Ancient Egypt were central to the creation of an Afro-
Orientalist futurist vision. Ra’s over-thirty-year career resulted in the legacy of the still-
active Sun Ra Arkestra, and includes over a hundred full-length albums, from the
foundational Jazz in Silhouette (1958), to the psychedelic Liquidity (1978) and ancient
Sun Ra famously claimed that he was from Saturn and had no mother or father,
often evading questions about his past and creating a mysterious persona of intergalactic
that defied enlightenment rationalism. His declarations of alienness and inhumanity were
no doubt part of the public image he wished to create, and they were also likely a result
experiences in Ra’s early life that led to a sense of alienation and that likely contributed
to his belief that music and art were the only solutions to this deep and ongoing isolation.
120
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 155
75
Born in Birmingham, Alabama in 1914, Sun Ra was named Herman Poole Blount.
Herman’s mother and great aunt worked at Terminal Station, the largest train station in
the south at the time and a symbol of the rapid urbanization taking hold in Birmingham at
the turn of the 19th century, which earned it the nickname of the “Magic City.” Though
the city of Birmingham was a center of industrialization, the Great Depression and the
Birmingham was the most segregated city in the country during 1920s and 1930s,
and made Herman keenly attuned to the realities of white privilege. During World War II,
entirely, but after failing to appear at the work camp where he’d been assigned, he spent
thirty-nine days at a county jail in Jasper, Alabama. He was then taken to a work camp in
Marienville, Pennsylvania. Camp doctors eventually discharged him, declaring him “‘a
work camp was not segregated, and though he said little about it later, Ra likely felt
alienated due to his racial identity: “When [bandmates] asked him to talk about camp, he
said there was nothing to tell. ‘A white man heard me play, and said ‘You don’t belong
here.’”123
child, his research later in life led him to question certain elements of the Bible. Sun Ra
121
In first great migration up to 1.6 million African Americans moved out of the rural
south and into northern industrial cities from the 1910s to the 1930s. According to Isabel
Wilkerson in The Warmth of Other Suns: The Story of America’s Great Migration,
between these years the African American population in certain urban centers in the north
grew by up to forty percent.
122
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 47
123
Ibid
76
undertook a project of uncovering the original roles he believed black people had played
According to Szwed, “as he went deeper into the Bible he began to understand the
meaning of ‘revised’: it had been edited, and some books removed...to make it whole
again would take knowledge of ancient languages and histories as well as of texts that
noticed that Nimrod, Mechizedek, and the sons of Ham and Cush were either minimal
characters or were disrespected.125 He saw his project as one of restoring the hidden truth
of the Bible. Similarly, from this process of discovery he came to believe that scholarship
about ancient Egypt had been manipulated to conceal the fact that the skin color of the
Egyptians was black, a truth that would impact the entire history of his people.126 From
this realization, he discovered that the exercise of narrating history was essentially the
same as creating a mythology. Through espousing a new mythology of the past, Sun Ra
saw the potential to start anew with visions and stories that would restore black people to
their rightful place in the scheme of history. In a mid-1950s pamphlet titled “United
Many insertions have been put in the bible by men who tampered with the
original books, these men were not white. They were Asiatic priests who had
subjugated the keepers of the original wisdom books. The keepers of the wisdom
books were Egyptians. From Egypt came wisdom that enlightened the world. The
ancient Egyptians were considered as being of the race of Ham. The United States
124
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 64
125
Ibid
126
In 1954, George G.M. James published Stolen Legacy, which was originally titled,
Stolen Legacy: the Greeks Were Not the Authors of Greek Philosophy but the People of
North Africa, Commonly Called the Egyptians. In addition to making the argument that
the legacy of the ancient Greeks was actually stolen from the Egyptians, James contended
that ancient Egyptians were black Africans. This book had an influence on numerous
black intellectuals during the period, as white scholars had generally not acknowledged
the possibility that ancient Egyptians were black. Sun Ra confirmed to Graham Lock that
he had read the book, but he did not say exactly when.
77
represents the ancient Egyptian race of Ham, and since it does you may as well
call it greater Egypt. You can plainly see that it has connection with Ham, in the
first place, it is called Uncle “Sam” which rimes with Ham...Proof of this is the
eagle, which is also the symbol of Egypt in Africa. There is a kinship between
Africa and America. The Bible is a dangerous book, it is a destructive force
prepared to ensnare those who hate understanding of wisdom. Knowledge of the
meaning of the Bible can make America greater than any country now or ever.127
The parallel Ra drew between Egypt and America and the emphasis on America
as potentially one of the “greatest” countries ever to exist is echoed in further pamphlets
warning against the disastrous results that would ensue from misinterpreting the Bible.
Unlike Marcus Garvey and other black nationalists who promoted a total split from the
solve the American “negro problem” by accepting the truth that ancient Egypt had
originated as a black society. This would involve a major shift in thinking, as Christianity
had long been embraced as a source of moral and emotional uplift in black communities,
and few were eager to abandon their faith. There were other thinkers at the time however,
such as the growing Nation of Islam, which advocated for a similarly thorough rejection
of Christian theology.
In 1952, Ra legally changed his name to “Le Sony’r Ra.” Szwed writes, “When
someone told him that ‘Re’ was a feminine form of ‘Ra,’ the name of the sun god of
ancient Egypt, a name which would connect with ‘cosmology and planets and stars’ and
was ‘related to immortality and the universe,’ he began calling himself Sonny Ra.”128
Sun Ra was the abbreviated version that became his stage name. By naming himself after
the Egyptian sun god, he legally distanced himself from his family name, Herman Blount,
127
Sun Ra, “United States at the Crossroads,” in Corbett, ed. The Wisdom of Sun Ra,
University of Chicago Press, 2006, p. 112
128
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 83
78
and explicitly identified himself as a god among men. The name Sun Ra symbolized the
persona he had come to embrace, which was part of the black tradition of naming as a
subversive act that dated back to slavery, working outside and against white social
conventions, and echoed in the name changes of Malcolm X, Amiri Baraka, and many
others. As Graham Lock writes, “Herman Blount, obscure pianist from Alabama, was
reborn as Le Sony’r Ra, ancient African god from outer space, a living myth at ‘the
that claimed Egypt as a black space and at the same time established a link with
the discourse of European orientalism, asserting a new Afro-Arab aesthetic in its place.
By taking visual signs such as pyramids, Egyptian headwear, and gold jewelry, and
transforming them into symbols of African American liberation, Sun Ra created his own
displays, with intricate costumes, lights, and projections to accompany the music. As
Amiri Baraka wrote in 1966, “The band produces an environment, with their music most
of all, but also with their dress (gold cloth of velvet, headbands and hats, shining tunics).
The lights go out on some tunes, and the only lights are flashing off a band on Sun-Ra’s
head...”130 The effect was to materially produce Ra’s conceptualizations for the audience.
Sonically and visually, then, Sun Ra performs a vision of Egypt that reworks and resists
129
Graham Lock, Blutopia: Visions of the Future and Revisions of the Past in the Work
of Sun Ra, Duke Ellington, and Anthony Braxton, Durham, NC: Duke University Press,
2000 p. 74.
130
LeRoi Jones, Black Music, p. 148.
79
the global mappings of European colonialism, and building new maps out of sonic
interconnections.
Along with other images he used to encourage black self-determination, the direct
link Sun Ra saw between the civilization of ancient Egypt and African Americans
informed both the sound of his musical compositions and his own stage presence. Sun Ra
even went so far as to imply parallels between himself and the Biblical Pharaoh through
discipline over freedom, and even a 1979 album entitled I, Pharaoh. Playing a Pharaonic
role gave him the ability to inhabit a radical Afrofuturist position, one that spanned a
wide expanse of time and space. His inhabiting of the black Pharaoh role also forced
Middle East and Egypt as situated on the African continent. Sun Ra’s veneration of
ancient Egypt drew upon questions that had emerged among African Americans during
the 19th century, and rather than remain ambivalent about “Pharaoh as tyrant” versus
empowerment.131 This approach was informed by a realization that blackness had been
131
While some African Americans haunted by the memory of slavery identified with the
Biblical Israelites,, secular African American thinkers, including David Walker, Henry
Highland Garnet, and Pauline Hopkins, had begun to claim ancient Egypt as a
fundamentally black civilization. Therefore, a crucial question arose, as Wilson Jeremiah
Moses points out in Afrotopia: The Roots of African American Popular History: “If
African Americans cherished the myth that their historical situation bore a contemporary
resemblance to that of the Israelites in Egypt, how could they simultaneously nurture the
belief that they bore a special historical relationship to Nile Valley civilization and to
those same pharaohs who had oppressed the biblical Hebrews?” (47). In many ways this
question was answered by looking to Ethiopia: “The contradictory attitudes toward Egypt
were reconciled in the myth of ‘Ethiopianism,’ a teleological view of history with African
people at its center...Ethiopia and Egypt, thus associated, were soon merged in the
consciousness of many black Christians” (51). In the 19th century, Ethiopia became
80
viewed as a source of fear: “Negroes had long been a threatening force, their race a
cipher that needed to be explained away in order to sustain white people’s claims to the
ancient world. It was a competing mythology white people had to at once suppress and
demonize.”132 Though this aspect was only one element of his persona, Sun Ra’s
Pharaonic blackness was central to his image, both as bandleader and public performer.
Beyond simply believing in the fact that Biblical history should be revised to bring
African Americans to the forefront, he actually embodied this philosophy in his persona,
performance practice, and in his music itself. All of these components together enacted
what he saw as his purpose to educate others about the “truth” -- the history and future of
black people, which included the pivotal history of black Egypt. 133
Egypt to anyone who would listen to his music, Sun Ra communicated an alternative to
the sonic imaginary of the Middle East. Though his aural citations were often based on
sounds that may have emerged from ethnic or lounge exotica, Ra’s imaginary
band and nightclub performer in Chicago, Philadelphia, and New York made him keenly
entangled in colonialism when Italy attempted to take control beginning in the 1870s.
Ethiopian armies finally defeated Italy in the battle of Adwa in 1896, which demonstrated
the possibility of European defeat, a rare occurrence in the long history of British,
French, Spanish, and Portuguese colonial rule. After this battle, European powers were
momentarily proved to be less indestructible than they previously had seemed, and the
knowledge of this history signaled a glimmer of possibility for African Americans and
those in the Global South engaged in anti-imperialism.
132
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 73
133
Scott Trafton argues that the figure of Egypt in African American thought is a
“radically heterogeneous discourse,” providing an example of what Lisa Lowe calls “the
nonequivalence of various orientalisms.”
81
aware of the musical trends of the moment, his sonic ideas always pushed the boundaries
One important example is “The Nile” from the 1962 album When Sun Comes Out.
While it may not have been intended to be a direct musical rendering of the Nile River,
the title indicates the track’s depiction of an imagined ancient Egypt. This titling practice
resembles the tendency in lounge and ethnic exotica to produce music inspired by
faraway locales with the intention of taking the audience on a journey. Unlike the
creators of lounge exotica, however, Sun Ra was self-conscious about his mythologizing
of the past, and did it for the strategic purpose of building new frameworks for thinking
about African American identity. “The Nile” is an instrumental track, and it features
Marshall Allan on an improvisatory flute part and Ra playing a repeating piano riff. It
begins with the double bass playing a plucked three-note pattern accompanied by the low
trill of the flute. The percussion section then enters with the piano; the piano riff is a
simple syncopated three-note pattern, echoing the double bass. The track’s percussion is
composed of several drums that are played with a loose and somewhat chaotic rhythm.
The flute glides above the other instruments with its own improvisational line, and its
Egypt in this song. Not only does the flute appear to improvise its melodic line, but it also
swoops and slides between tones in the Western scale, landing on quartertones. Aside
from the heavy percussion, these in-between notes are the main components that mark the
134
Many of the early associations with both Egypt and Ethiopia lingered into the 20th
century, and they were taken up in conversations about race among African Americans in
the 1950s and 1960s. These dialogues were particularly consequential for those interested
in generating ideologies of Black Nationalism.
82
song as Egyptian or Arab. The improvisatory line of the flute also at times imitates the
sound of the nay, a traditional flute made from reeds traditionally grown on the banks of
the Nile. The flute is not featured in other tracks on this album, and Ra’s choice to use it
in this song may indicate an attempt to imitate the nay. Halfway through “The Nile,”
there is a percussion solo that also identifies the Egyptian influence on the track. The
drums begin tentatively, and then they slowly ramp up to a frenzied pace, stopping
suddenly when the double bass and piano reenter. Put together, these aspects exemplify a
symbolic sampling of an Arab aesthetic and illustrate Sun Ra’s ability to musically
The sonic imaginary of this track stretches between the spaces of Sun Ra’s Egypt
and African American jazz. Listening to it, one can hear jazz in the syncopated rhythms,
as well as the instrumental combination of double bass, flute, piano, and percussion. Jazz,
match Sun Ra’s alter-destiny.136 Jazz becomes a vehicle through which Ra is able to
make this Egyptian past come alive and become tangible, providing an alternate universe
for listeners to reside in. The Egypt he creates occupies an in-betweenness of both time
and space, neither ancient nor modern, and neither here nor there. Just as Sun Ra’s outer
space is at once hyper-technological and surreal, his Egypt is based on Biblical thought
135
It is possible that Sun Ra had heard Muhammad Abdul Wahab’s famous piece “Al
Nahr al Khaled,” or “Eternal River,” which was also dedicated to the Nile and had similar
instrumentation, though there was a violin playing the melody line instead of a flute.
136
Kun uses the term “audiotopia” to refer to “[spaces] within and produced by a musical
element that offers the listener and/or musician new maps for re-imagining the present
social world,” Audiotopia, p. 22-23.
83
and also mythologized for his own purposes. The Egypt he hears includes fragments of a
expectations in Arab music and jazz. Improvisation is one of the main organizational
components of jazz, and it is included via intermittent instrumental solos that demonstrate
skill. The art of improvisation involves a high degree of musical aptitude and expertise. It
is one of the main ingredients in jazz as well as black performance more broadly, and
scholars have suggested that it is one of the key elements of the black radical aesthetic.
Similarly, improvisation appears as a central theme in traditional Arab music, and skilled
musicians are expected to be able to improvise in any maqam. This improvisatory ethic
makes up part of Sun Ra’s vision of Egypt, and the emphasis on riffing on a theme points
out a correlation between the aesthetics of jazz and the aesthetics of Arab music that Sun
Ra may or may not have been aware of. This connection also indicates the possibility for
Sun Ra’s ancient Egyptian sonic imaginary was in many ways informed by his
concerns about scholarly misreadings of the Bible that both overlooked and
misrepresented the significance of black Africans. His interest in the ancient world and
belief in the misreading of the Bible meant that he was was chiefly attuned to ancient
Egypt, but Ethiopia also appeared in this constellation of social and philosophical ideas.
The track “Ancient Aethopia” appeared is from 1959’s Jazz in Silhouette, which came
out the same year as Mohammad Al Bakkar’s Sultan of Bagdad. This track demonstrates
Sun Ra’s dedication to excavating and paying tribute to what he deemed “black” in the
Bible; this Biblical blackness is audible in the strange dissonance of the track. “Ancient
84
Aiethopia” utilizes the full Arkestra, including horns and brass, and it features a flute duet
The track begins with a repeating double bass figure accompanied by a piano line.
Soon the rest of the band enters with the main theme, followed by a dissonant flute duet
with sharp and strident notes. A slow, atmospheric trumpet solo then catches the listener
with several chromatic passages that sound dusky and mysterious, and Sun Ra chimes in
with a virtuosic piano solo. The instrumental elements of the piece all contribute to an
uncanny or “primitive” sound that Sun Ra intended to represent Biblical blackness. The
most unusual aspect of “Ancient Aiethopia” is a section where male voices chant in an
unintelligible language, accompanied by drums, cymbals and gongs. The voices sound
distant and strange, depicting their “ancientness.” They chant in broken unison that
Primitivism was a major artistic movement during the 1910s and 20s, and was
taken up as part of an avant-garde aesthetic. From the turn of the 20th century, jazz had
tendency to associate African American culture with the primitive, based on racist
assumptions about blackness as barbaric. Some critics viewed jazz as evidence for this
barbarism and warned others about the savagery of jazz rubbing off on those who listened
to it.137 While many African American jazz artists were offended by this sentiment, some
sought to take advantage of the “primitive craze” by incorporating it into the titles of their
songs. And others were attracted to the idea that there was a close relationship between
137
David Chinitz, “Rejuvenation Through Joy: Langston Hughes, Primitivism, and Jazz,”
American Literary History, Vol 9, No 1 (Spring 1997): 60-78.
85
African American culture and Africa: “Primitivism reinforced the importance of the
influenced by Marcus Garvey.”138 This opened an opportunity for jazz artists and
enthusiasts to think about their work as an expression of this link with an African
In musical works like “Ancient Aethopia,” Sun Ra found a way to revisit this
concept of primitivism and rework it for his own musical and philosophical purposes: the
resembles the sound of “The Nile” in its syncopation and use of a simple melodic theme
running through the entirety of the track. The repeating phrases and melodic dissonance
echo the previous example. Here, Sun Ra references the tradition of primitivist
representing an ancient past. He taps into and generates a black aesthetic nationalism
defined by an interest in creating sonic beauty. Sun Ra’s habit of pushing at the
boundaries of what was sonically, visually, and culturally expected is, by Fred Moten’s
The considerable duration of Sun Ra’s career meant that he witnessed numerous
shifts in the development of African American music. Jazz went from a “big band”
moment in the 1930s and 40s, to bebop and hard bop in the 1950s, to free jazz and the
“New Thing” of the 1960s and onward. Though he never specifically identified himself
as part of one particular musical trend, and in fact rejected the “avant-garde” label, Sun
Ra was part of an experimental movement that was dedicated to using music as a tool of
138
Chinitz, “Rejuvenation Through Joy,” p. 65.
