OCTOBER-NOVEMBER 2004
BREAKING THE MOULD
Syria Today
Damascene band Kulnasawa is challenging
preconceptions both at home and abroad.
Jonathan Noble talked to them about their unusual approach to music.
When Arab Pop is mentioned, Kulnasawa isn't exactly the first band that springs
into many people's minds. If you watch their latest video clip for the song
“Wayn A Ramallah,” you won't see muscle bound hunks singing Egyptian love songs
or Lebanese bombshells in slinky dresses. In fact, Kulnasawa (roughly translated
as “We're All Together”) is the antithesis of today's highly stylized and
regimented Arabic music industry. The fact that the eleven-member Syrian band
writes, records, and performs its own music is evidence enough of Kulnasawa's
unique position in the Arabic music world. However, what actually makes them so
special is the fact that Kulnasawa is one of only a handful of Arab bands
currently playing in the Middle East.
While pop groups have long been a part of the American and European music scene,
Arabic music has tended to rely more on the star power of individual artists.
From the likes of Lebanese torch singer Fairuz to modern-day heartthrob Amr Diab,
musicians and songwriters have gotten second billing to their superstar
counterparts. According to some, a cultural reluctance to collaborate prevents
rock and pop groups from taking off. However, Kulnasawa's lead singer, Bashar
Moussa, sees the business structure of the music industry in the Middle East as
a bigger part of the problem.
“It's really rare to have a band in the Arab world,” claims Moussa. “Promoters
and producers who deal with bands from a professional point of view want to know
things like who gets to fly business class and who doesn't. From these silly
details to the important points there is no established way to deal with bands
in the industry.”
Although Moussa - also the group's business and promotional manager - tends to
regard being a group as an obstacle in the modern Arab Pop world, he also sees
it as one of Kulnasawa's biggest selling points.
“Every time we give an interview in the Arab media, the first question is always
‘It's so difficult being a group. Why are you guys part of a band?' This is the
answer: Because there are no other bands in the Arab world.”
However, Kulnasawa isn't known in the Arab music scene soley because of its
place as a lone band among a mass of pop stars and starlets. The group's records
and live performances are a slickly produced fusion of rock attitude and Arabic
lyrics that usually go beyond the standard boy-yearns-for-girl plot of most
Arabic pop songs. The band's insistence on experimenting with musical forms and
unique lyrics has helped to cement their reputation as a thinking person's rock
group.
Before Kulnasawa's lead guitarist Ayham Alani speaks, there is measured silence.
It is as if he is trying to formulate perfectly his sentences for optimum
delivery. Suddenly, he flashes a broad grin and sentences in English peppered
with Arabic words and expressions spout from his mouth. He's talking about the
kind of cultural cross-pollination Kulnasawa specializes in, with their quirky
mixture of everything from heavy metal guitar licks to Balkan gypsy anthems.
“You could consider us the mirror of Syrian youth culture,” says Alani. “We're a
mixture of funk and Western music with some Eastern flavour.”
It's this mixture of Western styles and Eastern flourishes with songs sung in
the band's own Shami (Damascene) accent that have made them so popular among
young Syrians and others in the Arab world. Yet, even with a gold record and
performances in Morocco , Lebanon , Jordan and Dubai , Alani says people in
Syria still don't know him by name. “[People on the street] say: ‘You're the
guitar player in Kulnasawa, what's your name?' This is excellent. This means
that we've popularized Kulnasawa as a group and not as individuals.”
Despite their fame throughout the Middle East, Kulnasawa is essentially a bunch
of young adults that sing about the trials and tribulations of growing up
Syrian. While some of the band's repertoire consists of rockish updates of Arab
folk classics, the majority of the band's songs are about love, politics, and
daily life, Syrian style.
The bands collective love of Syria is evident in a number of their songs. The
first track, “Yali Aiounek,” on the band's new album, Mosaique, is a dialogue
between a young Syrian and his country. According to Moussa, the video for the
track will stress the theme of staying in Syria to work for the country's
future. “The video is about a Syrian guy who wants to emigrate to another
country but gets rejected. He goes home depressed and has a dream,” says Moussa.
“In the dream he sees Damascus in 2050. There are huge skyscrapers with Middle
Eastern architecture and beautiful cafes. He goes towards an embassy afraid to
apply, but when he gets there he sees the guards at the gate giving away
brochures to emigrate instead of rejecting applicants.” Moussa's vision of the
future might take a number of years to reach fruition, but that's not stopping
Kulnasawa from working to realise Syria 's potential now.
Iyad Al-Rimawi sits next to the production console of his newly built studio in
the suburban Damascus neighbourhood of Mezzeh. A picture of The Beatles, and
photos of Iyad standing next to Lebanese legend Ziad Rahbani and the Yugoslavian
film composer Goran Bregovic adorn the walls.
Besides producing and composing music for the burgeoning Syrian musilsilat (soap
opera) industry, Al-Rimawi is also one of the chief songwriters in Kulnasawa.
Al-Rimawi is curious to know how American audiences might receive the band. His
interest is warranted, as the group will embark on a 20-city tour of the US this
November. The tour is being sponsored by the Culture for Peace Program, which is
an initiative of an international NGO, the Royal Academy of Science
International Trust (RASIT).
Al-Rimawi thinks the tour will be a real chance to change American perceptions
of Syria and the Middle East.
“Whenever a reporter comes from CNN, he immediately goes to Souq Hamidieh and
finds the poorest person sitting on the ground and starts asking him
questions... If an American audience sees a band from Syria looking the way we
look and playing this kind of music, I think it will be a great picture of
Syria.”
Should Kulnasawa's “were all together” message of cooperation and unity make as
big an impression abroad as it has in the Middle East, the group's tour of the
US will certainly help to change a few minds. Al-Rimawi is very hopeful of the
outcome. “We want to show them that there are civilised, modern young people [in
Syria] who are open to the whole world and who love Western music as much as
they love Arabic melodies and folklore.”