Aykathani Malakon صنم - أيقظني ملاكٌ
Beirut-based freeform psych troupe SANAM make a convincing racket on their debut album, fusing Egyptian traditional songs with a heady tonic of free jazz, acid rock and DIY noise. Seriously ecstatic gear! RIYL Jerusalem in my Heart, Senyawa or A Silver Mt. Zion.
The first element to catch our attention on 'Aykathani Malakon' is Sandy Chamoun's bewitching vocal performance, that wraps itself around Farah Kaddour's buzuk and Pascal Semerdjian's clattering percussion on the title track. The base of the music is undoubtedly folk, but the band cautiously introduce elements from across the spectrum, retaining their traditional roots but spiraling into intense free expression. Anthony Sahyoun's serrated synths rise like a pot coming to the boil, while Antonio Hajj and Marwan Tohme use bass and guitar respectively to form clouds of hallucinogenic noise. On 'Bell' they switch lanes slightly, with Tohme taking the lead with a rousing Krautrock-esque bassline that's countered by Kaddour's impulsive buzuk twangs and, eventually, Chamoun's levitational vocal acrobatics. Needless to say, we've not heard much like this before.
The band already has plenty of experience under its belt; each member is part of Beirut's boundlessly creative avant underground, playing in bands like Ovid, Kinematik, Postcards and satirical musical collective Al Rahel al Kabir. They assembled after answering a call from Faust's Hans Joachim Irmler, who invited them to play at the Irtijal festival in 2021. After this experience, they took an artist's residency in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, disconnecting themselves from Beirut for just over a week. Their initial improv sessions with Irmler provided the initial inspiration, and they recorded the album quickly with no overdubs, with each member drawing on their own unique palette of sounds. The result is music that steps willingly over genre boundaries, a bizarre combination of tarab and psychedelic avant rock that's as unclassifiable as it is addicting.
Chamoun draws from a variety of contemporary Lebanese writers to inform her lyrics, using poet Bassem Hajjar's text 'Aykathani Malakon' on the opening and closing tracks, and a work from Paul Chaoul on the blinding 'Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt'. Those ornate Arabic words introduce the track, overlaying the band's frilly Montréal post-rock vibrations and gradually increasing in energy until Chamoun is bellowing manically. On 'Ya Nass', she interpolates a piece from Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish, assuredly slurring over tense, slowcore drums and an animated performance from Kaddour. And on '94', the band get closest to tarab, interrupting the flow with lysergic distorted guitars. The band experiment with more electronic elements on 'Mouathibatti', inserting glassy FM plucks into a slowcore rhythm and Chamoun's devotional coos, and closing track 'Rings' is an ambient jazz odyssey, all blunted synths, evocative bass womps and pinprick percussion. We're floored.
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Beirut-based freeform psych troupe SANAM make a convincing racket on their debut album, fusing Egyptian traditional songs with a heady tonic of free jazz, acid rock and DIY noise. Seriously ecstatic gear! RIYL Jerusalem in my Heart, Senyawa or A Silver Mt. Zion.
The first element to catch our attention on 'Aykathani Malakon' is Sandy Chamoun's bewitching vocal performance, that wraps itself around Farah Kaddour's buzuk and Pascal Semerdjian's clattering percussion on the title track. The base of the music is undoubtedly folk, but the band cautiously introduce elements from across the spectrum, retaining their traditional roots but spiraling into intense free expression. Anthony Sahyoun's serrated synths rise like a pot coming to the boil, while Antonio Hajj and Marwan Tohme use bass and guitar respectively to form clouds of hallucinogenic noise. On 'Bell' they switch lanes slightly, with Tohme taking the lead with a rousing Krautrock-esque bassline that's countered by Kaddour's impulsive buzuk twangs and, eventually, Chamoun's levitational vocal acrobatics. Needless to say, we've not heard much like this before.