86
social change. The concept of a black avant-garde is complicated because some critics
have assumed a correlation with European modernism. Thinkers such as Fred Moten,
however, argue that by virtue of undergoing the horror of slavery, African Americans
developed an artistic radicalism that works from within to challenge and transcend the
European avant-garde.
surprise moving in the rich nonfullness of every term it modifies.” Moten’s point here is
reminiscent of Paul Gilroy’s argument about the development of black music being a
“counterculture of modernity,” working both within and against the currents of European
modernity. According to Monson, “Baraka, Shepp, Taylor, and other members of this
young jazz intelligentsia used modernism both to defy racially imposed limitations on
what an African American artist could be and to demand the development of a new, more
avant-garde, Sun Ra’s work initiated conversations about the relationship between
blackness and an artistic cutting edge. Moten contends that there has been a longstanding
problematic assumption that the avant-garde was necessarily white: “What I’ve been
specifically interested in here is how the idea of a black avant-garde exists, as it were,
oxymoronically--as if black, on the one hand, and avant-garde, on the other, each
While Sun Ra may have been aware of the history of European experimentalism,
his style was consistently in line with an explicitly African American musical aesthetic.
139
Monson, Freedom Sounds: Civil Rights Call Out to Jazz and Africa, p. 261
140
Fred Moten, In the Break: The Aesthetics of the Black Radical Tradition, Minneapolis,
MN: University of Minnesota Press, 2003. p. 33
87
Moreover, he made certain that all areas of his artistic output were conceived and
executed by black people; there were never any white managers or members of the
Arkestra. The idea of a cutting edge in high art may have come from the European Art
Music tradition, but according to Monson, Sun Ra and others like Archie Shepp and Cecil
Taylor demonstrated that “the melding of European ideas of an artistic vanguard and Pan-
African and Pan-Asian religious ideas helped to define a conception of music as a sphere
in which radical redefinitions of the self could take place--redefinitions that helped many
musicians and their devoted audiences to break out of the socially imposed niche that
Amiri Baraka was one of the key critics writing about the experimental trend
known as the “New Thing” in the 1960s, and he took up the term “avant garde” in a black
popular music context. In an a 1961 essay on “The Jazz Avant-Garde,” he made the case
that in this new form, musicians were utilizing certain features of bebop, but also
beginning to move past it in terms of melodic and rhythmic innovation. Two examples
are the “jaggedness” of Ornette Coleman’s rhythms and Archie Shepp’s “refusal to
admit...that there is a melody.”142 For Baraka, this jazz avant-garde was an important step
away from what he viewed as the musical conservatism and predictability of the 1950s.
Baraka first wrote about Sun Ra in 1963, explaining that he hadn’t yet heard him play,
but that “a great many people I respect told me that weird Sun-Ra (whom I had always
141
Monson, Freedom Sounds, p. 262
142
Amiri Baraka, Black Music, p. 92
143
Ibid, p. 107
88
of Sun-Ra is one of the most beautiful albums I have ever heard. It is a deeply fulfilling
experience. And one realization that this album gave me was the fact that the Sun-Ra-
Myth-Science Arkestra is really the first big band of the New Black Music.”144
In 1983, Sun Ra returned to Egypt to record several tracks with Salah Ragab, the
jazz drummer he had met in Cairo in 1971. This collaboration was unusual; it was one of
the few times Sun Ra recorded with an artist outside the Arkestra, and seven tracks they
recorded together in 1983 and 1984 were eventually released on an album titled Sun Ra
Arkestra Meets Salah Ragab in Egypt. This collaboration marks a shift in Sun Ra’s
thought about Egypt, from focusing solely on the ancient world for its status as a black
civilization, to actively working with a modern Arab jazz artist on a musical project.
Ragab and Ra’s work together is indicative of the fact that Sun Ra was interested in
experimenting with what “Egyptian jazz” might sound like both as a concept and as a
free-flowing jazz. In their recordings, one can hear Ra’s imagined Egypt as well as
Ragab’s own interpretation of American jazz. Ragab studied with Malik Osman, also
known as Mac X Spears, an African American jazz saxophonist who lived in Cairo in the
1960s.
In 1968, along with several German ex-patriots from the Goethe Institute, Ragab
founded the Cairo Jazz Band, apparently Egypt’s first professional jazz ensemble. Ragab
was obviously inspired by black American politics of the period, and one of the 1971
tracks is titled “Music for Angela Davis.” Thirteen minutes long, this piece is full of fast
moving trumpet lines that constantly intersect and compete for attention, alongside
144
Amiri Baraka, Black Music, p. 149.
89
crashing percussion sounds. While there are moments of calm and relative harmony, the
majority of the track is loud and atonal. Dedicating this song to Angela Davis
demonstrates Ragab’s opposition to her imprisonment along with her radical political
message of black power in the late-1960s and early-1970s. It also represents a complex
transatlantic musical and sociopolitical trajectory. Here, Egyptian Arabs living under the
rule of Gamal Abdel Nasser, and friends and collaborators of Sun Ra, take up an
Angela Davis. As Sun Ra had long found inspiration in ancient Egyptian culture, Arab
Egyptians in the Cairo Jazz Band also appeared to identify with African American
culture. Moreover, while the cultural politics of jazz didn’t couldn’t be directly translated
into a modern Egyptian context, “Music for Angela Davis” imparts evidence that Ragab
appreciated the sociopolitical disruption that was at the heart of experimental jazz.
Sun Ra’s recorded collaboration with Salah Ragab came late in his career, and the
resulting recordings constitute a complex musical world where several sonic universes
collide. Of the tracks Sun Ra and Saleh Ragab recorded together, Ragab is the composer
of two out of the three, and he plays percussion on the recordings. The Arkestra’s role on
the Ragab-composed tracks, “Dawn,” and “Egypt Strut,” is not only to play the
Within these solo and embellishment sections, a symbolic sampling component arises as
Sun Ra and the Arkestra chime in with motifs evoking a black Egyptian imaginary. The
track “Egypt Strut” features a recurring melodic minor piano scale with a raised 7th note,
90
a classic “Oriental” scale.145 One can only imagine that Ragab wrote this piece with an
American audience in mind, and sought to mix a sound he assumed would evoke
Egyptian-ness with his own version of jazz. The piece was released on an album all-
Ragab compositions featuring the Cairo Jazz Band, and so therefore one can compare
The Cairo Jazz Band’s recording of “Egypt Strut” is fast and rhythmically tight,
and the sound falls somewhere between big band and rock ‘n’ roll. The title, “Egypt
Strut,” points to an early-20th century ragtime dance influence, and the piece could in
fact be easily danced to. Beyond the melodic minor scale, the main element identifying
the piece as Egyptian is a brief duet by the mizmar, a high-pitched double reed
instrument. The melody line switches back and forth between the piano and the rest of the
band, and when the trumpet, mizmar, piano, and electric guitar play interludes, they all
adhere to the 4/4 rhythmic structure already established. In the song’s format, the band
pauses for two counts after a three-note descending pattern and the piano picks up the
melody. As a whole, the sound is clean and lyrical and without significant atonality.
While there is both syncopation and “swing” in the rhythm, it stays within the confines of
a big band concept. The incorporation of electric guitar into the instrumental mix at the
end of the song projects an early rock and roll vibe, indicating that Ragab was intrigued
145
This same scale was used in the 1895 tune “The Streets of Cairo” written for the
Columbian Exposition in Chicago. It has been recycled numerous times in popular
culture since the late-19th century, perhaps most recently with the lyrics “There’s a place
in France/Where the naked ladies dance,” and has also been known as the snake charmer
song. To an American ear, the melody immediately summons up an Orientalized image
of a foreign place where female sexuality is on public display.
91
Sun Ra’s collaborated version of “Egypt Strut,” by contrast, opens with an
extended synthesizer riff that leads into the full band playing the melody. From the 1960s
on, Sun Ra was known for his interest in employing new technology in unusual ways,
and he often experimented with the electric piano or Moog synthesizer. On “Egypt Strut”
fantasy. The bulk of Ra’s improvisation is made up of a series of five high-register notes
that are consistently repeated and at certain points he repeats a single note, a symbolic
sampling that reworks Ragab’s original version of the song. The tempo is noticeably
slower in the collaboration, and Sun Ra often plays with the structure of the rhythm by
slowing down and speeding up in his solos. He also frequently dips into atonality, and
instead of pausing for each instrumental interlude, when John Gilmore plays a saxophone
solo, Ra creates an eerie accompaniment with his own synthesizer line. Later in the piece,
the Arkestra plays along with Sun Ra’s solo as it takes on a more frenzied and chaotic
energy.
big band aesthetic meshed with an Oriental-sounding melody. Sun Ra’s model, on the
other hand, brings together the outer space and ancient Egypt elements of his philosophy.
The synthesizer symbolizes his dedication to space age Afrofuturism in the form of new
technology, and there is an unearthly quality to the sound that emphasizes this Egypt-in-
space fantasy. By agreeing to work with Salah Ragab and record two of his compositions,
Sun Ra acknowledged the existence of a modern Egypt that was different from the one he
92
imagined, at the same time paying tribute to the black Egypt of his imagination through
the frenetic improvisation of his solo. The integration of Sun Ra’s two philosophical
themes in this piece reinforces the fact that music was a medium through which he could
actually fulfill his ideological and spiritual goals. The performance of these sounds made
his seemingly wild ideas about the promise of outer space and ancient Egypt tangible and
Conclusion
In the 1980 documentary film Sun Ra: A Joyful Noise, there are clips of Sun Ra
performing with the Arkestra juxtaposed with scenes of him waxing poetic about his
stands next to a stone sphinx with hieroglyphic writing on the side and says, “Somehow,
kingdom of discipline. The kingdom of precision. The kingdom of culture, beauty, art.”
He then points to the wall carved with hieroglyphics behind him and continues, “It would
be better to say that because this is the proof of it. The stones are speaking through
juxtapositions between Ra speaking and long clips of the Arkestra playing on a rooftop
illustrate the continuity of his philosophical vision and the way its mobilization in reality.
Sun Ra sought to reach the widest possible audience with his music in hopes that
it would have a broad transformational effect. In the liner notes for Jazz by Sun Ra, he
articulates his goals for how his music should impact the listener: “The real aim of this
music is to co-ordinate the minds of peoples into an intelligent reach for a better world,
146
Sun Ra: A Joyful Noise, DVD.
93
and an intelligent approach to the living future.”147 Therefore, not only were Sun Ra’s
believed the sounds themselves could shift the course of human development in the
147
Szwed, Space is the Place, p. 155.
94
Chapter 3: Affiliatory Desires: Consuming the Middle East in World Music
In September 1999, the British pop artist Sting released “Desert Rose,” a single
from his album Brand New Day. A duet with Algerian rai singer Cheb Mami, the song
became a hit in the U.S. as well as Europe and the U.K., reaching #17 on the Billboard
Hot 100 list, and excerpts from the video appeared in a Jaguar commercial.148 The song
begins with a melismatic passage by Cheb Mami, followed by a solo sung in Arabic.
Sting and Mami take turns singing, Sting in English and Mami in Arabic. This bilingual
music” began to cross over into the mainstream. Rai, an Algerian urban folk music that
emerged in the 1930s, was already widespread in France but had not been popularized in
the U.S. While American listeners were first been introduced to rai in the late-1980s,
Sting’s “Desert Rose” boosted its profile exponentially when top-40 radio stations around
The music video for “Desert Rose” cuts between Cheb Mami singing in a Las
Vegas club and Sting driving through the Nevada desert to meet him for the
performance.150 Sitting in the back of a hired car, Sting records the scene around him
148
“Desert Rose” reached #4 on the Italian Billboard charts, #7 in Germany, #2 in
Canada, and #6 in France.
149
Sting won two Grammys for Brand New Day, “Best Pop Vocal Album” and “Best
Male Pop Vocal Performance” in 2000 and he and Mami performed “Desert Rose” at the
televised Grammy Awards as well as a 2001 Super Bowl pre-game performance.
150
Produced by A& M Records, the video for “Desert Rose” has 65 million views on
Youtube as of this writing.
95
with a handheld video camera. Meanwhile, Mami sings in the midst of an attractive
Eastern percussionist, and two DJs on a turntable. When Sting appears at the club, the
two singers perform side-by-side before a captivated audience. This scene is interspersed
with brief clips of a couple kissing passionately and the writhing bodies of club dancers
[include stills]. Both visually and musically, “Desert Rose” conveys the message that
Algerian rai is hip and glamorous and a music that Sting himself enjoys. The lyrics
describe the “rare perfume” and the “secret promise” of the desert rose, obviously a
reference to an exoticized Arab woman. In the Arabic improvisation section, Mami sings
about longing for his beloved, and while Sting and Mami both share the spotlight in the
video, it is the Arab female body that is the focal point of the song.
“Desert Rose” enjoyed so much success partially because of its appearance after
the decade-long world music craze of the 1990s, which began in the late-1980s, and
initially consisted mostly of music from West and East Africa. As the introductory liner
notes for a 2001 Putumayo World Music album titled Arabic Groove pointed out, “In the
U.S., the Middle Eastern music trend is still simmering under the surface, waiting to burst
through. The participation of rai singer Cheb Mami...[is a] sign that the melodies of
Arabic music are finding the American public’s ear.”151 In Europe, however, and the
colonial metropole of France in particular, North African music had already been widely
popularized.
The world music trend of the previous two decades propelled Cheb Mami to
stardom under Sting’s name, allowing him to reach a level of fame in the U.S. that was
151
Arabic Groove, Putumayo World Music PUT189-2, 2001.
96
previously unattainable for artists from the Arab world. Cheb Mami’s relative success
with “Desert Rose” rasises questions about what it meant for artists from the Middle East
and North Africa to gain prestige in the U.S. under the heading of “world music,” and
what role sounds themselves have played in launching these artists to stardom. Over the
course of the 1990s, as world music became a legitimate genre, the attention that artists
and albums received were dependent both on a fascination with difference, as with the
postwar genre of exotica, and a cultural and political identification with the Global South.
Through discussions of the liner notes, album art, critical commentary, and
reviews of Putumayos’s Arabic Groove, this chapter explores the reception of North
African rai and Middle Eastern “fusion” music in U.S. I argue that American responses to
this album and its featured artists illuminate a pre- and post-9/11 audiopolitics that
promoted identification with Arab culture from a safe distance. Building upon Jayna
Brown’s concept of music as an “oceanic” and timeless force of unity, in this sonic
configuration, the listener/consumer relates to the suffering of the other across cultural
and geographic barriers and in turn gains tolerance and enlightenment.152 Consuming
music from the Arab world presents the presumably white middle class American listener
with the opportunity to perform compassion and what Melani McAlister has called
“presumptive affiliation.”153 Combining ideology and genuine feeling, this world music
listening audience constitutes an intimate public founded on the utopian belief that music
152
Jayna Brown, “Buzz and Rumble: Global Music and Utopian Impulse,” Social Text,
28 (1), 2010, p. 125-146.
153
This phenomenon is reminiscent of what Melani McAlister has called “enchanted
internationalism” in Evangelical Christian rock music, an interest in fostering feelings of
connection to impoverished populations in the Global South. See “What is your heart
for?: Affect and Internationalism in the Evangelical Public Sphere,” American Literary
History, Vol 20 (4), Winter 2008: 870-895.
97
can act as a cultural “bridge builder” that transcends material realities to foster peace and
global understanding.
The logic embedded in this configuration can be linked to the politics of liberal
tolerance and moral superiority as s/he might through the consumption of “fair trade”
Arabic Groove advocates a narrative suggesting that tensions and misunderstandings can
be repaired through music and mutual appreciation can be reached through sympathetic
listening. Moreover, the Western consumer’s appreciation of sounds from the Arab world
contention that global musical appreciation leads to affinities that can dismantle
in world music have rested on the premise that the white Western listener produces social
change through cultural acceptance and a willingness to engage with the other.154
Record labels’ world music marketing strategies contrast starkly with Sun Ra’s
work as “universal.” As an artist and owner of his own record label, Sun Ra’s primary
motivation was broad social change, not financial success. Ra’s grassroots approach to
industry approach. While Sun Ra was interested in music as global or galactic, and
constantly introduced sounds he hoped would open the minds of his listeners, his
154
For more on the logic of middle class sympathy and compassion, see Carolyn
Betensky, “Princes as Paupers: Pleasure and the Imagination of Powerlessness” Cultural
Critique, Vol 56, 2003: 129-157.
98
operation outside of the music industry illuminates the impact of commodification on
other cultural products as a whole. Furthermore, while Sun Ra’s use of non-Western
instruments and his symbolic sampling of Arabic music came out of a desire to expand
the scope of African American imagination, the genre of world music was created with
the intention of packaging and selling music from the Global South.
The attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the crash of flight 81 in
the “Middle East,” with a melodramatic narrative about good overcoming evil becoming
the primary framework for geopolitics or “moral geography” under George W. Bush’s
war on terror.155 The collective sonic imaginary surrounding the Arab world shifted
during this moment as well, and anti-Arab racism in popular music increased
considerably.156 However, the events of September 11 did not always produce distancing,
as one might expect, and in some cases the politics of affiliation and bridge building were
desire to better understand and connect with Arab culture.157 For the liberal consumer,
radicalism after 9/11 made her/him that much more ethical or even "edgy."
Arabic Groove, which included tracks from rai artists Cheb Mami and Khaled, as
well as Natacha Atlas, provides a compelling window into American middle class sonic
155
See Melani McAlister, Epic Encounters and Libby Anker, Orgies of Feeling:
Melodrama and the Politics of Feeling, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2014.
156
Sting had planned a US tour called “Desert Roses and Arabian Rhythms” featuring
musicians from Eygpt, Algeria, and Iran, scheduled to begin on September 14, 2001.
Following 9/11, Sting’s representatives cancelled the tour.
157
According to Jacob Edgar, previous head of music research and VP of product
development, Putumayo deemed its target audience to be the “cultural creative”
demographic.
99
identifications with the Arab both before and after 9/11. The album’s success illustrates
the appeal of world music in general as well as many Americans’ desire to become more
aware and educated about Arab culture in the wake of the deaths of over 3,000 people on
September 11, 2001. Arabic Groove harnessed the previous appreciation of rai and fusion
among world music listeners, amplifying an impulse to identify and generate mutual
hit shelves just prior to September 11 2001, and the attacks on the World Trade Center
One employee describes it as an “intense and sad time for everyone.”158 The label’s
offices closed for several days, and when the staff returned to work, they largely assumed
that Arabic Groove would be a flop due to the timing of the release.
