Archive: The Meditterranean Blues

Passionate and Sensual. Hypnotic and Spiritual. Extraordinary sounds have emanated from the Mediterranean Basin for thousands of years. But what is it about this region that produces music that westerners consider so exotic, so very foreign to their ears?

Whether you are listening to an Arab oud (lute), a Turkish ney (flute), or the plaintive wail of a Flamenco cantaor (singer), you can hear the same unmistakable quality. The anguish of slavery, desperation, foreign occupation and forced emigration, still resonates in both the vocal and instrumental melodies. And yet, the pulsing rhythm joyfully defies the heartache, and clearly expresses the urge to dance. Although the suffering of the poor and itinerant people of the Mediterranean has helped shape the character of the music, their optimism and love for life has helped it to grow beyond its simple roots. This is the Mediterranean Blues.

Neophyte listeners of Mediterranean music sometimes say that it sounds a little "out of tune". The pitch bending and sinuous scales characteristic of many styles are almost unknown in the European major/minor system. Unlike guitars and keyboards, many Mediterranean instruments have as many as 24 semi-tones in the same octave where western music finds only twelve. However, we need only open our ears a little wider to encounter music that contains a wealth of harmonic and melodic diversity. Rhythmically, we find beats that are at once complex and compelling; the very source of many timeless dance forms.

Early recordings are scarce, and most of these styles do not use notation, so tracing the evolution of Mediterranean music is difficult. Hundreds, in some cases thousands, of years of maturation and cross-pollination have led to the musics we have today. However, there is a common thread running throughout most of the music, and that is its clear Arabic flavor. This sound permeates the music of Morocco, Algeria, Greece, Turkey, and Andalusia in southern Spain. Our journey into the Mediterranean Blues begins in Morocco, the heart of the Maghreb–the western Arabic world.

Morocco
Moorish Magic

The hot breath of the desert mingles with the Mediterranean sea breeze in the Kingdom of Morocco, where the ancient and the contemporary collide. The result? A vibrant brew of sounds that range from traditional folk songs to digital sampling.

The soul stirring wail of muezzins in towering minarets, calling faithful Muslims to prayer, reveals the spiritual essence of Moroccan music. This sound descends from the Berbers, who populated the entire region prior to the Arab influx. A group of traditional Berber musicians, The Master Musicians of Jajouka, were recorded in the late sixties by Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones. Jones added some psychedelic touches to produce a rather unusually exotic album. More recently, American bassist Bill Laswell produced a fine Jajouka CD, capturing the group's true sound. With the benefit of constant royal patronage, the group continues to thrive under leadership that has been passed down from father to son for centuries. Although this is primarily a male group, Berber musicians and poets are frequently women. The Smithsonian, in cooperation with the Moroccan government, has made a few recordings of Berber women performing ceremonial music, but overall, Berber albums are hard to find.

The Arabic flavor of today's Moroccan music originally developed in Cordoba, Spain, nearly a thousand years ago, when Spain was ruled by the Moors. The Moors were, for the most part, Arabs, although the term remains a bit ambiguous. In the late 1400s, they were driven out of Spain, across the Straits of Gibraltar, and into Africa. They brought with them sounds that would spread throughout the North African and Saharan region, eventually mixing with other styles, and ultimately evolving into the expansive pop scene that Morocco enjoys today.

Morocco's pop music is called chaabi, and, for Moroccans, the term covers almost as much ground as "rock" for Americans. Chaabi comes from the blending of the Gnawa brotherhood style with contemporary European sounds. The Gnawas are descendants of Ethiopian slaves that were brought to Morocco, and they trace their lineage to Sidi Bilal, the first muezzin. Their main instruments are the gimbri and the sentir–three string lutes made of wood and animal hides (often the throat of a camel). Traditional Gnawa music is quite trance inducing, with its hand drums and breathy flute sounds evoking the magic of the desert. In the more pop styles, the bendir (frame drum) and other percussion instruments, electric guitars, synths, and even banjos, join the usual gimbri or sentir, creating an intricate blend of the current with the ancient.