The band already has plenty of experience under its belt; each member is part of Beirut's boundlessly creative avant underground, playing in bands like Ovid, Kinematik, Postcards and satirical musical collective Al Rahel al Kabir. They assembled after answering a call from Faust's Hans Joachim Irmler, who invited them to play at the Irtijal festival in 2021. After this experience, they took an artist's residency in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, disconnecting themselves from Beirut for just over a week. Their initial improv sessions with Irmler provided the initial inspiration, and they recorded the album quickly with no overdubs, with each member drawing on their own unique palette of sounds. The result is music that steps willingly over genre boundaries, a bizarre combination of tarab and psychedelic avant rock that's as unclassifiable as it is addicting.
Chamoun draws from a variety of contemporary Lebanese writers to inform her lyrics, using poet Bassem Hajjar's text 'Aykathani Malakon' on the opening and closing tracks, and a work from Paul Chaoul on the blinding 'Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt'. Those ornate Arabic words introduce the track, overlaying the band's frilly Montréal post-rock vibrations and gradually increasing in energy until Chamoun is bellowing manically. On 'Ya Nass', she interpolates a piece from Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish, assuredly slurring over tense, slowcore drums and an animated performance from Kaddour. And on '94', the band get closest to tarab, interrupting the flow with lysergic distorted guitars. The band experiment with more electronic elements on 'Mouathibatti', inserting glassy FM plucks into a slowcore rhythm and Chamoun's devotional coos, and closing track 'Rings' is an ambient jazz odyssey, all blunted synths, evocative bass womps and pinprick percussion. We're floored.
Beirut-based freeform psych troupe SANAM make a convincing racket on their debut album, fusing Egyptian traditional songs with a heady tonic of free jazz, acid rock and DIY noise. Seriously ecstatic gear! RIYL Jerusalem in my Heart, Senyawa or A Silver Mt. Zion.
The first element to catch our attention on 'Aykathani Malakon' is Sandy Chamoun's bewitching vocal performance, that wraps itself around Farah Kaddour's buzuk and Pascal Semerdjian's clattering percussion on the title track. The base of the music is undoubtedly folk, but the band cautiously introduce elements from across the spectrum, retaining their traditional roots but spiraling into intense free expression. Anthony Sahyoun's serrated synths rise like a pot coming to the boil, while Antonio Hajj and Marwan Tohme use bass and guitar respectively to form clouds of hallucinogenic noise. On 'Bell' they switch lanes slightly, with Tohme taking the lead with a rousing Krautrock-esque bassline that's countered by Kaddour's impulsive buzuk twangs and, eventually, Chamoun's levitational vocal acrobatics. Needless to say, we've not heard much like this before.
The band already has plenty of experience under its belt; each member is part of Beirut's boundlessly creative avant underground, playing in bands like Ovid, Kinematik, Postcards and satirical musical collective Al Rahel al Kabir. They assembled after answering a call from Faust's Hans Joachim Irmler, who invited them to play at the Irtijal festival in 2021. After this experience, they took an artist's residency in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, disconnecting themselves from Beirut for just over a week. Their initial improv sessions with Irmler provided the initial inspiration, and they recorded the album quickly with no overdubs, with each member drawing on their own unique palette of sounds. The result is music that steps willingly over genre boundaries, a bizarre combination of tarab and psychedelic avant rock that's as unclassifiable as it is addicting.
Chamoun draws from a variety of contemporary Lebanese writers to inform her lyrics, using poet Bassem Hajjar's text 'Aykathani Malakon' on the opening and closing tracks, and a work from Paul Chaoul on the blinding 'Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt'. Those ornate Arabic words introduce the track, overlaying the band's frilly Montréal post-rock vibrations and gradually increasing in energy until Chamoun is bellowing manically. On 'Ya Nass', she interpolates a piece from Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish, assuredly slurring over tense, slowcore drums and an animated performance from Kaddour. And on '94', the band get closest to tarab, interrupting the flow with lysergic distorted guitars. The band experiment with more electronic elements on 'Mouathibatti', inserting glassy FM plucks into a slowcore rhythm and Chamoun's devotional coos, and closing track 'Rings' is an ambient jazz odyssey, all blunted synths, evocative bass womps and pinprick percussion. We're floored.