With public rhetoric swirling around the dangers of fundamentalist Islam and
Arab culture leading up to the war on terror, Putumayo officials believed their album of
catchy pop songs from North Africa and the Middle East would be ignored, if not openly
criticized. Contrary to the Putumayo team’s fears, Arabic Groove became one of the best-
selling records in the label’s history, and is still considered one of its most popular
albums. According to Jacob Edgar, Putumayo’s former head of music research and vice
president of product development, the reason for this is that the American public was
looking for “good news” immediately following the trauma of 9/11 and people sought
opportunities to connect with Arab culture in positive ways. In an effort to boost the
album’s sales, Edgar handed out copies of Arabic Groove in cafes and restaurants in the
158
Jacob Edgar (former head of music research and VP of product development,
Putumayo) in discussion with the author, November 7, 2013.
100
“tastemaking” Manhattan neighborhoods of SOHO and the East Village, and he attributes
this effort, along with its release during the 9/11 moment, to the album’s success.
Putumayo was founded by Dan Storper in 1975 as an imported clothing and crafts
boutique in New York City, and expanded into a record label in 1993. The label quickly
became known for its world music compilations, which were sold in Starbucks Stores in
the late-1990s. Popular Putumayo compilations include Music from the Coffee Lands
(1997), Reggae Around the World (1999), Zydeco (2000), French Cafe (2003), and
Acoustic Africa (2006). The company also offers a series of children’s albums. Through
its tagline, Putumayo proclaims to “Celebrate the World!” and the company’s motto
assures consumers that its products are “guaranteed to make you feel good!” On the
whole, Putumayo prides itself on presenting music from all over the world to American
audiences in unobjectionable ways. Label executives purposely avoid songs with overtly
religious or political lyrics that might offend listeners or lead them to feel the music is
“not for them”; the label’s main goal is to create an approachable listening experience for
consumers from diverse backgrounds who may or may not consider themselves religious
or politically active.
informed. The introductory notes for Arabic Groove emphasize the “modern” sounds that
From the trendy bars of Barbes, the bustling neighborhood of Paris populated by
immigrants from North and West Africa, to the cosmopolitan nightclubs of Cairo,
Arab music is experiencing a transformation. Rooted in centuries-old musical
traditions that are governed by long-established structures and instrumentation,
the popular music of the Arab world has recently found inspiration and influence
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in the contemporary urban pop music of the West.159
This description informs consumers that they are on the cutting edge of a new
phenomenon, a meeting of ancient and modern traditions. According to Edgar, the 2001
Arabic Groove album represented a dramatic departure from the company’s typical
Groove as a fun, pop-based album full of dance tracks from the North Africa and the
Middle East. With this release, the label hoped to reach a younger segment of their
“cultural creative” audience, a group Edgar describes as “open-minded people” who are
“globally aware, interested in the world, maybe more educated in that sense, interested in
arts.”161 The middle class status of Putumayo’s target audience is evident from this
maximize sales while also remaining “politically correct” during the mid-1990s cultural
It is worth mentioning that for U.S. audiences, public associations with the
Middle East in the 1980s and 1990s included the Iran Hostage Crisis and the 1991
Operation Desert Storm, which significantly affected public responses to the region. One
consequence of U.S. military involvement in the Middle East and Iran came in the form
significant racism from the 1960s onward. Over the course of the 1970s and 1980s, “U.S.
political, military, and economic expansion in the region paralleled a rise in the
159
Jacob Edgar, Arabic Groove liner notes, PUTI89-2, Putumayo World Music, 2001.
160
Edgar, discussion.
161
Ibid
102
Arabs and Arab Americans.”162 Several government agencies during this period began
carrying out surveillance of Arab Americans, and the 1987 case of the LA 8 exemplified
the fear surrounding threats of terrorism.163 While the atmosphere of intimidation and
anti-Arab racism during this time period did impact American public views on the
Middle East, these attitudes clashed with liberal multicultural ideals of open-mindedness.
World music listening audiences were already oriented toward this model of tolerance
and appreciation, and thus rather than participating in discrimination, many sought to
From its inception, purveyors of “world music” have struggled to define the genre
as well as its objective audience. It was in a meeting in London on June 29, 1987, that a
group of U.K. record label executives officially decided to create a new musical genre
called world music. The meeting had been called because the labels were frustrated that
music distributors and stores didn’t know where to stock the diverse styles of music they
were putting out, and were therefore less likely to sell their albums.164 The executives
represented companies including Ace Records, Crammed Discs, Oval, Rogue Records,
and Triple Earth, mainly offbeat independent labels hoping to gain a larger following.
Ben Mandelson, founding member of the popular U.K. world music ensemble 3
162
Nadine Naber, “Introduction,” In Naber and Amaney Jamal, eds, Race and Arab
Americans Before and After 9/11, p. 34.
163
The LA 8 were a group of individuals, seven Palestinians and one Kenyan, charged
with distributing literature for the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and
threatened with deportation in 1987. The case was dropped in 2007.
164
“Minutes of Meeting Behind the Various ‘World Music’ Record Companies and
Interested Parties, June 29, 1987,” fRoots, accessed 1 December 2015,
http://www.frootsmag.com/content/features/world_music_history/minutes/page03.html.
103
Mustaphas 3, was also present.165 Among the alternatives to “world music” they
discussed were “world beat,” “hot beat,” and “tropical beat.” Compared to these options,
they determined “world music” to be most broad, permitting room for an unlimited range
Though a relatively recent genre, the concept of world music developed along
acknowledging and classifying music existing outside the confines of Western art music.
seriously as subjects of inquiry and to educate about the role of music in culture in a
range of settings. The term “world music,” therefore, can be thought of as the vernacular
all popular musics not under the European classical umbrella. Beginning in the 1960s,
some record labels had created international departments for marketing purposes.166
Taken literally, the title is the most inclusive—and likely the most contentious—
165
Though the group members used Arab names and claimed to be from the Balkans,
they in fact originated from the UK. Their music exhibits Middle Eastern, Mediterranean,
Irish, and Latin American influences.
166
The split in the academy between musicology, which has traditionally been
understood as the academic study of classical or Western Art Music, and
ethnomusicology, the study of non-Western musics, has caused much tension and unease
among scholars. One of the main consequences of this is that ethnomusicologists
perpetually question the place of their discipline in relation to musicology as a whole.
According to Steven Feld, “In those days [the early 60s], nostalgically remembered by
many for their innocence and optimism, the phrase world music had a clear populist ring.
It was a less cumbersome alternative to ethnomusicology, the more strikingly academic
term that emerged in the mid-1950s to refer to the study of non-Western musics and
musics of ethnic minorities.”
104
location, or political background. In reality, as consumers eventually came to understand,
record label executives intended the title “world music” to be code for largely indigenous
music of the Global South. As Steven Feld points out, the genre could just have easily
been called “third world music,” as insiders in the music industry had occasionally called
it before the invention of the new term. The necessity of a meeting to develop new
language indicates that many labels, at least in the U.K., were already distributing music
that would eventually be marketed in the “world” category. As a press release sent to
distributors assured them, “This means that you no longer have to worry about where to
put those new Yemenite pop, Bulgarian choir, Zairean soukous or Gambian kora
records.”167 The “world music” title was therefore conceived for the efficient marketing
of “non-Western” or “ethnic” musics. After settling on a name for the genre, the label
executives developed a world music chart, a compilation promo cassette, and hired a joint
The strategy of offering a new marketing genre was enormously successful, and
US and UK distributors and retailers quickly adopted the world music grouping. World
music provided an “other” category for albums that would not fit into the major genre
headings, e.g. pop, rock, jazz, R&B, and classical. By 1992, a Grammy Award was
awarded to artists in world music, and a world music Billboard chart had been created,
signaling the genre’s official status in the music industry. A highly mobile and
transnational phenomenon, the genre was initially conceived in the U.K. and eventually
migrated to the U.S. and Europe. It is important to acknowledge the difference between
the reception of world music genres in the U.S. as opposed to other contexts. World
167
“Press Release 01 - World Music,” fRoots, undated, accessed 1 Dec 2015,
http://www.frootsmag.com/content/features/world_music_history/minutes/page04.html.
105
music in Europe and the United Kingdom has always been connected to postcolonial
politics, with indigenous popular musics gaining popularity in colonial metropoles, such
as bhangra and Indian popular music in the U.K. and Algerian rai in France. Whereas in
the U.S., rai has appealed to white audiences for its sonic otherness, in France it appeals
By way of world music history in the U.S. and the U.K., it is worthwhile to
briefly discuss the WOMAD (Worlds of Music and Dance) festival of the 1980s and 90s.
A prelude to the official industry adoption of the term “world music,” the festival was
founded in 1980 by Peter Gabriel. In part, the event represented an attempt by Gabriel to
bring unknown “ethnic” artists into public view and as well as to incorporate vendors and
sell tickets to world music fans interested in a “global experience.” The first WOMAD
Festival was held in Shepton Mallet, U.K. in July 1982. According to WOMAD’s
website, “the crowds came in their droves and encountered a feat of extraordinary
musicians and artists, workshops for all. Don Cherry, Simple Minds, Imrat Khan, The
Drummers of Burundi, Echo and the Bunnymen and Peter Gabriel (to name but a few).”
WOMAD first came to the U.S. in the summer of the 1993, in the form of a 10-city tour,
and reviews were less positive. The New York Times’ Jon Pareles commented, “Mr.
Gabriel is a genuine fan of world music who founded both Womad [sic] and Real World
Records. But despite his better impulses, his band subsumes exotic elements into stoic
Rolling Stone critic David Herndon called WOMAD “a new world party,” but
bemoaned the focus on Peter Gabriel and special guest Sinead O’Connor, which took
168
Jon Parales, “Review/Pop; World of World Music, US Division,” New York Times,
Sept 8, 1993.
106
away from the lesser-known international artists. He also described the festival as
Herndon, the finale featuring the Drummers of Burundi after Peter Gabriel’s encore was
the only point where WOMAD “delivered on the promise of something truly different
and thrilling.”169 These critics’ reactions were concerned with fact that the festival lacked
significant interest in world music within a certain demographic, indicates Peter Gabriel’s
lack of credibility among U.S. audiences as well as a gap between UK and American
audience expectations regarding authenticity and performance. Though the festival never
Europe and in Australia and New Zealand signals the merging of the festival
The question of authenticity has always haunted both ethnomusicology and world
music, since both categories are based on the assumption that there are ways to discern
the authentic musics of various cultures. Listening to the world’s music in its most
“authentic” form was part of what made the world music genre appealing, and some
critics have denounced the incorporation of familiar Western sounds. On the other hand,
the so-called “fusion” of various sounds and techniques considered “danceable” was part
of what made world music so appealing. As Paul Gilroy argues, “Authenticity enhances
the appeal of selected cultural commodities and has become an important element in the
169
David Herndon, “A New World Party,” Rolling Stone, October 28, 1993, p 24.
107
mechanism of the mode of racialization necessary to making non-European and non-
American musics acceptable items in an expanded pop market.”170 Since the “world
music” label can be attached to any artist deemed unfit for standard industry categories, it
The term “world music” itself has been the source of persistent controversy
among scholars, musicians, and listeners, with David Byrne famously titling a 1999
essay, “I hate world music.” Despite his own participation in the genre, Byrne argues that
the category of world music alienates listeners from artists by creating a geographic
binary of West and non-West.171 Byrne contends that if listeners would take non-Western
artists seriously and not “ghettoize” them under the world music umbrella, they would
start to genuinely identify with apparently distant cultures. He suggests that the world
Without it, privileged audiences might outgrow their ethnocentrism and overcome
systemic power relationships to foster more authentic encounters. While Byrne does not
explicitly criticize the music industry, he ultimately suggests that the packaging of global
artists in world music is what leads to greater distances between listeners and performers.
Those that have criticized world music tend to find a common thread in its
origins, a culture industry where the market acts as a dehumanizing force that divides
consumer from producer. Along the lines of Adorno’s conceptualization of the mass
culture industry, Feld and other scholars have maintained that the world music industry
170
Paul Gilroy, The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Press, 1995, p. 99.
171
Byrne owns a world music record label, Luaka Bop, founded in 1988, and he recorded
a Latin-themed album, Rei Momo featuring the renowned artists Milton Cardona, Willie
Colón, and Celia Cruz, in 1989.
108
produces a permanent sameness in which the non-Western other is commodified and
listeners are divided from their listening subjects across a constructed chasm of
exoticism. Jocelyne Guilbault asserts that the marketing of world music demonstrates the
others makes them all sound the same. Feld has argued, moreover that there are dual
associations with the genre: “...today’s world music, like globalization discourse more
generally, is equally routed through the public sphere via tropes of anxiety and
in a desire to applaud the diversity of musical sounds and the increased access to these
sounds most people have experienced along with technological innovation and the
production has its own complex set of circumstances that contribute to its development.
cultural difference and is also closely tied to expectations surrounding class and taste.
among middle and upper-class consumers, world music carries an association with
educated worldliness that heightens its appeal. For Americans in the era of the culture
wars of the 1990s, the ability to demonstrate musical knowledge about Africa or Latin
172
Steven Feld, “A Sweet Lullaby for World Music,” Public Culture, Vol 12 (1), Winter
2000: p. 151.
109
cosmopolitanism as well as her political commitment to racial equality. Beyond this
though, listeners have always taken pleasure in the sounds themselves, not solely their
The 1980s and 90s were a heyday for world music, coinciding with a fascination
with globalization and its cultural markers. Thinkers such as Frederic Jameson and
Marshall McLuhan have discussed the intensification of the effects of globalization since
the 1960s, along with postmodernism.173 Jameson contends in Postmodernism or, the
Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism that the postmodern moment is marked by the
fragmentation of the subject and the rise of cultural pastiche. Furthermore, in late
capitalism, cultural forms such as art, music, and architecture are increasingly
commodified and recycled. McLuhan claimed that this configuration would transform
social and political identities due to greater interconnectedness, a concept that resonated
Theorists of globalization and its related political economic shifts have traced
several narratives surrounding the concept of the local versus the global. In its
development, world music can be conceptualized of as a case study in the larger process
include:
173
Media scholar Marshall McLuhan coined the term “global village” in the 1960s to
refer to the instantaneous transfer of information through electronic media.
174
In “On Redefining the ‘Local’ Through World Music,” Jocelyne Guilbault claims that
the decentralization and fragmentation of the music industry in the 1970s and 1980s led
to the fear that dominant genres could lose their pre-eminence: “The tendency to equate
dominant cultures with global culture because they have become the common
denominator in many spheres of activity is being reviewed in light of the fragmentation
of many markets, including that of music.” World music has made ‘local’ cultures more
aware of their position in the global economy, producing fears among some observers
110
…the breakup of the communist bloc; the resurgence of many ethnic groups; the
realignment of various communities and the formation of new alliances;
increasing problems of multiculturality and polyethnicity; the consolidation of the
global media system; and the reconfiguration of the world economic order with a
more fluid international system...175
All of these elements are significant to understanding the context in which world music
emerged. With the “reconfiguration of the world economic order” Guilbault refers to a
but this does not mean they are unaware of the power relationships they are participating
in. As Jayna Brown insightfully contends, the utopian impulses of what she terms “world
beat liberalism” tend to overshadow the material realities of these power differences,
about the possibility of cultural “grey-out.” Guilbault views the appropriation of the term
“world music” in 1987 by British industry leaders as an effort to gain control over
markets outside of Anglo-American purview.174 By incorporating “global” elements into
their music, artists in the 1980s and 90s operated both inside and outside of the “center”
vs. “periphery” model, meaning that the system operated based on polylateral markets,
and local musicians gain success horizontally rather than vertically. Here, individual
artists in the world music realm gain success first by getting recognized by members of
their own communities; it is only after they win popularity in local markets that they are
able to move on to larger global audiences. For example, a French Caribbean soukous
singer will need the support of her own community before crossing over to a wider
audience.
175
Guilbault, “Redefining the ‘Local,’” p. 139
176
Harvey contends, one element of the persist economic changes have been “the
universal tendency to increase social inequality and to expose the least fortunate elements
in any society...to the chill winds of austerity and the dull fate of increasing
marginalization.”176 Thus, neoliberalism is a broad and powerful system that has had a
major impact on countries outside the U.S. and Europe by requiring them to follow
certain patterns of development that are not actually economically beneficial to them. For
the world music industry, neoliberalism has meant that the musicians on the ground in the
“developing world” didn’t necessarily reap the greatest benefits from its the music’s
production. Instead, it is most often the record label executives who receive the legal and
financial rights to the sounds they distribute.176 It was power differences between
musicians and label owners that helped make the world music genre financially lucrative.
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however.177 Putumayo intentionally frames its products as guaranteed to make listeners
“feel good.” The prioritization of “feeling good” reveals the world music focus on
Western consumer pleasure and positivity that is the result of a racialized global
economy. According to Keith Negus, “World music travels an ambiguous route, between
the mythical search for authentic redemption and a quest for purity, and a type of
reflexive post-exotic listening which is aware of the territorializing strategies of the music
industry, media and the way in which the musical identity has been constructed.”178
Negus indicates that world music audiences may be conscious of the territorializing
strategies they are buying into, and this changes the meaning of the transaction. If
audiences are purposefully contributing to the commercial success of world music, this
means they are actually taking pleasure in the construction of the sonic other. In a “post-
exotic” formulation, consumers reflexively identify with the othering process. Negus’
notion of “reflexive post-exotic listening” implies a link to the sonic imaginary, where
listeners are grappling with their sensory perceptions of the sounds they are hearing.
innumerable cultures to make them equally palatable to Western audiences, there have
always been modes of distinction. For instance, Africa and the Caribbean were originally
the focus of most world music labels, and according critic Robert Christgau, “World
music is a term that is only going to exist in the metropolitan centers, among people who
conceive of themselves as being in the center of the world. Ten years ago, when those
people sat down to make up this category, what they were thinking about for the most
177
Brown, “Buzz and Rumble”
178
Keith Negus, Music Genres and Corporate Cultures, New York: Routledge, 1999, p.
156
112
part was the music of Africa and the African diaspora--the Caribbean especially.”179 In
contrast to the generic Western imaginary regarding Africa and the Caribbean, the
Middle East and North Africa have long been perceived as sites of conflict, and even
before 9/11, music from these regions was interpreted against a backdrop of violence.