Algeria
The Voice of the Desert

What do you get when you mix one part funk, one part pop, a whole bunch of beats, and some wailing Arabic vocals? You get the sound of modern Algeria–Rai. The word rai roughly translates to "opinion", and rai singers are seldom shy about expressing theirs. With lyrics that are almost always political, grooves that are infectious, and impassioned vocals, Rai is a treat for mind, body and spirit.

The roots of rai reach back to the eventful year of 1492, when throngs of Arabs settled in Algeria, after being expelled from Andalusia. The already well developed sounds of the relocated Arabs, the omnipresent Ottoman and Asian influences, and the added dimension of purely African ideas, proved fertile ground for the growth of a new style. Rai was born in the town of Oran, in western Algeria, and, as was often the case with styles that ultimately became the most popular, it was the music of peasants and laborers.

In a society that has not always held women in the highest regard, it is refreshing that one of the greatest pioneers of rai music was a woman, Cheikha Remitti. Her songs were direct and to the point, with lyrics that were sexually and socially explicit. She boldly defied fundamentalism, and she lent her voice fearlessly to the cause of the Front de Libération National, and the struggle for a free Algeria.

As the social climate changed in the 60s, rai became more palatable to the euro-conscious youth by adopting popular dance beats and western instruments. Pop-rai continued to expand through the music of Cheb Khaled, now known simply as Khaled. He was crowned "King of Rai" at the first rai festival in Oran, not unlike the yearly crowning of the Calypso King in Trinidad. Khaled continues to broaden his musical horizons, and he recently released a wonderful album produced by pop talent Don Was, which includes sounds ranging from traditional rai, to funk and reggae.

Sadly, in 1994, the "Prince of Rai", Cheb Hasni, was assassinated, after a fatwa was decreed by fundamentalist leaders encouraging devotees to eliminate politically troublesome rai musicians. Cheb Hasni’s lyrics speak of youthful love affairs and other taboo subjects, along with thinly veiled criticisms of the fundamentalist faction, the FIS.

Rai continues as a voice for Algeria's oppressed, and its irresistible pop flavor should increase its popularity among music fans everywhere. Although little rai is currently produced in the homeland, artists continue to pump out great music through European studios and labels.

Greece
Would You Laika Some Rembetika?

Okay, remember your 8th grade world history class? (Yeah, sure.) The Ottoman Empire? Well, anyway, it was the major power in the Mediterranean for centuries, and Greece fell under its rule for over four hundred years. As a result, Greece and Turkey share many of the same sounds and instruments, including the kanonáki (zither), sandoúri (hammered dulcimer), and oúti (lute). However, Greece made some contributions to the Mediterranean Blues that were uniquely its own.

In the early 1920s, as the Ottoman reign finally came to a close, over a million Greeks were expelled from Turkey. With neither homes nor jobs, these outcasts formed a sort of urban underworld, replete with hash smokers, criminals, and other social misfits. A new music was born, with lyrics that told the stories of these dispossessed people, and instruments that expressed their struggles. It was called rembétika. Once again, it is interesting that in a very male oriented culture, Rosa Eskenazi, a Greek Jew from Istanbul, and Rita Abatsi, also from Turkey, were true pioneers of the music that later defined the sound and soul of Greece.

In addition to the two ladies, Markos Vamvakaris, leader of the trend-setting Pireas Quartet, and the grandaddy of rembétika, established the throaty vocal sound that Greek singers still emulate. Vassilis Tsitsanis, much more respectable and clean cut than your typical rembétis, began to infuse rembétika with sweeter sounds drawn from the Italian kantádhes (folk songs). As a result, Greek music gained an international audience.

Néo kíma, (new wave), and modern Greek music in general, were spearheaded by musicians like Mikis Theodharakis, best known for the musical score of Zorba the Greek, and Manos Hadzid-hakis, who wrote the music for the movie Never on a Sunday. However, these works have become cliché through proliferation in restaurants and tourist traps, and they neither represent the true soul of Greek music, nor these composers' finest compositions.

