Accrassicauda has come a long way from the wannabe posers that they were in their pre-2003 gigs, they are pissed off, hungry, and are plugging their anger in the music, it shows.
While I'm not really interested outside of novelty value, I do respect their dedication, their growing professionalism and their new hair.
Showing posts with label guitar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guitar. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Ode to Zai
More and more Iraqi heavy metal is grac(z)ing the web, I wouldn't really post about it except that most recently videos of who I called early in my blog "Iraqi Metal Supernode" Saad Zai are popping up all over YouTube.
Saad Zai (which rhymes with Steve Vai) was a man of slim build who looked many years younger than his age, like most Assyrians he was nice and friendly, but there was something about him, while he usually smiles politely and responded to jokes in kind, I've never seen him break into sincere laughter, suggesting some sort of morose attitude to the world in general, my impression of him was the cliched nice and naive Christian padded with a peculiar strand of streetwise Iraqi cynicism that he seemed to have picked up to make him pass as more than cursorily nice, most of his jokes (all in deadpan) were pretty original and witty , producing a somewhat interesting blend of character. He was universally admired, but I must admit that my time with him wasn't really something I'd remember fondly, and I don't think he'd remember me either, except for my scowl. The reason for said scowl is that after having taught myself guitar from the internet for the first seven months or so I decided to get a few lessons out of him, so I'd go over his messy shop which always looked like it was hit by an RPG (sadly, it was really hit by an RPG a few months after I left Iraq, but our man - who has renal failure - miraculously emerged from the rubble.) I'd go in confident in my abilities and he would give me crap about how I would make a "fine beggar" احسن مكدي with my hand position, and I would return home, unconvinced and frustrated, after a long time, of course, I realized that he was right. Some people (well, Anarki-13) have said that Zai is the best guitarist in the Middle East, see for yourself:
These terrible recordings depressingly eclipse his talent, and they are a fitting representation of what Iraqi Heavy Metal looked like: a messy, uncertain haze.
Fur Elise
Original Track:
Spiritual
Bach
There's also some other interesting Iraqi guitar videos on YouTube, here's a guy I know vaguley playing Canon Rock.
More interestingly, here's a beautiful Iraqi girl playing beautiful Iraqi folklore on classical guitar.
You may also want to check out the group Sumer, which is composed of Scandinavian singers singing Iraqi folk songs, directed by an Iraqi musician named Talal, the result is quite amazing.
I'm composing a list on the sidebar for all the Iraqi guitar I find on YouTube, it's going to be up soon.
Saad Zai (which rhymes with Steve Vai) was a man of slim build who looked many years younger than his age, like most Assyrians he was nice and friendly, but there was something about him, while he usually smiles politely and responded to jokes in kind, I've never seen him break into sincere laughter, suggesting some sort of morose attitude to the world in general, my impression of him was the cliched nice and naive Christian padded with a peculiar strand of streetwise Iraqi cynicism that he seemed to have picked up to make him pass as more than cursorily nice, most of his jokes (all in deadpan) were pretty original and witty , producing a somewhat interesting blend of character. He was universally admired, but I must admit that my time with him wasn't really something I'd remember fondly, and I don't think he'd remember me either, except for my scowl. The reason for said scowl is that after having taught myself guitar from the internet for the first seven months or so I decided to get a few lessons out of him, so I'd go over his messy shop which always looked like it was hit by an RPG (sadly, it was really hit by an RPG a few months after I left Iraq, but our man - who has renal failure - miraculously emerged from the rubble.) I'd go in confident in my abilities and he would give me crap about how I would make a "fine beggar" احسن مكدي with my hand position, and I would return home, unconvinced and frustrated, after a long time, of course, I realized that he was right. Some people (well, Anarki-13) have said that Zai is the best guitarist in the Middle East, see for yourself:
These terrible recordings depressingly eclipse his talent, and they are a fitting representation of what Iraqi Heavy Metal looked like: a messy, uncertain haze.
Fur Elise
Original Track:
Spiritual
Bach
There's also some other interesting Iraqi guitar videos on YouTube, here's a guy I know vaguley playing Canon Rock.