Beirut-based freeform psych troupe SANAM make a convincing racket on their debut album, fusing Egyptian traditional songs with a heady tonic of free jazz, acid rock and DIY noise. Seriously ecstatic gear! RIYL Jerusalem in my Heart, Senyawa or A Silver Mt. Zion.
The first element to catch our attention on 'Aykathani Malakon' is Sandy Chamoun's bewitching vocal performance, that wraps itself around Farah Kaddour's buzuk and Pascal Semerdjian's clattering percussion on the title track. The base of the music is undoubtedly folk, but the band cautiously introduce elements from across the spectrum, retaining their traditional roots but spiraling into intense free expression. Anthony Sahyoun's serrated synths rise like a pot coming to the boil, while Antonio Hajj and Marwan Tohme use bass and guitar respectively to form clouds of hallucinogenic noise. On 'Bell' they switch lanes slightly, with Tohme taking the lead with a rousing Krautrock-esque bassline that's countered by Kaddour's impulsive buzuk twangs and, eventually, Chamoun's levitational vocal acrobatics. Needless to say, we've not heard much like this before.
The band already has plenty of experience under its belt; each member is part of Beirut's boundlessly creative avant underground, playing in bands like Ovid, Kinematik, Postcards and satirical musical collective Al Rahel al Kabir. They assembled after answering a call from Faust's Hans Joachim Irmler, who invited them to play at the Irtijal festival in 2021. After this experience, they took an artist's residency in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, disconnecting themselves from Beirut for just over a week. Their initial improv sessions with Irmler provided the initial inspiration, and they recorded the album quickly with no overdubs, with each member drawing on their own unique palette of sounds. The result is music that steps willingly over genre boundaries, a bizarre combination of tarab and psychedelic avant rock that's as unclassifiable as it is addicting.
Chamoun draws from a variety of contemporary Lebanese writers to inform her lyrics, using poet Bassem Hajjar's text 'Aykathani Malakon' on the opening and closing tracks, and a work from Paul Chaoul on the blinding 'Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt'. Those ornate Arabic words introduce the track, overlaying the band's frilly Montréal post-rock vibrations and gradually increasing in energy until Chamoun is bellowing manically. On 'Ya Nass', she interpolates a piece from Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish, assuredly slurring over tense, slowcore drums and an animated performance from Kaddour. And on '94', the band get closest to tarab, interrupting the flow with lysergic distorted guitars. The band experiment with more electronic elements on 'Mouathibatti', inserting glassy FM plucks into a slowcore rhythm and Chamoun's devotional coos, and closing track 'Rings' is an ambient jazz odyssey, all blunted synths, evocative bass womps and pinprick percussion. We're floored.
Black LP with printed insert.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Beirut-based freeform psych troupe SANAM make a convincing racket on their debut album, fusing Egyptian traditional songs with a heady tonic of free jazz, acid rock and DIY noise. Seriously ecstatic gear! RIYL Jerusalem in my Heart, Senyawa or A Silver Mt. Zion.
The first element to catch our attention on 'Aykathani Malakon' is Sandy Chamoun's bewitching vocal performance, that wraps itself around Farah Kaddour's buzuk and Pascal Semerdjian's clattering percussion on the title track. The base of the music is undoubtedly folk, but the band cautiously introduce elements from across the spectrum, retaining their traditional roots but spiraling into intense free expression. Anthony Sahyoun's serrated synths rise like a pot coming to the boil, while Antonio Hajj and Marwan Tohme use bass and guitar respectively to form clouds of hallucinogenic noise. On 'Bell' they switch lanes slightly, with Tohme taking the lead with a rousing Krautrock-esque bassline that's countered by Kaddour's impulsive buzuk twangs and, eventually, Chamoun's levitational vocal acrobatics. Needless to say, we've not heard much like this before.