From 1967-1974, the military junta closed clubs and studios, and any music that could be deemed radical was officially banned. In order to keep performing, musicians like Dhionisios Savvopoulos employed more mainstream instruments like guitars and strings, along with non-political lyrics, and thus avoided the censors. Greek music was growing even further away from its rembétika roots, and towards laika, or pop music. The king of laika is certainly Yiorgos Dalaras, the Greek Springsteen, who has released dozens of full length albums. Although best known for his pop efforts, he has covered virtually the entire spectrum of Greek music.

A handful of Greek islands retained more of the European flavor in their music, having never been occupied by Turks or Arabs. Most notable of these are the Ionian Islands, whose traditional music bears a resemblance, in both instrumentation and sound, to the music of Italy. Musicians will recognize the name "Ionian" as the modal name of the major scale, the very foundation of European music and theory.

Greek music is plentiful in the West, but beware! There's lots of real syrupy pop muzak out there that has little of the soul of rembétika or good laika. For the real authentic music, look for the inclusion of instruments like the gaïda (bagpipe), pípiza (folk oboe), and the líra (fiddle), in addition to the ever present bouzoúki.

Recommended Listening:

Yiorgos Dalaras
Greek god of pop. Albums range from traditional, to fusions with jazz and even Latin music.

Rosa Eskenazi
Early rembetika. Piercing voice, singing songs of love, cocaine and hashish. Along with
Rita Abatsi, she's hard to find except on compilations.

Vasilis Tsitsanis
A kinder, gentler rembetika. Find the collaborations with singer Sotiria Bellou, a great, almost bluesy vocalist.

Mikis Theodharakis
Big arrangements and orchestration with some folkloric themes.

Turkey
Thundering Drums and Whirling Dervishes

Drums rumble and cymbals crash. In their tall caps and long white gowns, dervishes whirl to the gentle, hypnotic sound of neys (flutes) and fiddles. The sounds of Turkish music run the gamut from the roar of percussion batteries to the whisper of gentle winds. Although similar in some respects to Greek music, the music of Turkey has had a greater impact on the world than one may expect.

European composers like Mozart and Beethoven, and most Romantic composers who followed, featured Turkish forms and sounds in their compositions. The mighty cymbals and drums of Turkish ensembles were appropriated and put to use in the European orchestra. Even now, the world renowned Zildjan cymbals are a staple for drummers of all styles.

Wandering musician-poets, the ashiks, created the Turkish folk music known as halk müzigi. As common folk who sang of love and equality, they were unpopular among the orthodox Muslims, and they have suffered severe persecution to this day. The more urbanized form of this music is türkü, which adds western instruments to halk ensembles that traditionally feature voices and saz, a long-necked lute.

Although very unpatriotic in sound and lyrical content, the arabesque style became hugely popular in the sixties, despite government intervention and scant presence on the airwaves. Orhan Gencebay was the first major star of arabesque, along with Ibrahim Tatlises, Kibariye, and the young Küçük Emrah. Arabesque is wild and brash, with a generous helping of reverb and echo. Other styles, like taverna, developed by borrowing softer ideas from Greek music, and rock hit Turkey in the late fifties. Turkish musicians began to write their own lyrics for popular songs from other nations, and the international influence took hold.

A lot of Turkish music is only available on cassette, and quality is not great, although a few good CD compilations were put together by Folkways and even Columbia. The folk music lacks the excessive reverb typical of contemporary arabesque, and so may be a better place to start. At any rate, there is something for everyone, whether you like virtuoso instrumentalists, or trashy pop singers.

Spain
Gypsy Passion

Some people just know what the blues is all about. The Andalusían Gypsies of southern Spain are such people, and Flamenco is their art and soul. No style captures the essence of the Mediterranean blues in quite the same way.

Wherever they went, the Gypsies never quite escaped persecution and hardship. They initially fled war-torn India in the 15th century, settling first in Giptanos, Egypt, then eastern Europe, and ultimately in Andalusía, Spain. An active guitar-building industry in the area facilitated the choice of this instrument as the mainstay of Flamenco, and Arabic, Gypsy, and European sounds all joined forces to create this fiery new sound.