One of the few scholars to write about this topic, Ted Swedenburg, argues that
anti-Arab and anti-Muslim sentiment were the main obstacles to Arab music becoming a
major force in world music before 9/11. Linking this “special antipathy” toward the Arab
world in the U.S. to the broader discourse of orientalism, Swedenburg contends that in
addition to the strength of sympathy for Israel, “generalized public ignorance” tends to
“make it quite difficult for any overtly politicized Arab music to gain acceptance via the
U.S. world music market.”180 Non-Arab music associated with political movements,
including Thomas Mapfumo from Zimbabwe and Fela Kuti from Nigeria, were much
more readily adopted in the U.S., suggesting that the common route by which many
“world music” musicians become successful was not open to Arab artists.
While this is largely true, it does not take into account the demographics of the
world music audience, largely white middle class “cultural creatives,” who are inclined
toward developing identificatory connections via sound and music. This, along with the
and affiliation rather than alienation, has meant that many Americans have been more
interested in potential connections with the Middle East than with differences.181
179
Robert Christgau, “What is World Music?” The Village Voice, July 29, 1997.
180
Ted Swedenburg, “The ‘Arab Wave’ in World Music after 9/11,” Anthropoligica, Vol
46 (2): 2004, p. 17
181
McAlister’s concept of post-war “benevolent supremacy,” which she describes in
relation to film, is in many ways applicable to other cultural products, including music.
113
Secondly, while it is true that artists who explicitly declare support for Palestinians
largely have not been successful in the world music scene, there are less explicit ways
that Arab music has remained politicized. Even before 9/11, “fusion” artists such as Ofra
Haza and Natacha Atlas opened up American public consideration of peacemaking in the
democratizing capabilities.
Hearing Arabness
fusion tracks, demonstrates the affective power of these styles. In the post-9/11
atmosphere of fear and the military action in Iraq and Afghanistan, the album served to
build collective sympathy and solidarity with an imagined Middle East. As with the
continued popularity of Sting’s song “Desert Rose,” listening to these sounds gave an
expanding world music audience a window into a culture they knew little about aside
from what they heard on the news. Edgar’s description of Putumayo’s audience matches
the world music listening audience overall, a politically liberal, middle to upper class,
highly educated demographic. Putumayo executives apparently debated over what to call
the album. Possibilities included “Middle Eastern Groove,” “Arab Groove,” and
“Arabian Groove.”182 “Middle East” and “Arabia” didn’t accurately describe the album’s
geographic placement because most of the tracks originated in North Africa, and the label
ultimately decided on “Arabic Groove,” the term describing the language rather than the
182
The title “Oriental Groove” was ruled out due to its “colonialist terminology,” which
Edgar and other Putumayo executives believed to be too loaded.
114
cultural group, since the executives “thought it would resonate better with audiences than
‘Arab Groove.’”183
Edgar contends that as head of research and development for Putumayo, he had
always long been interested in music from North Africa and the Middle East because of
its potential for widespread appeal. Putumayo released their first Arab music compilation,
Cairo to Casablanca, as part of the “Odyssey” series in 1998. The company’s president,
Dan Storper, wrote in the liner notes, “Initially, I found [Arabic music] somewhat
inaccessible both sonically and from an availability standpoint. It wasn’t ‘World Music
101’ but generally required more developed ears. Well, over the past 5 years, I’ve really
come to appreciate great Arabic music.”184 Here Storper signals to American “cultural
creative” audiences that although it may be unfamiliar and even “difficult” due to its
microtonality, Arabic music can and should be part of the world music canon.
Whereas the cover art for Cairo to Casablanca was folklore-based, made up of
images that would depict a map of the region complete with thatched roofs, pyramids,
and camels, the Arabic Groove cover depicts a man and two women dancing under
pointed arches against a backdrop of intricate mosaic tiles. Regarding this cover art,
Edgar says: “Arabic groove is still in a casbah, but it’s these amorphous figures that could
be hipsters dancing in a club...it could be a hip cafe in Cairo as opposed to a rural village
somewhere else. So there’s a modern aesthetic we’re trying to cultivate while remaining
the album on a hunch that listeners would find it interesting. The “modern aesthetic”
183
Edgar, discussion.
184
Dan Storper, Cairo to Casablanca liner notes, Putumayo World Music PUTU 143-2,
1998.
185
Edgar, discussion.
115
Putumayo intended to showcase on the album constituted the same Western influences
that led to the appeal of both fusion and rai. An Amazon reviewer called the album
“Arabic Bubblegum Dance Groove,” describing the ideal audience as “the dedicated
Rather than attempting to reproduce “traditional” Arabic folk styles as had been
the case on a 1998 album Cairo to Casablanca, Arabic Groove became the first in a
“groove” series pop music records with modern influences. The majority of the tracks on
the album are from Algeria and Morocco, but others include popular singer Amr Diab
from Egypt, Libyan artist Hamid El Shaeri, and Natacha Atlas. In order to choose the
artists he would include on this album, Jacob Edgar spent time in record stores in
immigrant neighborhoods of Paris with large North African populations, and also at
Rachid’s Records in Brooklyn. Paris has long been a major hub of the world music
industry for the Middle East and North Africa and home to the headquarters of EMI
Arabia, which made it unnecessary for Edgar to travel to the countries where the artists
Though rai music dated back to the 1930s, it reached a new level of popularity in
the Algerian capitol of Oran in the 1970s. Rai also gained significant attention in Paris
important site of encounter between North Africa and Europe.187 As George Lipsitz
186
Arabic Groove, “Arabic Bubblegum Dance Groove,” Amazon review of Putumayo
Records, posted by Kevin L Nenstiel “omnivore” (Kearney, Nebraska), August 9, 2002.
187
Postcolonial theorists Robert Young and Arjun Appadurai have pointed to culture, and
more specifically literature and music, as crucial points of departure for exploring power
relationships between Global North and Global South.
116
power and cultural exchange.188 When rai traveled from Western Algeria to Europe to the
U.S., it was interpreted differently based on its context. In France, rai was the music of
the former colony, embraced by North African immigrant populations and others
interested in Algerian culture and music. In the U.S., it was largely viewed as a novel pop
music from a lesser-known North African culture, another step removed from its origins.
Initially in the U.S. rai was marketed as “world beat.” According to a 1998
Washington Post review introducing the first successful rai album in the U.S., Rai
Rebels, “The hot topic in pop music this year is ‘worldbeat music,’ a catchall term for the
world music, the term “world beat” was likely intended to evoke associations with
Nigerian highlife and other African musics known for their rhythmic basis. Unlike its less
precise relative “world music,” “world beat” constructed a genre around the dance beat,
conjuring images of (largely black and brown) bodies in motion. As Steven Feld aptly
maintains, the assumption that these black and brown bodies will naturally produce and
connect to a dance beat is deeply essentialist.190 Describing record label interest in North
Africa, the Rai Rebels reviewer contends, “After extensively mining southern and central
Africa, the companies have turned their attention to northern Africa, where Islamic music
has handed down a distinctive sound with its own scales, drones, and yodels.”191
Reviewing Rai Rebels, the author hones in on the strangeness of the sound: “As the chabs
and chabas (kids or punks and punkettes) drone and yodel the Arabic lyrics about
188
See Lipsitz, Dangerous Crossroads: Popular Music, Postmodernism, and the Poetics
of Place, New York: Verso Books, 1994.
189
Geoffrey Himes, “Listening to the Beat of the World,” The Washington Post,
December 28, 1988
190
Steven Feld, “A Sweet Lullaby for World Music”
191
Himes, “Listening to the Beat of the World”
117
youthful lust and infatuation, the rhythm instruments stick to a repeating hypnotic pattern,
while the lead instruments stretch droning notes into quarter tones and then make
The description of rai as a youth-based music fostered the perception that it was
hip and fresh, an association that Sting further promoted with “Desert Rose.” Regarding
the success of the album the reviewer argues, “it’s a fascinating, strange music, but it’s
even less likely than Nigeria’s juju to make inroads on an American audience.”193.
However, rai did gain recognition among a specific listening audience, and Rai Rebels
provided an introduction for many. The fact that Rai Rebels gained media recognition
among critics in major U.S. cities, whether or not it led to widespread interest in North
African music, suggests that there were points of connection that made rai attractive for
American audiences. One Amazon reviewer exclaims, “Knew nothing of rai but this
made me a convert, so much so that probably any other Rai CD will not be able to match
it. Every song is indeed hypnotic.”194 This reviewer’s description speaks to the affective
realm of world music appreciation. To be “hypnotized” by Rai Rebels, one would be both
Aside from the perception of rai as a dance-based music, a central feature of its
appeal was the music’s perceived anti-authority message. The choice to title the album
Rai Rebels was strategic, framing the artists as iconoclasts. Don Snowden, reviewing the
album for the Los Angeles Times, compared rai musicians to early blues artists:
“Developed by young singers performing in the red- light districts of port cities like
192
Himes, “Listening to the Beat of the World”
193
Ibid
194
Rai Rebels, Virgin Records, Amazon review, anonymous, March 21, 2000.
118
Oran, rai mixes traditional Algerian and Western pop elements and initially drew fire
from religious authorities for secular lyrics dealing with sex, alcohol, and cars--which
makes rai sound like nothin’ but the blues (or Chuck Berry), Algerian division.”195
Drawing a parallel between Chuck Berry and rai artists makes the music accessible to
listeners, as what could be more American than sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll? Connecting
the artists with illicit activity also made the album more intriguing, fueling curiosity
Rick Kogan, quoting Chris Heim in the Chicago Tribune, “‘In a way [Rai Rebels]
parallels the birth of rock and roll. This group is frowned upon as lowlites and hedonists,
playing music about sex and drugs and…’—the urge to hear it is irresistible.”196
unlawful status. Cheb Khaled’s status as an exile in Paris and the murder of several rai
musicians and producers was a popular topic for discussion in newspaper articles in the
audiences, then, rai was marketed as a highly politicized genre. In a New York Times
profile written in 1995, Cheb Khaled was portrayed as a passionate artist condemned to
death for “the offenses of poetry, music and morality.” Describing the history of the
genre of rai, the author compares Khaled’s use of electric guitar at a festival in 1985 to
Bob Dylan’s 1965 performance at the Newport Folk Festival, and contends, “[Khaled’s]
195
Don Snowden, “Pop With the Sounds of Islam,” Los Angeles Times, December 18,
1988.
196
Rick Kogan, “Playing the rock from hard places,” Chicago Tribune, February 22,
1989.
119
concerts can be so charged that Algerian women, flouting their society’s conservative
mores, sometimes throw their bras onstage as if they were at a Tom Jones concert.”197
Direct comparisons, between formative moments in American rock ‘n’ roll and
rai music familiarized it for newspaper readers, and the image of Algerian women
throwing their bras onstage suggests that the music has a radicalizing, Westernizing
influence. The murders of two major figures in rai, singer Cheb Hasni and producer
Rashid Baba Ahmed, made the news in the U.S. in the mid-1990s. The singer and
producer were both shot and killed by the Algerian regime in a crackdown on artists and
intellectuals. Washington Post author Nora Boustany reported from Oran, which she
deems the “Nashville” of the Algerian music scene. She quotes Cheb Khaled saying,
“What’s happening now is crazy. Young people have to wake up and rebel. Now they
live like rabbits hopping between two fires, the regime and terrorism.”198 In a similarly
alarming quote, a 1997 article about Cheb Khaled claims, “Last year, Khaled sold more
than 300,000 albums...But the 37-year- old Khaled hasn’t been back to North Africa in 10
years. He lives in Paris under heavy guard--the target of death threats from Islamic
fundamentalists, who call rai ‘the devil’s music.’”199 Thus, the mainstream U.S. media
Islamic religious politics. Discussions of death threats and terrorism made Algerian
society appear both intriguing and dangerous, and at the same time, critics and journalists
197
Neil Strauss, “Singing of a Beloved Homeland, Fearful of Going Home Again,” New
York Times, April 30, 1995.
198
Nora Boustany, “For Rai, There’s No Oasis in Algeria,” The Washington Post, July 2,
1995.
199
“The King of Rai Can’t Go Home,” The Washington Post, September 14, 1997.
120
In terms of the sonic dimension of rai’s appeal, one major element was its
incorporation of instruments associated with the West, for example, the electric guitar
and synthesizer. Critics described this incorporation as a kind of a fusion, mixing West
and Middle East to produce Algerian rock. The lyrics are in Arabic, and therefore
inaccessible for non-Arabic speakers. The first Rai Rebels album features eight tracks by
seven different artists, two of them duets. The tracks by Cheb Khaled, “Ya Loualid” and
“Sidi Boumedienne” provide two examples of the integration of Western pop and Arab
electric bass and both real and synthesized percussion. The rhythm is syncopated and
danceable, and the mix is percussion-dominant. With a simple and catchy melody,
Khaled and Chaba Zahouania take turns repeating the Arabic lyrics. “Sidi Boumedienne”
the accompaniment is fully synthesized, complete with what reviewer Don Snowden
These Western, modern elements were also visible in a genre that could be
envisioned as Middle Eastern fusion. Two female artists, Ofra Haza and Natacha Atlas,
liberal multicultural ideal. Haza, who died of AIDS in 2000, was the first Israeli artist to
be nominated for a World Music Grammy in 1993 for her album Kirya. Haza previously
gained recognition in the U.S. after Coldcut sampled her song “Im Nin’alu” on a remix of
Eric B. and Rakim’s “Paid in Full.” Haza was raised in a Yemenite Jewish family in Tel
Aviv, and her Mizrahi status helped her cross over to a wider Levantine audience. A first
generation immigrant, she spoke both Hebrew and Arabic and also recorded songs in
English. After winning second place in the Eurovision song contest in 1983, her album
121
Chai became massively popular in Israel and abroad. By 1990, she had begun recording
songs for major Hollywood films, including Colors and Dick Tracy. Haza released her
album Shirei Teiman (Yemenite Songs) in 1984 on the Israeli label Hed Arzi.
The album featured traditional songs Haza had heard in her childhood, sung
mostly in Hebrew, but some are in Arabic or Aramaic. The same album was re-released
in the U.S. in 1988 on the World Music label Shanachie under the title Fifty Gates of
Wisdom. This release pushed Haza into genuine fame, with mainstream American media
reviewing her work. A 1988 Newsweek article proclaimed Haza striking, but placed her
Streisand...with a big, brassy voice who belts out the devotional songs of her ancestal
Yemenite Streisand-crossover paints her as unique because of her hybrid identity. Fifty
Gates of Wisdom was also reviewed in USA Today, where the author called it “the year’s
Haza spent her childhood in poverty as the youngest of nine children to parents
who had been airlifted to Tel Aviv from Yemen in 1949 due to persecution for their
Jewish ethnicity. According to USA Today critic Edna Gundersen, “She is a national icon
in Israel, yet a surprising number of Arabs write fan letters declaring their shared desire
for peace in the Middle East.”202 Haza herself expresses the sentiment that she is a
peacemaker:
I have had many letters from Arab countries and from Egypt, Morocco, Kuwait,
Dubai, places I never thought I would receive letters from. They wrote that they
200
Jim Miller, “Pop Takes a Global Spin,” Newsweek, June 13, 1988.
201
Edna Gundersen, “Ofra Haza, an Israeli Sensation,” USA Today, December 6, 1988
202
Ibid
122
love my music and it’s wonderful that I talk about the Middle East, and they feel
the same thing about my problems. The music is the only thing that nobody can
touch.203
Haza’s image as an intermediary who had overcome great personal adversity made her an
attractive figure for crossover in the world music market. The song “Im Nin ‘Alu” from
this album became one of her biggest hits, with the single selling over a million copies
after it was sampled in Eric B. and Hakim’s 1987 track “Paid in Full.” It includes a
catchy chorus and dance beat, capped off with Haza’s distinctive voice. The lyrics are
based on a 17th-century Hebrew poem by Shalom Shabazi, and they reflect a religious
message about the gates of heaven. The video features close-ups of Haza, wearing a
crown of gold coins, intermixed with shots of her standing near a castle and in a desert.
An Israeli Mizrahi Jew, Haza represented an intriguing mix of East and West for
American audiences. The fact that she had crossed over to an Arab audience provided
203
Adam Sweeting, “Music: The voice of peace – Israeli singer Ofra Haza is shaking off
her casbah-and-camels image. She tells Adam Sweeting how her new album prays for
harmony at home,” The Guardian, March 22, 1990.
123
additional appeal, since this demonstrated her ability to serve as a cultural ambassador.
Her costumes and album covers for “Fifty Gates of Wisdom” all fostered an image of an
ancient desert princess. Multiple reviewers on Amazon refer to her voice as angelic, and
one bemoans her untimely death in 2000. Other reviewers confirm that it wasn’t
necessary for them to understand the lyrics to appreciate Haza’s music. One declares: “I
do wish there were more the melodic lines of traditional Middle East [sic] tonality, but
one cannot have everything.”204 Not surprisingly, Jon Pareles in the New York Times
expressed dislike for Haza’s work with a more Westernized sound, claiming that she
Natacha Atlas, singer in the British pop electronica world music collective
Transglobal Underground during the 1990s, was often compared to Ofra Haza because of
what journalists referred to as her mixed Jewish and Arab heritage. This aspect of Atlas’
popularity is a source of controversy, since in recent years she has made attempts to
distance herself from claims of Jewish ancestry, saying it is exceedingly distant and does
not form part of her identity. In a 2003 interview, Atlas said that someone sought to hurt
her reputation by spreading the rumor that her father was Jewish.205 Critics have accused
her of purposely obscuring the specifics of her origins in order to capitalize on having a
204
Ofra Haza, Fifty Gates of Wisdom, Amazon review by “Nancy T Hernandez,” 2000.
205
Rebecca Huval, “Natacha Atlas Brings Politics to the Dance Floor,” Mother Jones,
Oct 6, 2011.