More interestingly, here's a beautiful Iraqi girl playing beautiful Iraqi folklore on classical guitar.
You may also want to check out the group Sumer, which is composed of Scandinavian singers singing Iraqi folk songs, directed by an Iraqi musician named Talal, the result is quite amazing.
I'm composing a list on the sidebar for all the Iraqi guitar I find on YouTube, it's going to be up soon.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Guitar Medley: An artifact of the 'good' times
I got a recording of a medley of Iraqi songs I did with Nabil earlier this year, I think May. I'm on vocals and classical rhythm while he's on solo acoustic...What's amazing about it is that it had brought back to me a flood of good memories and nostalgia, it was only May this year!!! Did it really change that much?
This recording was done a month before the graduation party, I had an idea that I would do some sort of mini-concert and I needed a back-up player, this was a time when I thought I could persuade Nabil, a proficient player in his own right, to play with me, I did it with somebody else in the end and it was a great step down from what I had in mind, but still...in some ways, this is a hallmark for one of the best days of my life, if not THE best ever, the graduation day, this was before my friends were killed, before several other things happened that made me hate my country and everything that is in it...
and also, it reminded of a part of myself that I thought was fading, my musical self, it's amazing how a person can change in such a short time, back then, I took myself seriously on the guitar and I was really convinced that I had a passable voice (evidently not, as u can see here -), after repeated tries, I found out that doing any musical project in Iraq surely not work out (not just because of the condition, the audience itself is largely unreceptive and would rather laugh first and throw tomatoes second)...but this short clip, in all its mistakes and amateurish charm, has somehow resurged my interest in guitar as not just something to attract chicas with.
It is a medley of five traditional Iraqi songs, thanks to Ilham al-Madfa'ie, a popular Iraqi artist whose mean feat is transcribing folk songs to western arrangements, they've been done to death on guitar, it's like a Stairway To Heaven for Iraqi musicians, you have to play them at one point or the other: Mohammed Boya Mohammed (Mohammed My Son Mohammed), Fog El Na Khal (Up There We Have A Lover), S'ghayeron (Little One) - perhaps the most sell-out song ever due to the fact that guys like Bashar al-Kaysi have sung it, and Bayn el Asir wil Maghrib (Between the Afternoon & Sunset), I didn't know the lyrics at the time for that last song, and being the naughty person that I am, have replaced them with a high-school rhyme that is lewd in a polite way (The Haji Returned From Mecca).
Nabil sings on S'ghayeron too.... Enjoy
This recording was done a month before the graduation party, I had an idea that I would do some sort of mini-concert and I needed a back-up player, this was a time when I thought I could persuade Nabil, a proficient player in his own right, to play with me, I did it with somebody else in the end and it was a great step down from what I had in mind, but still...in some ways, this is a hallmark for one of the best days of my life, if not THE best ever, the graduation day, this was before my friends were killed, before several other things happened that made me hate my country and everything that is in it...
and also, it reminded of a part of myself that I thought was fading, my musical self, it's amazing how a person can change in such a short time, back then, I took myself seriously on the guitar and I was really convinced that I had a passable voice (evidently not, as u can see here -), after repeated tries, I found out that doing any musical project in Iraq surely not work out (not just because of the condition, the audience itself is largely unreceptive and would rather laugh first and throw tomatoes second)...but this short clip, in all its mistakes and amateurish charm, has somehow resurged my interest in guitar as not just something to attract chicas with.
It is a medley of five traditional Iraqi songs, thanks to Ilham al-Madfa'ie, a popular Iraqi artist whose mean feat is transcribing folk songs to western arrangements, they've been done to death on guitar, it's like a Stairway To Heaven for Iraqi musicians, you have to play them at one point or the other: Mohammed Boya Mohammed (Mohammed My Son Mohammed), Fog El Na Khal (Up There We Have A Lover), S'ghayeron (Little One) - perhaps the most sell-out song ever due to the fact that guys like Bashar al-Kaysi have sung it, and Bayn el Asir wil Maghrib (Between the Afternoon & Sunset), I didn't know the lyrics at the time for that last song, and being the naughty person that I am, have replaced them with a high-school rhyme that is lewd in a polite way (The Haji Returned From Mecca).
