It's not every day that the opportunity to review "an adventurous, scrupulous, impassioned and highly original work of modern contemporary Arabic music" arises. Yet with a build up like that, this reviewer approached the task of analysing 'If He Dies, If If If If If' with equal parts excitement and trepidation.
This is the second album from Jerusalem In My Heart, the collaborative project helmed by Radwan Ghazi Moumneh and visuals man Charles-Andre Coderre, and ably assisted by a bevy of high class friends and colleagues. To claim that it is like nothing you've heard in recent memory may be an oft and overused cliché, but in this case, it would be surprising if the electronically infused post-rock found here, blazing with Arabian vitality, is similar to anything in your current listening pile.
The press release (well worth a read, and available to do so here) goes into minute detail about the concept and process behind the album, the ways in which Arab culture and Western popular compositional techniques have intersected to great effect and places the album in a context which enables it to make a much deeper connection than it might do on its own.
So far, so descriptive. But what of the record itself? Beginning with 'Al Affaq, Lau Mat, Lau Lau Lau Lau Lau Lau (The Hypocrite, If He Dies, If If If If If If)' a track built on closely-harmonising vocals which progressively become more synthesized, this is an album to give oneself over to, to get lost in. 'A Granular Buzuk' features Moumneh's signature instrument prominently atop an Eno-esque swirling synth bed. It is stunning.
'Qala Li Kafa Kafa Kafa Kafa Kafa Kafa (To Me He Said Enough Enough Enough Enough Enough Enough)' begins and ends in a mass of static, as Buzuk fights to be heard and focused upon. It feels like a meditation on the noise of one culture clashing with the pure beauty of the other. The jaw dropping beauty of 'Ta3mani; Ta3meitu (He Fed Me; I Fed Him)' is another highlight; a perfect juxtaposition of musical reference points – it feels like it could almost be an alternative pop song, of the ilk played late at night on BBC 6Music (and perhaps it will be), but at the same time never lets go of its heritage and heart.
It's a huge challenge to critique music from a genre that's unfamiliar. All that can be said as the final notes of '2asmar Sa7ar (The Brown One Cast A Spell)' fade into the distance is that Radwan Ghazi Mounmeh and his cohorts have managed to make a record which communicates across the bounds of culture and time. How many albums manage to achieve such a feat?
8/10
Words: Haydon Spenceley
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