206
In 2011, Atlas came under fire for canceling an Israeli concert in support of the BDS
(boycott, divest, and solidarity) movement. She received criticism from Israeli fans as
well as BDS supporters, who questioned her decision to boycott Israel in 2011 after
performing there numerous times in the past. She responded to the criticism on her
Facebook page, claiming she found fault with the present Israeli government policies as
well as those of previous regimes. See Ali Abuminah, “International Star Natacha Atlas
124
Atlas was born in Brussels to a British mother and father of Moroccan, Palestinian
and Egyptian descent. She considers herself Muslim, at least nominally, and has referred
to herself as a “human Gaza Strip.”207 Atlas grew up in a Moroccan area of Brussels, and
moved to Northampton, England with her mother when her parents separated. After
performing there as a teenager, she returned to Brussels and performed Arabic music in
nightclubs. She eventually gained the attention of the U.K. world music label Nation
Records, and joined the Transglobal Underground in 1993. Atlas’ solo career began with
the 1995 album Diaspora, and she reached greater visibility in the U.S. with the 1998
album Gedida, which critic Robert Christgau called “a probably shallow and definitely
delightful piece of exotica,” and an Amazon reviewer deemed “100% Arab funk.”208
Atlas’ solo albums were less based on electronica than her Transglobal Underground
work, and intended to present Arabic sounds in a more coherent way. She attracted an
audience intrigued by her ability to fuse styles as well as her status as a Middle Eastern
female vocalist. For example, in 1998 Lilith, a Jewish feminist publication, reviewed her
album Gedida, and in 2001 Ms Magazine reviewed her album Ayeshteni alongside Laurie
European-born woman with Arab roots who owned her own sexuality, and apparently did
not feel beholden to cultural expectations about female decency. An Amazon reviewer
from Minneapolis compared Atlas to Madonna and Enya, suggesting, “If your cup of tea
125
includes world rhytms [sic], new age and the energy of modern music then, listening to
Gedida, you will find yourself immersed in a dream world of playful, tantalizing and
downright [passionate] sounds (no, not literally). Think 50% Ofra Haza + 20% Madonna
+ 20% Enigma + 10% Enya.”209 Atlas wore costumes that emphasized her long, dark
hair, posed provocatively on album covers, and covered James Brown’s 1966 song “It’s a
Man’s Man’s Man’s World” on the album Something Dangerous, her voice indicating a
sarcastic tone. Atlas’ success as a solo artist signified that she could reach fame on her
own terms, and for some American feminists, likely appeared to be an example of
Atlas’ associations with the Transglobal Underground meant that young techno
fans were also exposed to her Arab musical leanings: “As almost the sole purveyor of
Arabic tonalities to U.S. clubgoers and pop audiences, Atlas says she does ‘whatever I
can to represent as many different aspects of Arabic music as possible.’”210 Atlas often
belly danced onstage in performances, and her beautiful appearance likely magnified her
unfamiliar listeners through poppy sounds and a seductive stage presence, Atlas helped
broaden the typical world music audience. While some of her fans were already familiar
with Middle Eastern music, many were new to it. Atlas’ fusion style was appealing to
world music listeners who were interested in “ethnic” with a modern twist. Ted
Swedenburg claims, “Natacha Atlas was one of the major artists pushing Arab music
209
Natacha Atlas, Gedida, Amazon review posted by “Ma WenRui “soukouslover,”:
“Mmmmm, a surreal mix of arabic, new age and euro-dance tunes,” February 28, 2001.
210
Dylan Siegler, “No Borders for Natacha Atlas,” Billboard, May 23, 1998.
126
toward what critics were to call breakthrough time by the summer of 2001. Her May
2001 album Ayeshteni was inventive, eminently danceable, and brilliantly produced.”211
Among critics, Atlas’ multi-ethnic background was often viewed as bestowing her
with a unique ability to cross boundaries, both cultural and musical. As a Billboard
reviewer wrote, “Border crossing comes easily to Natacha Atlas. Her multinational
upbringing, coupled with her musical versatility, has been helping bridge the gap between
breakbeats and belly dancing for a decade.”212 Not only was she viewed as a cultural
boundary crosser, but a musical genre crosser, and someone who could appeal to a range
of audiences, from feminists to techno and hip hop listeners. Some fans were apparently
belly dancers themselves, with numerous Amazon reviewers claiming that the mixture of
Natacha Atlas’ description of herself as a “human Gaza Strip” suggests that she
also politicizes her identity. As one reviewer writes, “It isn’t so much that her borrowing
creative juices gush straight from the wounds of conflict.”213 The idea that Atlas’ creative
origins emanate from the heart of the conflict in the Middle East links her to the Israeli-
Palestinian conflict and encourages the belief that her music symbolizes a force of
healing. The public perception of Atlas as half Jewish was central to her image as a
fusion artist, and by listening to her voice listeners could affectively tap into an imaginary
Middle Eastern unification process and participate in it from afar. This affective
211
Ted Swedenburg, “The ‘Arab Wave’ in World Music after 9/11”
212
Siegler, “No Borders for Natacha Atlas.”
213
Irin Carmon, “The Human Gaza Strip.”
127
relationship allowed for listeners to assert ideals of diversity and tolerance while also
For audiences engaging with Atlas’ work, some of whom had never heard music
from the Arab world, the sounds built upon long-held orientalist assumptions. Among
Amazon reviewers, descriptions of Atlas’ voice as sexy and intoxicating are common,
and many enjoyed thinking about her blended identity. One wrote, “This [album] is
arguably the best showcase for the talents of Natacha Atlas, with its combination of
that enchanting voice. Close your eyes and you can almost smell the air and taste the
mysterious aura of Egyptian culture.”214 These invocations of smell and taste indicate the
reviewer’s desire to experience the music in an embodied, sensual way. S/he takes
pleasure in the “mysterious aura” of the sounds. And rather than connecting Atlas to sites
of conflict, the reviewer seems to assume that she is Egyptian, and that her music can be
heard as an expression of Egyptian culture, certainly a safer association than the Gaza
Strip.
On Atlas’ 1998 album Gedida, her vocals are fluid and seamless and blend with
both traditional Middle Eastern instruments and dance beats, appealing to listeners new to
the genre. Gedida is a trilingual album, featuring lyrics in French, English, and Arabic. In
the song “One Brief Moment,” Atlas sings exclusively in English, appealing to an
English-speaking audience. Her French and Arabic lyrics also signal cosmopolitanism to
an American and European audience. The single from Gedida is a cover of the French
song “Mon Amie La Rose” originally performed by Francoise Hardy in 1964. Atlas’
214
Natacha Atlas, Gedida, “Gedida Grooves,” Amazon review posted by “Wil (AL),”
August 29, 2003.
128
version reached #15 on the French pop charts and #13 in Belgium in 1999. Her version
includes a long improvisatory passage where she incorporates an Arabic scale, giving the
song a “fusion” component, and Atlas’ voice is richer and more operatic than Hardy’s.
The video for this song depicts Atlas singing in a European jazz club, wearing a
form-fitting sequined black dress with gold beads and a sweetheart neckline. The camera
zooms in on band and audience members, several of whom are of black African heritage
and another who appears to be Sikh. Couples dance, and a tall, dark-haired man enters
and locks eyes with Atlas as she sings. The next scene shows her slowly shedding layers
of clothing in the back seat of his car as he drives her home. Popular with a European
audience for its sex appeal and its message of immigrant cultural acceptance, the song
appealed to American audiences for the blending of styles and the glamor associated with
enigmatic mix of influences made her intriguing to audiences seeking “worldliness,” and
her ambiguous associations with the Gaza Strip invited listeners from a range of political
Natacha Atlas participated in the enactment a new multicultural ideal around Arab
world music performance. Her voice reflects multiple categories: European, Belgian,
British, Egyptian, Moroccan, Palestinian Arab, and Jewish. Similar to Ofra Haza, who
was perceived as a peacemaker, Atlas was recognized as a border crosser, and her music
offered an opportunity for American listeners to affectively transcend borders along with
her. Atlas and Haza both allowed American audiences to imagine themselves as literally
or figuratively “close” to an open and tolerant Middle East that welcomed a variety of
ethnicities. The extent to which listeners were allowed to participate in this imaginary
129
Middle East was dependent on their appreciation of the music. And while Atlas’ audience
was somewhat different from Haza’s, in light of her techno and feminist following, the
narratives of peacemaking through fusion that surrounded both Atlas’ and Haza’s music
is similar. Though Atlas was born in Belgium and lived in the U.K., her father’s pan-
Arab ethnicity and possible Jewish ancestry gave her similar credentials in terms of
130
Chapter 4: Counter-orienting the War on Terror: Arab Hip Hop and Global Black
Consciousness
“We are the South,” declares Chilean artist Ana Tijoux in “Somos Sur,” a 2014
track from her album Vengo featuring British Palestinian hip hop artist Shadia Mansour.
Built on a polyrhythmic beat interwoven with Arabic semi-tones, the song is a breathless
brass-driven paean to a revolutionary alliance uniting all who are “silenced, neglected,
invisible.” In Mansour’s verse, she raps: “Music is the mother tongue of the world/ She
supports our existence, she protects our roots/ She joins us from greater Syria to Africa to
Latin America.”215 The video for the track features Tijoux celebrating with a crowd
wearing bright indigenous Andean clothing, along with Mansour, who dances dabke in
bare feet and an embroidered Palestinian dress (fig. 5).216 The two women harness an
215
The YouTube clip for this song has 2,917,754 views as of December 2, 2015.
216
Dabke is a Levantine folk dance performed in lines or circles, and usually with
musical accompaniment, at celebratory occasions.
131
infectious and disruptive energy, affirming cultural and political alliances between Latin
Summoning the powerful “buzz and rumble” Jayna Brown has detailed in relation
to 21st century Congolese and Angolan musics, Tijoux raps, “This is not utopia/ This is a
joyful dancing rebellion.” Brown’s formulation describes sounds that are created in
landscapes of perpetual war and violence: “The buzz and rumble is the sound of the new
space the music creates, the space people create out of necessity for their sanity…[it] is
the power that rides through these circumstances; improvising on the refuse of
destruction, it is both of the moment and transcendent.”217 “Somos Sur” is produced out
Global South at large and to Palestinian struggles for political and social equality more
specifically. This chapter examines the diasporic genre of Arab American hip hop, which
extends beyond Arab American artists, and must be considered transnationally in order to
Reverberations of sonic Arabness in the U.S. are multivalent. I argue that hip hop
provides a vehicle for Arab and Arab American youth to enact a radical counter-narrative
that disrupts the orientalizing “clash of civilizations” discourse, and in this sense,
provides an important occasion for Arab self-determination. Unlike world music and
exotica, genres that target non-Arabs intrigued with unfamiliar cultural forms, Arab hip
hop appeals mostly to Arab and Arab American audiences. For these audiences, the
sounds and words are a means of connecting to a new vision of Arabness, one that is
217
Jayna Brown, “Buzz and Rumble: Global Pop Music and Utopian Impulse,” p. 128.
132
conceptualizing Arab hip hop as a “borderlands” practice allows for a theorization of it as
In 1994, George Lipsitz proposed that hip-hop was an example of a new global
The Black Atlantic that black culture long served as a counterculture to modernity, Lipsitz
argued that the form and beats of hip hop displayed a restless postcolonial energy. And as
Tricia Rose contends, hip hop transformed authorship to fit with the structure of orally
based performance, making knowledge and sound communal creations. Like many forms
of artistic expression, hip hop is concerned with communal memory, a site of common
recognition and identification. For Arab Americans, hip hop provides a means of
race consciousness” in the South Asian context, a recognition of the power relations
embedded in global racial formations that Sharma says “emerges from and illustrates the
multiple geographies and encompassing popular culture. Lubin links hip hop produced in
the Palestinian territories to work produced in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina and
218
Lipsitz, Dangerous Crossroads, p. 36.
219
Nitasha Sharma, Hip Hop Desis: South Asian Americans, Blackness and Global Race
Consciousness, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2010, p. 4.
133
structures of power: “This geographic linkage is not merely a simplistic politics of
ways that make Gaza and the lower ninth ward localized articulations of globalized
colonial modernity.” 220 Arab hip hop points to a unique nexus reflecting the web of
As numerous scholars have indicated, one impact of the 9/11 attacks was to make
Arabs and Muslims increasingly visible in the U.S. public. This reflects a heightened
awareness of Arab Americans’ position in what Nadine Naber has termed a “diaspora of
empire.”221 U.S. military involvement in the Middle East during the first Gulf War in the
1990s signaled a turn toward direct United States intervention in the region that
continued after 9/11 with the war on terror.222 Geographically, the war on terror
“here” and “there,” and “us” vs. “them.” This configuration depends on what Melani
McAlister, drawing from Michael Shapiro, has termed “moral geographies,” a practice of
220
Alex Lubin, “Fear of an Arab Planet: The Sounds and Rhythms of Afro-Arab
Internationalism.” The Journal of Transnational American Studies. Vol 5 (1): 2013, p.
250.
221
See Nadine Naber, Arab America: Gender, Cultural Politics, and Activism. New
York, NY: NYU Press, 2012.
222
Anti-Arab discrimination intensified dramatically following the attacks on September
11. The USA Patriot Act, first passed by congress in October 2001, legalized a range of
governmental activities, including the monitoring of Arab and Muslim groups, searching
and wiretapping without probable cause, trying of “enemy combatants” in military
tribunals, and the indefinite detention of noncitizens suspected of ties to terrorism. At
least 1,000 Muslim men were detained without criminal charges, and a “Special
Registration” system was set up requiring fingerprinting and INS address registration for
men from twenty-four Muslim countries. Of those who complied, 2,870 were detained
and 13,799 were placed in deportation proceedings by 2003. Congress subsequently
renewed the Patriot Act in 2005, 2006, 2010, and 2011, and it has drawn criticism from
civil liberties organizations including the ACLU. The atmosphere of fear sparked by the
government actions significantly impacted Arab and Muslim communities in the U.S.
134
grouping and separating regions or states based on ethical or political views.223 The
sounds and forms of Arab hip hop and spoken word complicate these boundaries,
revealing the falseness of these dichotomies and making apparent the numerous links
between the U.S. and the Arab Middle East. Thus, the artists involved in this movement
insert thoughtful and lyrical notes of dissent into the public discourse about the danger of
Not only do Arab and Arab America hip hop artists challenge the context of
Islamophobia and Arabophobia, but they are entirely restructuring the “clash of
alliances. As Sunaina Maira contends, “This music challenges the context of the
intensified Islamophobia and Arabophobia since 9/11, and also reflects the racial politics
of an Arab American youth subculture that identifies with youth of color and
means to be Arab. In a post-9/11 atmosphere, sounds and words by Arab and Arab
American artists embody the painful contradictions that result from living in a “diaspora
Instead, these artists demand that listeners grapple with what it means to be alienated and
to consider the human dimensions of U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East.
Following the 9/11 attacks, not only were Arabs and Muslims directly targeted for
discrimination, but in some ways they were pushed outside the realm of allowable
223
Melani McAlister, Epic Encounters, p. 4.
224
Sunaina Maira, ’We Ain’t Missing’: Palestinian Hip Hop—A Transnational Youth
Movement.” The New Centenniel Review. Vol 8 (2): Fall 2008, p. 196.
135
speech. As Judith Butler has argued, after 9/11 there were limitations on what was
permissible in the public sphere. Public grief was carefully regulated, and designed to
maintain the “derealizing aims of military violence.”225 Butler points out that there was a
and thoughtful people are advocating and taking actions that are anti-Semitic in their
effect if not their intent.”226 Summers’ distinction between effective and intentional anti-
Semitism created “a chilling effect on political discourse, stoking the fear that to criticize
Israel during this time is to expose oneself to the charge of anti-Semitism.”227 Public
discourse surrounding grieving and loss after 9/11 was also bound up with nationalism
and questions about whether certain lives are more grievable than others.
sympathizer,” both prevalent after 9/11. Not only are these labels undesirable, but they
are heavily stigmatized, carrying nearly “unbearable” weight for those accused.228 It is
not surprising then that media discourse was largely limited to views upholding allowable
ideologies. Steven Salaita writes, “Often accused of dual sympathies, Arab Americans
feel sometimes as if we are removed (of our own accord) from the Arab World, but
225
Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence. New York,
NY: Verso Books, 2004, p. 102.
226
Ibid, p. 102
227
Ibid
228
Ibid, p. 127
136
equally removed (not of our own accord) from the United States.”229 This sense of
desire of young Arabs to narrate their lives and their experiences, and the presence of
Arab American hip-hop demonstrates the possibility for dissent and counter-orientation
in musical spaces.
For emcees Shadia Mansour, Omar Offendum, and The Narcicyst (AKA Narcy),
art and music have offered the possibility of re-inhabiting Arab identity while also
counteracting official state and media rhetoric about the Middle East. Arab hip hop is a
self-consciously diasporic form, engaging with relatives, ancestors, and personal histories
abroad.230 Writing lyrics in both English and Arabic allows artists to speak to multiple
audiences, and the use of sampling, one of the key elements of rap, enables multi-
generational sonic affiliations. Maira contends that hip hop allows Palestinians and
Palestinian Americans to claim subjecthood and to prove that they “’ain’t missin.’”
Beyond this, however, Arab American hip hop reflects a growing dissatisfaction with
government and media discourse along with a desire to be taken seriously as a minority
ethnic group.
As a genre, hip hop has proved highly malleable. From its roots in the South
Bronx, the form has grown and stretched in numerous directions. Hip hop’s roots form a
familiar history, one of technological innovation mixed with social protest. Not only has
229
Steven Salaita, Anti-Arab Racism in the USA: Where it Comes From and What it
Means for Politics Today, Chicago and London: Pluto Press, 2010, p. 81.
230
Arab hip hop is a highly transnational movement, with artists from the Middle East
interacting and collaborating with those abroad. While the majority of the artists I am
discussing are based in the U.S., Shadia Mansour lives in London, and another prominent
emcee, The Narcicyst, AKA Narcy, lives in Canada. Mansour and Narcy signal the ways
that North America and the U.K. are implicated in similar projects of empire.