Flamenco was initially driven by the song, with the intense voice of the cantaor providing the fuel. Human hand clapping, or palmas, along with the guitar, provided the rhythm, and more recently, the fancy footwork of the dance styles was added. Today, the Flamenco guitar by itself has developed into a complete solo instrument. Flamenco has complex rhythms, often 12 beats per measure, a referential compas rhythm (like the Latin clave), and different accents and variations to avoid repetitiveness.

Recently, many of us have become familiar with the Flamenco sound through the emergence of some popular Flamenco based artists such as The Gipsy Kings and Ottmar Leibert, whose record sales number in the millions. Although many purists may bristle at this "corruption" of the pure art of Flamenco, it is sure to lead some people to the source, much as Paul Simon's dabblings with African and Brazilian music led many people to buy albums from Ladysmith Black Mambazo and Olodum. The incomparable Flamenco guitarist, Paco de Lucia, has successfully flirted with jazz and other styles, and even the most staunch purists would not deny him his due as one of the kings of true Flamenco guitar. Check out recordings by Sabicas, Ramún Montoya, Vicente Amigo and Tomatito for some incredible guitar work, and Camarón de la Isla and Carmen Linares for vocals. Flamenco is a real treat when you see it live. Colorful costumed dancers, blazing guitar runs, and the pounding percussion of hands and feet cannot help but stir your passions. Flamenco groups perform extensively throughout the West, and there are ample recordings available. So go out and get a dose of some Gypsy soul.

Hopefully, this brief overview has piqued your interest, and you're ready to rush out and buy dozens of new CDs. But where do you start? Living in New York City, I'm privileged to be able to find a wealth of international music simply by visiting the neighborhoods that are home to large ethnic populations. There is no better place, short of Athens, to buy Greek music than Astoria, Queens. If you want West Indian music, visit Brooklyn. Cumbia? Visit Corona. But since not everyone lives in New York City (although it seems like it) here are some recommended sources.

If you have a large chain in your area, like HMV or Tower, they usually have decent international music sections. Collections and samplers are a good place to start, since they will give you a taste of several flavors, some background info, and usually an attempt is made to clean up the recording quality. A number of labels are known for their international music, such as Mango, Shanacie, Folkways, Earthworks, Lryichord, Stern, Real World, Rounder, and Rykodisk, and most major labels put out collections, reissues, samplers and the like. New York's World Music Institute carries an impressive catalogue of international music, and The Rough Guide to World Music, as well as the Virgin Directory of World Music are indispensable sources for information and discography. Shops that feature art, clothing or food from particular countries frequently stock a small but well chosen supply of representative music. Embassies and cultural councils always have info on when performers of their country are playing in your area. And of course, you can find anything in the world on the Web. Upon doing a search for Algerian Rai, I was astonished to turn up over 14,000 entries, many of which offer downloadable soundbites.

One last word on the raging battle between the purists and the fusionists. Coupling modern concepts with traditional ethnic sounds, while denounced by some, is a fact of musical life. Fortunately, there will always be those who preserve music in its original form, as well as those who foster progress by expanding the boundaries. The early Beatles and Stones built upon American rhythm and blues, The Police added reggae to rock, Beethoven expanded on the musical language of Mozart, and Stravinsky built upon the foundation of Beethoven. Such is the nature of music. Really, there is no need for either side to criticize the other, since music itself embraces the whole. The breadth of the musical world can only be completely appreciated by accepting traditionalism, experimentalism, and all that exists between.

The Mediterranean Blues, like its American cousin, grew out of a vast mixture of cultural, religious and musical ideas. It wouldn't be as exciting and diverse had it happened any other way. The Blues cuts across all boundaries, and reveals a common ground between all musicians, and, in fact, between all people. So pick up some rai, some rembétika, or anything else that grabs you, and experience the Mediterranean Blues for yourself. Peace, love
and music!

Michael Barry is a freelance musician, composer and writer based in New York. He teaches at the American Institute of Guitar and has recently released a solo guitar CD, Inscape, on the Tess label.

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