The band already has plenty of experience under its belt; each member is part of Beirut's boundlessly creative avant underground, playing in bands like Ovid, Kinematik, Postcards and satirical musical collective Al Rahel al Kabir. They assembled after answering a call from Faust's Hans Joachim Irmler, who invited them to play at the Irtijal festival in 2021. After this experience, they took an artist's residency in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, disconnecting themselves from Beirut for just over a week. Their initial improv sessions with Irmler provided the initial inspiration, and they recorded the album quickly with no overdubs, with each member drawing on their own unique palette of sounds. The result is music that steps willingly over genre boundaries, a bizarre combination of tarab and psychedelic avant rock that's as unclassifiable as it is addicting.
Chamoun draws from a variety of contemporary Lebanese writers to inform her lyrics, using poet Bassem Hajjar's text 'Aykathani Malakon' on the opening and closing tracks, and a work from Paul Chaoul on the blinding 'Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt'. Those ornate Arabic words introduce the track, overlaying the band's frilly Montréal post-rock vibrations and gradually increasing in energy until Chamoun is bellowing manically. On 'Ya Nass', she interpolates a piece from Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish, assuredly slurring over tense, slowcore drums and an animated performance from Kaddour. And on '94', the band get closest to tarab, interrupting the flow with lysergic distorted guitars. The band experiment with more electronic elements on 'Mouathibatti', inserting glassy FM plucks into a slowcore rhythm and Chamoun's devotional coos, and closing track 'Rings' is an ambient jazz odyssey, all blunted synths, evocative bass womps and pinprick percussion. We're floored.
Limited edition blue colour vinyl with printed insert.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Beirut-based freeform psych troupe SANAM make a convincing racket on their debut album, fusing Egyptian traditional songs with a heady tonic of free jazz, acid rock and DIY noise. Seriously ecstatic gear! RIYL Jerusalem in my Heart, Senyawa or A Silver Mt. Zion.
The first element to catch our attention on 'Aykathani Malakon' is Sandy Chamoun's bewitching vocal performance, that wraps itself around Farah Kaddour's buzuk and Pascal Semerdjian's clattering percussion on the title track. The base of the music is undoubtedly folk, but the band cautiously introduce elements from across the spectrum, retaining their traditional roots but spiraling into intense free expression. Anthony Sahyoun's serrated synths rise like a pot coming to the boil, while Antonio Hajj and Marwan Tohme use bass and guitar respectively to form clouds of hallucinogenic noise. On 'Bell' they switch lanes slightly, with Tohme taking the lead with a rousing Krautrock-esque bassline that's countered by Kaddour's impulsive buzuk twangs and, eventually, Chamoun's levitational vocal acrobatics. Needless to say, we've not heard much like this before.
The band already has plenty of experience under its belt; each member is part of Beirut's boundlessly creative avant underground, playing in bands like Ovid, Kinematik, Postcards and satirical musical collective Al Rahel al Kabir. They assembled after answering a call from Faust's Hans Joachim Irmler, who invited them to play at the Irtijal festival in 2021. After this experience, they took an artist's residency in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, disconnecting themselves from Beirut for just over a week. Their initial improv sessions with Irmler provided the initial inspiration, and they recorded the album quickly with no overdubs, with each member drawing on their own unique palette of sounds. The result is music that steps willingly over genre boundaries, a bizarre combination of tarab and psychedelic avant rock that's as unclassifiable as it is addicting.
Chamoun draws from a variety of contemporary Lebanese writers to inform her lyrics, using poet Bassem Hajjar's text 'Aykathani Malakon' on the opening and closing tracks, and a work from Paul Chaoul on the blinding 'Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt'. Those ornate Arabic words introduce the track, overlaying the band's frilly Montréal post-rock vibrations and gradually increasing in energy until Chamoun is bellowing manically. On 'Ya Nass', she interpolates a piece from Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish, assuredly slurring over tense, slowcore drums and an animated performance from Kaddour. And on '94', the band get closest to tarab, interrupting the flow with lysergic distorted guitars. The band experiment with more electronic elements on 'Mouathibatti', inserting glassy FM plucks into a slowcore rhythm and Chamoun's devotional coos, and closing track 'Rings' is an ambient jazz odyssey, all blunted synths, evocative bass womps and pinprick percussion. We're floored.