137
it gained legitimacy, exhibited by the 2014 One Mic festival held at Washington DC’s
Kennedy Center, but it has wide global appeal, reaching to West and South Africa,
Europe, and Japan.231 In the U.S., hip hop has followed a familiar trajectory from margins
to mainstream. Many have decried hip hop’s commercialization, with Nas famously
claiming in 2006, “hip hop is dead.” Debates over misogyny and the de-politicization of
rap have raged for decades, perhaps taking attention away from music that has been less
visible. Due to shifts in the music industry in the past two decades, artists increasingly
produce music independently of labels. As a result, many artists distribute their work and
interact directly with their fans on the Internet. Arab hip-hop provides a window into
these shifts in the industry, which is increasingly dependent on streaming and downloads
rather than material distribution. This new model has allowed Arab hip hop artists to
speak freely about their concerns and develop fan bases that identify with their political
messages, but it also means that the work of these artists does not necessarily reach
mainstream audiences.
globalization, and as Josh Kun points out, “hip hop may indeed be ‘the global youth
culture,’ but its singular globality depends upon multiple localities— its creation,
231
One Mic: Hip-Hop Culture Worldwide, was a 2014 collaboration between the
Kennedy Center in Washington, DC and Hi-ARTS (formerly known as the Hip-Hop
Theater Festival), a New York City organization founded in 2000. One Mic featured
numerous performances celebrating the diversity of the genre. According to the website,
“the festival highlights MCing, DJing, b-boying, and graffiti writing, the original four
elements of hip-hop culture, alongside contemporary interdisciplinary work born of hip-
hop aesthetics.” Participants included Russell Simmons, Eric Michael Dyson, Talib
Kweli, Nas, The Narcicyst, MC Lyte, Jean Grae, and Lauryn Hill.
138
production, and reception within local and translocal sites such as Los Angeles.”232 The
contextual foundations of the genre are key to its accessibility and worldwide popularity.
It is within translocal sites such as Los Angeles, London, and Gaza that Arab hip hop is
created and disseminated, but ultimately, it is in the realm of the internet where much of
The movement that is now identified as Arab hip hop first emerged in the wake of
the events of September 11, 2001. Questions of collective and personal memory are key
intensely personal form of knowledge, one that is predicated on affect and interpretation.
Although it is highly subjective, memory can also rise to the level of collective
consciousness, and groups hold common memories shared through cultural narratives.
Nora suggests that memory is not invested in accuracy, and is instead based on subjective
both individual and collective memories. Sound also forms one of the material lieux de
memoire, or sites of memory, that Nora argues construct the practice of memory.233 There
is a long and distinguished literary tradition in Arab culture, which Arab hip hop artists
often cite as inspiration, in addition to sounds from the mid-20th century golden age of
Arab music.
232
“What Is an MC If He Can't Rap to Banda? Making Music in Nuevo L.A.” American
Quarterly. 56 (3), Sept 2004, p. 743.
233
According to Nora’s 1989 essay “Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de
Mémoire,” sites of memory can be places, objects, images, sounds, or more abstract
concepts that are tied to memory.
139
One of the first artists to become involved in the Arab American hip hop
movement was William Youmans, AKA Iron Sheik, who completed a PhD in
Media and Public Affairs at George Washington University.234 Youmans chose the hip
hop moniker “Iron Sheik” after the WWF wrestler whom he says embodies numerous
stereotypes about Arabs: “Arabs are villains; they are the bad guys to be despised. I
wanted to reclaim the icon and redo it my own way. If this is a battle for knowledge, we
Youmans grew up in the Detroit area, and a visit to his maternal grandparents in
Nazareth when he was in high school sparked his interest in Israeli/Palestinian politics.
The New York Times published a profile of Youmans in 2004 that discussed his message-
based hip-hop, and Youmans’ mother Nadia comments on the intergenerational politics
of hip-hop: “‘This is new music for Arab-Americans; it is hard on the ears of the older
people…I used to have headaches. I said, either you get out of my car or turn it off. But I
like his music, because I love the words.’”236 Mrs. Youmans’ sentiment here indicates
tension between first and second-generation Arab Americans since hip-hop tends to be
perceived as a product of youth rebellion. Will Youmans argues that Arab American hip-
hop is a vital tool for young Arab Americans to negotiate their identities: “With identity
234
I have chosen to focus on the artists who have deemed themselves the leaders of the
Arab American hip-hop movement. As Youmans and Dolan have mentioned, there are
Arab Americans in the hip hop scene who don’t explicitly identify as Arab American
artists, and their music tends to be very different from the politically-charged music of
Omar Offendum and The Narcicyst, the artists I discuss below. See Timothy J. Dolan,
“Iraq is the new Black”: Performing Arabness in Arab American hip-hop, M.A. thesis,
Indiana University, 2014.
235
Danny Hakim, “Drawing a Rap Refrain From a U.N. Resolution: American-Born
‘Iron Sheik’ Rhymes for a Palestinian Cause, New York Times, July 8, 2004.
236
Ibid
140
in flux, the life experience of exile and diaspora fuels Arab American hip-hop. Many
Arab American MCs use hip-hop to relate to a larger community of Americans to make
inroads into an America to which they feel they do not fully belong.”237 Youmans
encourages the community to “nurture and encourage this nascent artistic movement.”238
Youmans also alludes to the inter-generational politics of the movement, arguing that
music encourages Arab and Arab American youth to appreciate their ancestry and assert
an ethnic identity.
Many Arab artists have personally experienced hostility and discrimination due to
their ethnic and/or religious backgrounds. Narcy describes a childhood memory of his
family’s garage door in Montreal being spray painted with the words “retournez chez-
vous animaux” (go back home, animals). He writes, “That moment stayed fresh in mind,
the solid white graffiti would never lose its’ [sic] opacity. Those words meant so much to
me, and I wanted to change the people that did it…I couldn’t help but ask myself, Where
is home? I still don’t have that answer.”239 This formative experience signaled overt
hostility toward Arabs in Montreal, as well as a sense of alienation from other Arab
communities. Narcy eventually became close friends with brothers Nawar and Nawaf Al-
Rufaie, whose family moved to Canada from the United Arab Emirates, and first
introduced him to hip hop. Narcy cites NWA’s albums Straight Outta Compton and The
Wu-tang Clan as crucial to his musical development. Along with Nawar and Nawaf,
237
Will Youmans, “Arab American Hip Hop,” in Holly Arida and Anan Amen eds,
Etching Our Own Image: Voices from within the Arab American Art Movement,
Newcastle, UK: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2007, p. 49
238
Ibid, p. 57
239
Yassin Alsalman, The Diatribes of a Dying Tribe, Write or Wrong/Paranoid Arab Boy
Publishing, Quebec, QC: 2011, p. 60
141
Reflecting the demographics of the second wave of immigrants from the Arab
World, the members of the Arab American hip hop movement generally hail from
middle-class backgrounds and are well-educated. This illustrates the class differences
between Arabs and African Americans, which are similar to the economic gaps between
South Asians and African Americans Sharma describes. Unlike hip hop artists living in
the West Bank and Gaza, Arab American artists are rarely able to claim “street cred” or
direct knowledge of urban violence. The political themes and backgrounds of the artists
From its inception, the global configuration of the movement meant that Arab hip
hop artists primarily relied on the internet as a means of promoting and distributing their
work. During the early-2000s, it was through Myspace and personal websites that emcees
shared their music and connected with other artists. Iron Sheik and N.O.M.A.D.S,
Offendum’s collaboration with Sudanese American rapper Mr. Tibbzs, sold CDs and
merchandise on their personal websites and maintained Myspace pages to connect with
fans. While they were often in different locations, the Internet enabled communication
and collaboration between artists. Narcy first discovered the work of Syrian American
emcee Omar Chakaki, AKA Omar Offendum, in 2002, and they began corresponding
online. The two eventually met in person at a concert in Washington, DC in 2005, and
The rapid growth of social media in the past ten years has facilitated new methods
of self-promotion for the artists without label representation. For Offendum, as well as
The Narcicyst and Shadia Mansour, social media is a primary means of promotion and
240
Omar Chakaki, Twitter message to author, December 2, 2015.
142
distribution. All three maintain active Facebook musician pages with between 20,000-
30,000 followers. They share links and videos, as well as tour dates, and fans can send
messages. YouTube is another major source of visibility and circulation. These three
artists have created videos for some of their most popular songs, which often gain
hundreds of thousands of views. Mansour’s 2011 song “Al Kuffeye Arabiye” ft. M1, for
example, currently has 767,300 YouTube views, and Narcy’s 2009 song “Hamdullilah”
ft. Shadia Mansour currently has 994,330 views.241 The ubiquity of YouTube as a means
of listening and sharing music facilitates a broad transnational audience for Arab hip hop.
Several other key participants in the early scene included Nizar Wattad, AKA
Ragtop, part of a crew called The Philistines, and Tarik Kazaleh, AKA Excentrik. In
early 2005, Offendum and Ragtop, both based in Los Angeles, teamed up to make the
first hip hop compilation dedicated to a free Palestine. They looked for musicians to
contribute, and according to Offendum, "the response was overwhelming. The artists who
contacted us weren't only Arab American, they came from all sorts of backgrounds."242
Wattad is Palestinian American and was raised in rural Tennessee. He started The
Philistines with his younger brother Bader (B-Dub), and MC/producer CJ (Cookie Jar), a
Filipino artist. The artists on Free the P contended that when it comes to the suffering of
Palestinians under the control of the Israeli state, few Americans were aware of the
reality of the situation. Offendum and Ragtop maintained that U.S. media representations
have often ignored Palestinian civilian casualties, instead focusing on Israeli safety
241
“SHADIA MANSOUR Ft M1 (DEAD PREZ)-AL KUFIYYEH 3ARABEYYEH
(OFFICIAL VIDEO),” YouTube video, posted by Shadia Mansour, Sept 1, 2011,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21OXQ4m1-Bo; “The Narcicyst featuring Shadia
Mansour "Hamdulillah" Official Music Video,” YouTube video, posted by Channel
Narcy, Sept 14, 2010, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ISHZQJdeSw.
242
Meghan Askins, “Arabs on the Mic,” Wiretap Magazine, December 20, 2006.
143
concerns, and the two artists intended the project to be a response to mainstream media
discourse.
The resulting album includes tracks from 24 artists, including Latinos, African
Americans, two hip hop crews from Gaza, an Iraqi Canadian, an Israeli American rapper
from Michigan, and a Palestinian American spoken word activist. Iron Sheik contributed
"Neo-Con Luv," a satirical song about George W. Bush’s administration, and Suheir
Hammad performed two poems, the first of which states that anywhere in America, "You
are standing on stolen land." The proceeds for the album went toward the production of
the 2009 documentary film Slingshot Hip Hop about Palestinian hip hop, created by Arab
American filmmaker Jackie Salloum. Slingshot Hip Hop was one of the first full-length
documentary films about Arab hip hop, and it follows numerous artists including the
Arab Israeli crew DAM and several female artists, Arapeyat and Abeer Alzinaty (AKA
Sabreena da Witch).
Aside from focusing on the Israeli/Palestinian crisis, a major theme of the Arab
hip hop movement has been the increasing hostility toward Arabs in the West. According
to Yassin Alsalman, AKA Narcy, 9/11 was the breaking point for young Arabs in North
America who were frustrated with legacies of colonialism and inter-Arab violence as well
studies on identity, Arab culture has been plagued by the constant intervention of outside
forces and misrepresentation through public forms of media.”243 As part of his master’s
degree in media studies, Narcy created an inventive hip hop project called The Arab
243
Alsalman, The Diatribes of a Dying Tribe, p. 38.
144
Summit along with Omar Offendum, Tarik Kazaleh AKA Excentrik, and Nizar Wattad,
AKA Ragtop.
(ADC) was founded in 1980 by an Arab American senator, Jim Abourezk, who was
became concerned about anti-Arab sentiment and biased media representations of Arabs
in the wake of the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. The organization is comprised of legal,
communications, and government affairs teams to help serve the Arab American
community. The ADC seeks to “empower Arab Americans, defend the civil rights of all
people, promote Arab cultural heritage, promote civic participation, encourage a balanced
US policy in the Middle East and support freedom and development in the Arab
world.”244 The 2007 gala included a speech by former president Jimmy Carter, a
presentation by media scholar Jack Shaheen, and a performance by the Axis of Evil
comedy troupe. Alsalman describes the gala as a disillusioning experience for several
reasons.
First, a 17-year-old Iraqi American soldier was invited to sing the national anthem
at the event, which he deemed blatant propaganda: “The entire moment stood still in my
heart; how could we be such pawns? How could we allow them to present a failed war to
the gala attendees through such a young indoctrinated girl?”245 The soldier’s rendition of
the Star Spangled Banner brings to light the ADC’s commitment to a particular
244
ADC website, accessed, Dec 10, 2015, http://www.adc.org/.
245
Alsalman, Diatribes, p. 48.
145
government’s narrative about the war in Iraq as a means of liberating the Iraqi people and
promoting democracy. Featuring a young Iraqi American woman showing her allegiance
for the United States also sends the message that women in particular were grateful for
US intervention.246
Beyond the performance of the national anthem, Alsalman also discovered after
the event was already underway that the FBI was sponsoring it and soliciting new
recruits. He describes being approached by an Arab FBI agent who invited him to join,
who said, “Wse need people like you.” Later the group was given pens and keychains
with the words “The FBI is for you” written in English and Arabic.247 Alsalman felt that
the political meaning of their performance was invalidated by the FBI’s presence at the
The incongruity of the FBI’s presence was heightened when the Arab Summit
members discovered they were under suspicion for activities that had transpired earlier
that day, when they had worn t-shirts emblazoned with the word “terrorist” during a
rooftop video shoot. The group was asked to provide footage from the shoot to explain
their behavior. Alsalman writes, “Returning to Montreal, I realized that I am now one of
246
The US State Department has a long history of using music, and specifically hip-hop,
to nurture positive perceptions of the country abroad. As Penny Von Eschen and others
have documented, jazz was an important tool of diplomacy during the Cold War. More
recently, hip-hop has been used to leverage support during the wars in Iraq and
Afghanistan. The state department launched “Rhythm Road” in 2005, an initiative aimed
at countering “poor perceptions” of the US in Muslim countries in Asia, the Middle East,
and Africa. Next level, an initiative sponsored by the State Department and UNC Chapel
Hill, was launched in 2014 and According to Hisham Aidi, “The tours aim not only to
exhibit the integration of American Muslims, but also, according to planners, to promote
democracy and foster dissent.” (See Aidi, “Leveraging hip hop in US foreign policy,” Al
Jazeera, Nov 7, 2011).
247
Alsalman, Diatribes, p. 54
146
those Arabs in the machine; they know who I am and things will probably get worse.”248
The irony of being asked to join the FBI and also being under inspection by the same
organization illustrates the state’s approach, which has been to employ heavy surveillance
of the Arab and Muslim communities while also attempting to infiltrate Arab/Muslim
The Arab Summit’s album Fear of an Arab Planet explicitly plays on Public
Enemy’s 1993 album Fear of a Black Planet. The album mixes hip-hop tracks and audio
clips from the 1976 Sean Connery film The Next Man, also known as The Arab
Conspiracy. The film takes place during the Arab oil embargo, and Connery plays a
Saudi minister who becomes the target of assassination attempts by Arab terrorist groups
after he proposes to recognize Israel and support Israeli membership in OPEC. The intro
to the album highlight a portion of the film where Connery waxes poetic about olive
branches and freedom fighters in a speech at the U.N.: “I call for a direct dialogue with
Israel so we can create a Palestinian state with men of goodwill at a conference table and
not from the debris of exploded villages and human life…how do you kill a dream? The
In the film, Connery’s character is killed in the final scene by his love interest,
suggesting that Arab moderates are doomed. Remixing audio clips from the film allows
the artists to subvert the original meaning. The initial clip sets the scene for the album
and proposes a new “Arab Summit,” in which various members will come to discuss
pressing global issues, referencing the Arab League’s postwar efforts to create a unified
248
Alsalman, Diatribes, p. 56
249
The Next Man, Directed by Richard Sarafian, (1976; Trinity Entertainment, 2006),
DVD.
147
political entity. According to Omar Offendum, “we strive to actually create a productive
summit of our own from the ground up, where topics we wish could be addressed more
sincerely [than] in the ‘summit industry…’”250 Beyond inaugurating the members as the
leaders of the Arab American hip hop movement, Fear of an Arab Planet advances a
Beyond its use of multimedia clips, the album’s musical samples hold sonic and
political significance. The first vocal track, “We Need Order” samples a 1973 track by
the Chicago soul/ r&b group The Chi-Lites. The lyrics of the original song are directed at
the Vietnam War: “We’re hung up on the knowledge of War/ Something, that most of us
have never seen/ But, how sweet it would be to wake up in the morning/ And find it was
all a dream.” In the context of the Arab Summit song, the “war” the song mentions is the
more recent War on Terror: “The Orient is in Gemorrah and sin as hijacked as our order
has been, denied back like brothers at the border with prints and eye scans, bag heads and
bystanders dragged dead, Flag bent. Assassination assertive, a fascination with murder,
the past erased and unheard of, we trapped in ancient disorder, blasting flames of a
mortar attack that came in the morning, all hard to ignore like the pain of lacking a name
The Chi-Lites sample brings a soul aesthetic to the track, and also draws a parallel
between the black American experience in the 1970s during Vietnam and the Arab
American experience after 9/11. As Alsalman writes, “Many of the songs we chose to
250
Stefan Christoff, “Interview: Arab hip-hop forces unite for justice,” Electronic
Intifada, October 1, 2007.
251
Alsalman, Diatribes, p. 112
148
sample came about at a time when African American artists were asserting their right to
be equal and in search of a common existence amongst [sic] the disparaging conditions of
urban America.”252 Beyond the direct commentary of the lyrics, “we need order,” the
sample provides a sonic juxtaposition of soul and hip hop, drawing a comparison of the
aesthetic. Here, the artists engage in a common hip-hop tradition of sampling soul tracks
from the 1970s, and at the same time acknowledge that they are working to build links
The track “Justice Tomorrow” adds another layer, combining a Fairuz sample
with The Temptations’ 1973 song “Ain’t No Justice.” Beginning with a clip from
Fairuz’s famous song “Zahrat al-Mada’in,” or “The flower of cities,” an ode to Jerusalem
as a holy city. Fairuz is widely considered a national treasure in Lebanon and she is
renowned throughout the Arab world. She first became known for her work with the
Rahbani brothers in the 1960s and 70s, and eventually rose to the level of national icon.
The song “Zahrat al-Mada’in” was written in 1967 after the Arab-Israeli war and the song
was released after an arson attack damaged the al-Aqsa Mosque in 1969. As Joseph
Massad writes, the song “vacillates between martial music, Byzantine Arab church
hymns, and somber sentimentality.”253 Fairuz opens with the lines, “It is for you that I
pray, O city of prayers…” and the song celebrates the holy multi-religious history of the
city, concluding with the words, “by our hands the peace will return to Jerusalem.”
“Zahrat al-Mada’in” has served as an anthem for the city in the years since it was written,
252
Alsalman, Diatribes, p. 43
253
Joseph Massad, “Liberating Songs: Palestine Put to Music,” Journal of Palestine
Studies, vol. 32 (3), Spring 2003, p. 25-26
149
and the Palestinian Authority awarded Fairuz with the first Jerusalem Prize for Culture in
1998.
Jerusalem in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and a tribute to the nostalgia of Fairuz’s song.
a pan-Arab politics, and also collapses the temporal space between the late-1960s and the
present moment. In Pierre Nora’s terminology, the Fairuz sample works as a lieu de
diaspora who were alive during the 1967 war. In the track “Tomorrow’s Justice,”
Fairuz’s voice is interrupted by the sound of a helicopter, and the sample shifts to the
Temptations Song “Ain’t No Justice,” along with the sounds of public protests and a
voice saying “the state of Israel is not a fleeting experiment.” The helicopter sound
evokes images of the occupied Palestinian territories under surveillance by the Israeli
state.
By combining the sample from Fairuz’s song about Jerusalem with the Motown
track claiming there “ain’t no justice,” the song creates a transnational bridge,
analogizing the struggle for African American justice and the Palestinian struggle against
the Israeli State. The track includes verses by Ragtop, Excentrik, and the Narcicyst, and
their words cover a variety of subjects including from injustice in Palestine, to the war on
slaves, you can see it in the difference of the living in conditions like missions tortured
Indians force ‘em to Christians, we call ‘em Palestinians we ain’t missing.” Here,
150
experiences and the U.S. government treatment of Native Americans. Additionally, the
Temptations song claims “there ain’t no justice in that picture that you’re painting of me
in your mind,” which alludes to media depictions of Arabs after 9/11 and the circulation
The final “bonus” track at the end of the album, titled “Wartime (Wil’out),” is a
free jazz recording featuring saxophone, oud, tabla, and percussion. The chaotic bebop
sounds on the track pay tribute to jazz of the late-1960s that pushed the boundaries of
what was considered music. Fusing free jazz with Middle Eastern percussion adds
another layer of complexity and noise to the track, and it also brings together the jazz
manifestation of the radical politics of the Black Arts Movement with fast and
together the rebellious aesthetic of the early hip-hop moment with the reality of the War
on Terror. The Arab Summit is careful about the comparisons they trace, and the artists
make historical connections between periods of colonial subjugation and the post-9/11
moment. Moreover, by combining Arab and African American sounds, the album makes
use of the hip-hop technique of mixing and recycling styles to create something new.
Arab hip hop artists follow in the tradition of Arab writers and spoken word artists
like Suheir Hammad, who published her first poetry collection, Born Palestinian, Born
Black, in 1996. Hammad’s poetry provides a productive bridge between literature and
music, and her work pioneered solidarities between Arab and African American cultures.
The title of her first collection, Born Palestinian, Born Black, is a radical statement that
ties together the black American experience and Palestinian suffering. Conveying a hip
151
hop aesthetic influenced by the music she grew up with in Brooklyn, Hammad reached
considerable fame when she appeared on HBO’s Def Poetry Jam beginning in 2001.254
Hammad was born to a Muslim Palestinian family in Amman, Jordan; they had left the
town of Lydd after the creation of the state of Israel in 1948 and immigrated to Brooklyn
when Suheir was five. Her work articulates a direct connection with the Arab world as
well as the urban landscape of New York. She links the experience of living as a young
woman in Brooklyn in the 1990s to that of living in the Middle East as a Palestinian.
For example, in Hammad’s poem “99 cent lipstick,” she memorializes young
victims of gun violence and inner city poverty, describing “a deep dark void sucking / in
my deep dark people.” She juxtaposes poems that reflect on the black urban experience
with poems about Palestinian identity and the brutality perpetrated by the Israeli
government’s occupation. In “Silence,” she writes, “I wonder what he/ heard as he ran/
wonder what he/ thought as the/ american bullets/ flew from/ israeli hands/ through god’s
air/ to murder another/ one of freedom’s sons.” Here Hammad considers the sonic
“exotic.” Hammad proclaims, “don’t wanna be your exotic,” and then, “the beat of my
lashes against each other/ aint some dark desert beat.” She voices her opposition to being
objectified as a “fragile colorful bird,” suggesting that her status as a woman of color in
the U.S. intensifies her sense of diasporic dislocation. Arab racial and ethnic difference
254
Russell Simmons apparently read Hammad’s poem “first writing since” and offered
her a two-year contract with Def Poetry Jam.
152
and questions of “minority” status are complex because the U.S. currently classifies
populations with Middle Eastern backgrounds as “white.” As many scholars and cultural
critics have argued, this has created contradictions between the official state
Hammad’s poem “First Writing Since” shortly after 9/11, describes her feelings
about the attack as a Palestinian woman from Brooklyn. She was supposed to report to
work at the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, but was running late. She writes
about her wide range of reactions, explaining that she was both devastated by the loss and
concerned about heightened stereotypes. She felt defensive and mourned the lives that
were lost, but worried about her brother who had just joined the Navy. Considering the
complexity of Hammad’s reactions, it is no surprise that the term “terrorist” would soon
enter the popular American lexicon as a shorthand for Arabs and Muslims, and that these
categories were often collapsed into one monolithic whole that obscured the real diversity
of both groups.
Hammad’s generation and those from the first wave of Arab immigration to the U.S. in
the late-19th and early-20th centuries. Arab Americans from “Greater Syria” began
coming to the U.S. in the 1880s. This first wave of immigrants tended to be Greek
Orthodox or Maronite Christians, and often worked in the service industry. First and
foremost, those in the early group confirm that the “terrorist” label did not emerge until
later in the 20th century. Writers who gained recognition in the first wave of immigrants
include Kahlil Gibran, who went on to gain prominence as a poet and author of The
Prophet. In the 1920s, Gibran participated in a society called The Pen League in New
153
York City, also known as al-Majhar, or the diaspora. Other members included Nasib
Arida, Abdul Massih Haddad, and Ameen Rihani. According to the organization’s
mission statement, the objective of The Pen League was to promote a new generation of
writers and “to lift Arabic literature from the quagmire of stagnation and imitation, and to
infuse a new life into its veins so as to make of it an active force in the building up of the
Salom Rizk, an immigrant from Syria, illustrates the prototypical narrative that
developed among the first group of Arab immigrants to the U.S. Rizk published a memoir
in 1943 titled Syrian Yankee, and he eventually toured the country telling his life story,
sponsored by Reader’s Digest. Born in a small town in Syria and orphaned at a young
age, Rizk lived with his grandmother until he discovered that his mother had been born in
the U.S., meaning that he was actually a U.S. citizen. However, it took many years before
Rizk was able to prove his identity and make the jouraey to America. He expected the
U.S. to be a kind of wonderland from the descriptions he had heard, and was therefore
disappointed when he came to live with his uncle and work alongside him in a meat
packing plant. The job was harder because of his limited knowledge of English, and he
was called a “damn foreigner” by his boss and treated with disrespect by the other
workers.
for American values of liberty and democracy throughout the memoir, explaining at the
end that realizes that he had to earn his citizenship with hard work. Rizk finally left the
meat plant to become a traveling salesman after learning how to speak English in an
255
Nadeem Naimy, The Lebanese Prophets of New York, Beirut, Lebanon: American
University of Beirut, 1985, p. 18.
154
elementary school. While he had technically been born an American citizen, he didn’t
feel he actually belonged in the U.S. until he learned the language and found a career at
which he could succeed. While Rizk’s story can’t possibly represent that of all Arab
Americans in the first wave, it is clear from the memoir that the discrimination he faced
was mostly because of his foreign status and linguistic difference, not because of his
narrative around 9/11, and many commentators made the assumption that all Arabs were
Muslim; Muslims from outside the Middle East as well as Sikhs and other religious
groups were targeted as possible terrorists. As Steven Salaita argues, after 9/11 the
the U.S. government or foreign affairs was determined unpatriotic, and therefore suspect.
This also meant that “American-ness” was limited to those who qualified as patriotic,
eliminating many immigrants including Arab Americans and/or Muslims who couldn’t
prove their loyalty to the U.S. Some chose to leave rather than face this kind of scrutiny,
By the beginning of the 21st century, this “Arab as terrorist” stereotype was firmly
established. Performing an analysis of media images of Arabs during the 20th century,
Jack Shaheen contends that racist depictions of Arabs as terrorists began in response to
the Palestinian resistance movement and became widespread in the 1970s and 1980s:
…in the late 1940s when the state of Israel was founded on Palestinian land. From
that preemptive point on—through the Arab-Israeli wars of 1948, 1967, 1973, the
hijacking of planes, the disruptive 1973 Arab oil embargo, along with the rise of
Libya’s Muammar Qaddafi and Iran’s Ayatollah Khomeini—shot after shot
155
delivered the relentless drum beat that all Arabs were and are Public Enemy No.
1.256
At the same time, however, during the post-9/11 era there were sympathetic
representations of Arabs and Muslims in the media, which Evelyn Alsultany contends
Alsultany, television depictions introduced the binary of the “good Arab/Muslim” vs. the
Rather than producing solely negative stereotypical images, popular media also
specialized in the production of sympathetic Arab characters that served to reinforce what
she calls “diversity patriotism.”257 For example, television shows 24 and Homeland often
depicted “good” or likeable Arab characters alongside terrorist villains, projecting the
notion that the U.S. has reached a “postrace” era where racism was no longer a major
concern. In reality, these depictions provide evidence of a new form of racism that
The shift that took place after 9/11, therefore, was toward the ubiquity of
stereotypical images that had already been in circulation. As Nadine Naber contends, by
the 1990s, Arab Americans were unavoidably connected to a region important to U.S.
military and economic interests. Increasing U.S. military intervention beginning in the
1960s and 1970s transformed Arab Americans into a “diaspora of empire,” which
coincided with a shift from what she describes as “model minority” to “problem
256
Jack Shaheen, Reel Bad Arabs, Northampton, MA: Olive Branch Press (third edition):
2014, p. 28-29.
257
Evelyn Alsultany, Arabs and Muslims in the Media: Race and Representation After
9/11, New York: NYU Press: 2013, p. 17.
156
minority.”258 Naber underscores the fact that Arab Americans’ “problem minority” status
has forced the community to focus on the terms of Orientalist vs. anti-Orientalist rhetoric.
limitations enacted by the “problem minority” status. Arab hip hop artists have worked to
introducing poetic language, and also directly addressing what it means to be a diaspora
of empire.
the work of Arab writers and artists since 2001, and has also introduced the possibility of
Bayoumi narrates the experiences of young Arab Americans in his 2009 book, How Does
it Feel to be a Problem? Being Young and Arab in America. The title itself, a reference to
W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Souls of Black Folk, introduces a parallel between African
American and Arab American experience. Bayoumi contends, “A century later, Arabs
and Muslim Americans are the new ‘problem’ of American society….”259 His book
follows the narratives of nine young Arabs and Muslims in Brooklyn, recounting their
age five, describes her family’s three-month detainment in New York prisons in 2002.
Rasha and her parents, sister, and two brothers were taken from their home in Brooklyn
by the FBI and held separately in the Metropolitan Detention Center without charges. The
258
Nadine Naber, Arab America: Gender, Cultural Politics, and Activism, New York:
NYU Press, 2012.
259
Mustapha Bayoumi, How Does it Feel to be a Problem? Being Young and Arab in
America, New York, NY: Penguin Press, 2008, p. 2.
157
family had never been granted U.S. citizenship, but they were fortunate to have a lawyer
and community support and were eventually let go. The three months in detention still
took a psychological toll. According to Bayoumi, “Rasha wouldn’t tell me if any physical
abuse befell her eldest brother or father, just that they were mostly silent about their
experiences after the family was reunited.”260 In 2003, the Justice Department completed
There is evidence to suggest that the Arab American community has been under
surveillance by the U.S. government at least since 1967. An FBI plan under Richard
Nixon named “Operation Boulder” authorized security checks on all visa applicants with
Arab surnames in the wake of the Arab-Israeli War, and “further authorized the FBI to
spy on the Arab American community through compiling dossiers on people’s lawful
political activities and even monitoring the magazines they read….”261 These monitoring
activities came to light once again with the case of the L.A. 8 in 1987. A month after the
initiation of the first Palestinian intifada against Israel, seven Palestinian men and one
Kenyan woman were arrested in Los Angeles for distributing materials in support of the
Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. The FBI sought to deport the activists based
on their political activity. The case was in legal limbo until it was finally thrown out in
2007. Episodes of government surveillance were also reported during first Gulf War in
the 1990s. These cases validate the claim that Arab Americans form part of a “diaspora of
empire,” since the government has often monitored and responded to them based on
events overseas.
260
Bayoumi, How Does it Feel, p. 39.
261
Ibid, p. 264
158
As Mustafa Bayoumi suggests with the title of his book, How Does it Feel to be a
with blackness. Arab hip hop demonstrates the presence of a “global black
which she says “links individuals across time, space, and racial categories.”262 Sharma
makes the case that South Asian hip hop artists redefine South Asian and black relations
“as mutually constitutive and created through lateral acts of cross-pollination.” Not only
do they change what it means to be an American Desi, Sharma claims, but they also
comprises a sense of belonging from shared ancestry and culture, while race is largely an
external category: “South Asian American hip hop artists defy expectations of the new
second generation by turning away from both an ethno-national identity (as ‘Sri
Lankans,’ for instance) and from an assimilated mainstream White identity.”263 Instead,
the young South Asians she profiles voluntarily choose to identify with blackness. And
likewise, “Aware of their liminal status in relation to co-ethnics, Blacks, and Whites, they
sample the race consciousness and counterhegemonic messages of hip-hop lyrics and
There are numerous parallels to be made between Arab American and South
Asian American hip-hop communities. Like Arab American immigration, the history of
South Asian migration to the U.S. also happened in two waves, the second of which
262
Nitasha Sharma, Hip Hop Desis: South Asian Americans, Blackness, and a Global
Race Consciousness, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2010, p. 91
263
Ibid, p. 39
264
Ibid, p. 109
159
began after the 1965 Immigration Act. Sharma describes a politics of assimilation among
first generation South Asian Americans, who often reject associations with blackness in
conservative cultural insularity, revealing that “ethnicity also enacts racism upon others
Sharma argues that class is an important factor, as many middle-class South Asian
the impact of racism by identifying with the “model minority” paradigm and by
emphasizing upward class mobility and white collar professions.267 Similar dynamics are
at play in the Arab American community, with class and generational politics affecting
the ways that members approach their racial identities. Like South Asians, second
generation Arab Americans are negotiating between the expectations of their parents’
There are also similarities between South Asians and Arab Americans as far as
the specifics of racial categorization. Both groups have been treated as “in between”, and
as “not quite white” by the U.S. state and the public at large. The legal system has more
often deemed Arab Americans “white” than it has South Asians, but as Sarah Gualtieri
points out, there are numerous 20th-century court cases that illustrate the “not-quite-
white” status of Arab Americans. For example, “…the Syrian racial prerequisite cases
265
Sharma, Hip Hop Desis, p. 41
266
Ibid, p 47
267
Ibid, p. 44
160
heard in federal courts between 1909 and 1915 demonstrate that buried beneath the
reasoned rationales of the legal rulings lay contradictions, ambiguities, and discrepancies.
Quite simply, the courts were having difficulty deciding who was a ‘white person.”268
Diasporic Reorientations
Shadia Mansour, has been called the “first lady of Arabic hip hop.” In fact, she is one of
the few women involved with the movement.269 Known for collaborations with a number
of prominent MCs including M1 from Dead Prez and the Narcicyst, Mansour has said
that she wants to enact a “musical intifada.”270 Though raised in the U.K., Mansour has
traveled and performed in the Palestinian territories, and her work reflects her dedication
audiences, but her largely Arabic lyrics suggest a desire to reach Arabs both in the
Middle East and the diaspora. Her track “Lazim netghayyar,” or “We have to Change,”
featuring Omar Offendum, sends a clear message about the dire need for a new approach
to the Palestinian Israeli crisis. Though almost entirely in Arabic, the song appears with
clockwise and the world is losing its balance/ Tell me where else is there for us to go?/
We have to change!” The idea of the earth rotating the wrong direction speaks to the real
268
Sarah Gualtieri, Between Arab and White: Race and Ethnicity in the Early Syrian
American Diaspora, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2009, p. 74.
269
Jackie Salloum’s film Slingshot Hip Hop profiles several other Palestinian women
artists Abeer (the witch), for one, but they have gained less international visibility than
their male counterparts.
270
Jon Donnison, “British Palestinian rapper conducts a ‘musical intifada,’” BBC News,
September 7, 2010.
161
Mansour opens the track with an audio sample from an interview with Juliano
Mer Khamis, an Arab Israeli actor, director, and activist who was assassinated near the
theater he founded in Jenin in 2011.271 Khamis says, “We are facing the end of the
destruction of the Palestinian people by the Israeli forces. We are in a situation today that
not only the political and economical [sic] infrastructure was destroyed. Israel is
images of Israelis and Palestinians during the first Arab-Israeli war in 1948, the quote
conveys the magnitude of the devastation on Palestinians’ lives. Mansour uses historical
images to powerful effect in the video, illustrating the creation of the state of Israel after
World War II and the subsequent occupation of Arab Palestinian land. She stands in the
271
Khamis was also apparently Shadia Mansour’s cousin.
272
“More Insights—Juliano Mer Khamis, self-explained.” Un-Truth, April 9, 2011,
accessed Dec 1, 2015, https://un-truth.com/boundaries-borders/more-insights-juliano-
mer-khamis-self-explained.
162
center of the screen and highlights particular images by dragging them across the display.
Her own image also becomes transparent and is merged with the background images of
Palestinian people running in the streets and meetings with global leaders including
portraits of Palestinian peasant women from the early-20th century while asking, “Tell
me, where else is there for us to go?” Mansour calls for recognition of the past and
She raps, “We are between two occupations: the occupation of the brain and the
occupation of the country/ No doubt that the road to equality is complex/ but our future is
to begin to free ourselves from mental slavery.” By moving away from Western and
Israeli domination, she suggests, Palestinians will be more likely to educate themselves
and gain self-determination. Omar Offendum’s verse speaks directly to Arabs and Arab
Americans who may not be doing their part to help Palestinians. He says:
Offendum’s bold appeal to fellow Arabs in this verse and Mansour’s ultimate message
about the desperation of the Palestinian situation in 2013 exemplify her commitment to a
“musical intifada.”
163
Shadia Mansour’s call for resistance is perhaps most evident in her 2011 track “Al
Kufeyyeh Arabiyya” or “The kufeyyeh is Arab,” which she wrote upon discovering a
company producing Israeli kufeyyehs imitating the Arab scarves with the Star of David
on them. The track features M1 of the Brooklyn hip hop group Dead Prez. Together,
Mansour and M1 describe the cultural importance of the scarf to the Palestinian
community and draw parallels between Arab and pan-African resistance: “From the
ghetto to Gaza/ I keep my RBG up,” M1 proclaims at the end of his verse, referring to the
pan-African flag. Following early hip hop convention, Mansour’s lyrics are at once
satirical, belligerent, and earnest. She raps, “Good morning cousins/ Come in and honor
us with your presence/ What would you like us to serve you, Arab blood or tears from our
eyes?” Her outrage arises from the realization that even after taking over the land of
Palestine, Israelis continually appropriate and imitate Arab culture. For Mansour, the
kufeyyeh is the final straw. Rapping about her pride in her Palestinian heritage, she says,
this track speaks to the genuine transnationalism of Arab hip hop and of 21st century
P.H.A.T.W.A, the most direct response to the “war on terror” on his 2009 album The
song, which stands for “Political hip hop attracting the world’s attention” or “Purposeful
hatred against the wrong Arabs,” depicts Narcy going through security in an airport.
273
“The Narcicyst, “PHATWA,” YouTube video, posted by Channel Narcy, April 9,
2009, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtoHCUMpNMY. As of November 15, 2015,
the video had 378,615 views.
164
When his African American friend asks, “who do you think they’re gonna harass more,
man? You or me?” Narcy responds, “Obviously me. You know Iraq is the new black.”
With a catchy chorus that includes the lyrics “I get deported somewhere to die,” Narcy
raps in front of prisoners in orange jumpsuits dancing with bags on their heads and gets
interrogated by an F.B.I. agent who calls him a “rapper guy” and rattles off a series of
Arab-sounding names when he forgets his name. At the end, an Arab FBI agent asks him,
“Do you think we should get out of Iraq?” and Narcy replies, “it depends what you mean
by ‘we.’” The video is based on Alsalman’s own experiences of being stopped and
interrogated in airports. In 2008 he was detained and prevented from entering the U.S. on
the Canadian border. The P.H.A.T.W.A. song and video use satirical humor to shed light
Western hemisphere. The video for “Hamdulillah” is the most-viewed of any of The
singer Shadia Mansour.274 Mansour pays tribute to ancestors in Gaza (and Basra) in her
chorus. The mood of the song is somber and reflective, and Narcy allows for a level of
vulnerability that is unusual for hip-hop. The title means “praise to God” in Arabic, and
Narcy speaks about his love for his family members and his faith in Islam: “Bismillah,
means to will in God’s name/Without the ball and chain/A slave falling to claim/
Bismillah, will forever hold inner peace.” The video shows images of over a hundred
people, most of whom are Narcy’s friends and fellow artists. The portraits depict people
274
The video had 1,043,362 views as December 9, 2015.
165
of all ages, genders, and ethnicities. About half of the women wear hijab and some of the
The portraits are short video clips showing the person or couple looking into the
camera, conveying a sense of unity among differences. Sonically, the song is built around
Mansour’s vocals with a simple string accompaniment identified as Arab with a repeating
qanun riff. “Hamdulillah” is a visual and sonic tribute to the heterogeneity and beauty of
Islam, and it counters mainstream narratives about the religion as inherently violent.
Narcy refers to the moment when the “militants tried to split this law,” a comment on
disputes about the implementation of Sharia law or the ban on music in Islam. The song
pulls together Narcy’s political ideology with his desire for a transformation in media
In a more recent project, an Arabic EP entitled Nargisee, Narcy pays tribute to his
166
Arab heritage and engages in several artistic collaborations, with tracks featuring Tamer
Nafar and Mahmour Jrere from the Palestinian group DAM, Algerian Canadian MC
Maryam Saci, and Nizar Wattad AKA Ragtop from The Philistines and Arab Summit.
Nargisee is almost entirely in Arabic, and takes on the politics of diasporic identity as a
tribute to friends and ancestors from the past. The album begins with an introduction
evoking nostalgia for the formal pan-Arab education style that was the product of a
previous generation.
The cover art exhibits visual nostalgia in a style Narcy terms “future vintage,”
with artwork by his wife, Sundus Abdul Hadi, incorporating early-20th century photos
from the Arab world that superimposes the faces of the artists on the album over the
originals. As Narcy writes in the album booklet, “The album art is inspired by
photographs of our families during the golden days of the Arab world, when war was a
distant future that was yet unknown, but colonization was still a reality…I dedicate this
booklet to our grandmothers and grandfathers, who have grounded us and made us know
and appreciate our rich heritage and complicated histories.”275 The photos are captioned
with the locations, which include “Basra, 1950,” “Jerusalem, Palestine, 1948,” and
“University of Damascus, 1970.” Narcy memorializes his friend and co-founder of the
rap group Euphrates, Nofy Fannan, in an image of the two of them along with producer
Nawar Al-Rufaie sitting in a biplane with the caption “The past in the future, towards the
Euphrates.” These images are poignant in their creative re-collecting of people and eras
that never coexisted, and they point to a longing for a utopian past. Narcy’s reference to
275
The Narcicyst, Nargisee, The Medium, 2014.
167
an era when “war was a distant future,” for example, is unrealistic, since the Arab world
The inventive hybridization of past and present is evident in the music as well as
the album art. “Sikeena” featuring Omar Offendum is a poetic meditation on life and
violence. The song samples the famous Lebanese singer, Majida El Roumi, performing
the song “Ya Beirut,” originally a poem by Nizar Qabbani written during the Lebanese
Civil War. The sample is evocative for its melancholy vocals and classical Arabic sound.
Offendum raps in Arabic about how “the road to Syria is paved with blood/ A crescent
made fertile from all the corpses/ Below the earth – buried worries and stories/ Who’s to
168
blame?” and “nothing is clear anymore in this cloudy world.” The track expresses
exhaustion with the level of violence in the Middle East following the hope and
excitement of the Arab Spring. Offendum suggests, “my advice brother is to be patient,”
while Narcy questions the dedication of the Islamic religious community: “But where is
the Ummah? Why do you no longer think of your mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers?
A United Arab Republic/ pfff like Biggie said, it was all a dream.” These lyrics are
representative of the mood of many in the Arab world and the diaspora who are
Washington DC area and attended the Islamic Saudi Academy in Alexandria, VA, a
bilingual school with classes in both English and Arabic. Offendum moved to Los
Angeles in 2005, and he worked as an architect until 2013, when he quit his job to pursue
music full time. Offendum describes his early musical experiences as complicated due to
Rather than listening to music at school, Offendum describes the school bus as the
place to listen to walkmans and memorize new music by Tupac or the Wu Tang Clan. He
additionally mentions Biggie, Nas, Common, Scarface, and Outkast as artists that
influenced his musical development. In college, Offendum started a hip-hop duo with a
276
Alsalman, Diatribes, p. 67.
169
Sudanese American friend from middle school, El-Tayeb Ibrahim, aka Mr. Tibbz.
Together they were known as The N.O.M.A.D.S (Notoriously Offensive Male Arabs
Discussing Shit). They recorded an album entitled Dissonance & Dissendat in 2004,
which covers a variety of topics including racial profiling, Islam, Arab identity, and
alcoholism. The album maintains a light tone despite its serious subject matter.
imaginary geographic space between Syria and America, which Offendum has said is “a
of the songs on include verses in both English and Arabic, and the album navigates
Offendum’s complex identity. The chorus of the song “Destiny,” for example, includes
the line “It’s hard living in the West when I know the East got the best of me/Could be
looking in my eyes but you don’t really see the rest of me.” Offendum suggests that there
is an element of his identity that non-Arab Americans cannot understand, and the Arabic
verse in the song speaks directly to this divide. The song articulates Offendum’s
“Destiny” to be a man caught between two worlds, living in the West and observing the
He alludes that the root of this violence is Western imperialism, but that Arabs,
and Syrians specifically, must also take responsibility to stop it. Through his verses,
with ties to the Middle East, since he is powerless in the face of the pain he is witnessing
in his homeland. In an Arabic verse he speaks directly to the violence in Damascus or the
area known as “greater Syria”: “If we say ‘an eye for an eye’/ There won’t be any eyes
left in Sham/ Bilad al-Sham.” In the English verse Offendum says there are unappreciated
170
elements of Arab culture in the West, which put together suggest that “you might not
“Destiny” remixes a sample from Paul Anka’s 1958 hit “You Are My Destiny,”
which reached #7 on the American Billboard charts. The choice of this sample is
Ottawa to a Syrian father and Lebanese mother, and moved to New York City and began
working with producer Don Costa at ABC-Paramount. Anka is one of the most successful
using this sample, Offendum is honoring Paul Anka’s ancestry and shedding light on the
history of Arab performers in the U.S. The sound of Anka’s voice, though remixed,
rapping over the track in Arabic. The song’s declaration, “You are my destiny,” produces
the West while looking toward the East, but he also embraces the insight he obtains from
Omar Offendum views his fluency in both Arab and American cultures as a
unique opportunity to translate between the two. As a hip-hop artist, he values the
abundant tradition of poetry in Arab culture. The tracks “Damascus” and “Finjan” on
Syrianamericana both translate poems by the celebrated 20th century Syrian poet Nizar
Qabbani’s work, and they emphasize the close relationship between hip-hop and poetry,
171
blurring boundaries between “literature” “high art” and “pop culture.” Another track,
“The Arab Speaks of Rivers,” translates Langston Hughes’s famous poem “The Negro
Speaks of Rivers” into Arabic. “The Negro Speaks of Rivers,” first published in 1921 and
known for its Afrocentric perspective, draws parallels between the Mississippi River, the
As Langston Hughes writes, “I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.”277 Offendum’s track begins with an audio
clip of Langston Hughes speaking about his composition of the poem, which then
transitions to his translation of the poem into Arabic. Offendum’s reading is set against a
drumbeat and a simple piano accompaniment. He speaks in formal Arabic in the manner
of renowned modern Arab poets such as Nizar Qabbani and Mahmoud Darwish. Aurally
and conceptually, “The Arab Speaks of Rivers” ties together the celebrated poet of the
Harlem Renaissance to the great poets of the Arab world. It also introduces Arabic
More broadly, Offendum excavates the work of poets and artists from previous
generations in an effort to challenge the vilification of Arabness after 9/11. The track
“Mother’s Day” samples a track by the early-20th century “golden age” Syrian diva
Asmahan, who was the sister of the celebrated singer and performer Farid Al-Atrache.
Asmahan was extremely popular in Egyptian films in the 1930s and 40s, and many
consider her a pivotal figure in Arab popular music. Offendum dedicates the track to his
own mother, and he sings in the chorus, “There’s no way that I’ll ever be able to repay
277
Langston Hughes, “The Negro Speaks of Rivers,” 1921.
172
you, ma.” The Asmahan clip he samples is from a love song entitled “Emta Hataraf”
from the 1944 film Gharam wa intiqam (passion and revenge). This sample plays behind
Offendum’s rhyming about how his mother raised him after his father died when he was
twelve, serving as a tribute to the importance of sound in personal and familial memory,
173
Conclusion: Music, Violence, and Social Transformation
While completing this dissertation, the news of the coordinated attacks that killed
130 people in Paris on November 13, 2015 and the subsequent scrutiny of Muslims and
Arabs in the West loomed large. Public discourse has recently focused on strategies for
limiting the migration of Syrian refugees to the U.S. At the heart of such controversies is
society, and nearly fifteen years after the 9/11 attacks, anti-Arab racism and Islamophobia
remain prevalent. The rhetoric of fear and isolationism has become particularly evident in
the presidential campaign of Donald Trump, who has called for all Muslims to be banned
from traveling to the U.S.278 Trump’s rhetoric has been widely condemned by other
politicians and public figures, but it is worthwhile to compare the public discourse
regarding Muslims following the Paris attacks to debates about Israel and Palestine;
Judith Butler’s contention about the limitations on public discourse become easily
Furthermore, the violence and resulting racism that have been increasingly
prevalent in the past fifteen years raise questions about the powers and limits of sound
and music in catalyzing real social change. While music can raise awareness and form
connections as in the case of Arab hip hop, there are limits when it comes to the forces of
state and military violence. For the past several years, the U.S. government has used hip
hop as a tool of diplomacy in the Muslim world. In fact, the US State Department has a
long history of using music, and specifically hip hop, to nurture positive perceptions of
the country abroad. As Penny Von Eschen and others have documented, jazz was an
278
Jeremy Diamond, “Donald Trump: Ban all Muslim Travel to U.S.,” CNN Politics,
December 8, 2015.
174
important tool of diplomacy during the Cold War.279 More recently, hip hop has been
used to leverage support during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The state department
Next level, an initiative sponsored by the State Department and UNC Chapel Hill,
was launched in 2014. The artists, some of whom are Muslim, have served as
According to Hisham Aidi, “The tours aim not only to exhibit the integration of
American Muslims, but also, according to planners, to promote democracy and foster
More specifically, he contends, “Muslim youth on both sides of the Atlantic are, along
with their non-Muslim counterparts, building movements and narratives that casually
279
Penny Von Eschen, Sachmo Blows up the World, Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 2006.
280
Hisham Aidi, “Leveraging hip hop in US foreign policy,” Al Jazeera, Nov 7, 2011.
281
Ibid
282
Evelyn Alsultany, Arabs and Muslims in the Media After 9/11
283
Hisham Aidi, Rebel Music: Race, Empire, and the New Muslim Youth Culture, New
York: Vintage, 2014, xxi-xxii
175
traverse history and geography to imagine a utopian future for themselves.”284
There is evidence that Arab American hip-hop specifically has been used as a
vehicle for government diplomacy. A 2005 State Department press release, for example,
Smithsonian’s Freer Gallery in conjunction with an exhibit on Yemen and the ancient
incense trade. The title affirms, “Arab-American Rapper Promotes Arabic Heritage
Through Music,” and the article reveals an interest in promoting positive relations
between the Arab American community and US government institutions. The tone,
however, indicates a simplification of the complex issues at hand: “In a concert blending
East and West, an American belly dancer performed alongside the rapper during three of
his songs, showing the Arabian influence on the United States. Moreover, Masaed’s
attire—a headscarf, a Baltimore Orioles baseball jersey and blue jeans—also illustrated
the blend.”285 By focusing on the belly dancer and the clothing of the performer, the
article shifts focus attention from the very real experiences of discrimination after 9/11
On the other hand, members of the Arab hip hop movement were active in the
Arab Spring uprisings of 2011-2012, and YouTube’s wide reach helped circulate their
clips transnationally. While the region-wide revolutions were politically complex and in
didn’t necessarily lead to the massive social liberation many were hoping they would, it
is important to acknowledge the role of music in the wave of demonstrations and protests.
The song “#Jan25,” a collaborative project involving emcees Omar Offendum, The
284
Aidi, Rebel Music, p. xx
285
Brittany Sterrett, “Arab-Amercan rapper promotes Arabic heritage through music,”
US Fed News Service, Including US State News, July 11, 2005.
176
Narcicyst, Freeway, Ayan, and Amir Suleiman, celebrated the thousands of people who
took to the streets of Tahrir Square in January 2011. The title references the crucial
importance of Twitter hashtags in circulating updates and information about the protests.
As Offendum himself wrote, “…this track serves as a testament to the revolution’s effect
on the hearts and minds of today’s youth, and the spirit of resistance it has come to
symbolize for oppressed people worldwide.”286 One writer called “#Jan25” a “soundtrack
to the revolution,” emphasizing the clip’s viral status and the fact that it became widely
popular in Egypt.287 In fact, in addition to hip hop being vital to the “soundtrack” of the
Arab Spring, the movement also raised awareness in the U.S. about diasporic hip hop. In
this way, though limited, music and sonic imaginaries do sometimes have material
303 brings together many of the themes I have discussed throughout this dissertation
including sound and memory, geographic belonging, and sonic identification. Made up of
members from Palestine and Tunisia, the group is named after an Israeli checkpoint near
Bethlehem. Checkpoint 303’s latest project, The Iqrit Files, is a haunting intertextual
document that sonically reanimates the Palestinian town of Iqrit, which was forcibly
depopulated by the Israeli Defense Forece in 1948. The Israeli Supreme Court later ruled
that the village’s residents could return to their homes, however, the IDF destroyed the
286
“#Jan25 Egypt - Omar Offendum, The Narcicyst, Freeway, Ayah, Amir Sulaiman
(Prod. by Sami Matar),” YouTube video, posted by Sami Matar, Feb 7, 2011,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCbpiOpLwFg.
287
Julia Pyper, “#Jan25: A Soundtrack of the Revolution,” Art Threat, August 15, 2011.
177
town on Christmas Day, 1951.288 The Iqrit Files combines songs, audio clips, and
ambient sounds to narrate the history of the village and its people. “In 1948,” for
example, includes an audio clip of Eleanor Roosevelt reading the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights, intermixed with an ‘oud melody and a Palestinian woman singing a
folksong. The final track, “Return to Iqrit,” imagines the eventual return of the town’s
As the four preceding chapters demonstrate, sound and music have long
functioned as vital modes of U.S. engagements with the Middle East, and popular music
has offered a unique means of affiliation with the constantly shifting category of
affiliatory desires, and a “global black consciousness” help to trace the multiple ways that
sounds of Arabness have manifested in American culture. Beyond simply shedding light
on the perceptions and formulations of Arabness in the 20th and 21st centuries, sonic
expressions have also shifted and complicated the many ways that Americans have
288
Gideon Levy and Alex Levac, “Drafting the Blueprint for Palestinian Refugees’ Right
of Return, Haaretz, October 5, 2013.
178
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