Nabil sings on S'ghayeron too.... Enjoy
Monday, April 10, 2006
Freedom's 3rd Birthday, and Happy Birthday, Prophet Mohammed!
"I was born in the cemetery
under the sign of the moon
raised from my grave
burned dead
and I was made a mercenary
in the legions of hell
now I'm king of pain
I'm insane"
- King Diamond
(Music: Sami Yusuf - Al Muallim)
Prophet Mohammed (Peace be upon him) was born in Mecca in the Sixth Century year of 570 AD, in the year known as the Year Of The Elephant, by the time when he was 40, he frequently spent time alone in a cave known as Huraa cave, when the Angel Garbiel desecended upon him with the first words of the Holy Quraan, signaling the beginning of Islam which spread onward to the rest of the world yadda yadda yadda and they married and lived happily ever after.
Now to important stuff.
Oblivious to everything as always and at 5 PM today, I was in my room pretending to study for my B.Sc but actually trying to get some highly inconveniently placed hairs in my nose, when I was subtly entranced by an array of sounds that pretty much resembled a mighty crash of so many kettles, teapots, and some other assorted faux-aluminum pans and pots all crashing together at the same time. Word? turns out it's the Birthday Surprise Party for Prophet Mohammed at the local mosque...usually at this time of day the mosque would broadcast subtle Quraan readings way until the Sunset (Maghrib) prayer but today they apparently hurled out the nearest cassette they can find of Prophet Praise, which I think was recorded in a kitchen. the guys in the scene were taking his Birthday as a subtle excuse for dancing the life out, 15 minutes onward, I just couldn't take it anymore and decided to join in the celebration my own way, by locking the room tight and shedding out my Gibson Airguitar Extravaganza and accessory
longhair wig for a lean'n'mean session of headbanging classics, a ritual I haven't done in a looong time, this is the only reason for the Mercyful Fate quote headlining this post.
Shortly afterwards though, power went down, silencing pretty much everyone.
The festival brought back some fond long-buried memories, too. Back in 1995, when I was a wee 12 years old, I was also, ahem, now this might shock you, but...I was a mosque enchanter.
* THE SECRET LIFE OF KONFUSED KID THE MOSQUE LEAD SINGER*
(Music : Led Zeppelin - What Is and What Never Should Be)
WHAM? SLAM? BAM? true, at the pristine age of 12 - my parents, both religiously committed, enlisted me at the local mosque to learn Chapter 30, the easiest one, of the Koran by heart - amongst other local kids, as the days approached the Birthday, we sensed some kind of frenzy amongst the mosque administration, turns out the mosques engaged in giving out some kinda 'activities' to cememorate the day, one of which included Islamic chants, so they took our group (some 6 students) and gave us some Islamic chants to chant, pretty soon, they discovered me - I had a good singing voice - and that I know all the Holy Names of God, a chant I figured in my childhood, and pretty soon I was made lead singer of the band.
This starts a tour amongst lots and lots of mosques in the area that pretty much lasted a month, we would chant for a bit and then I'd do my piece, only to be rewarded afterwards by a large dish of KOOZI (rice and lamb meat, amongst other niceties) which we would eat by hand like some hungry sons of bitches who's never tasted anything for the whole year, and there were some weird days, the first performance, we were gathered early for the chant so we decided to spend some time by playing soccer, luckily, there was a beautiful garden nearby where we could play much more nicely than the usual streets, to avoid tearing up our dishdasha (traditional Muslim white-cloth), unfortunately, after an hour-long of fights, curses (lots of which were
directed at God and all that is holy, as pretty much all street soccer matches are), and slide tackles, we ended up looking like....SHIT...that's all I could say, our white ironed dishdashas looked now like army camouflage with so many grass-brown stripes, and we were supposed to perform now.We did it anyway....them were days, but now the band's broken apart and everybody's gone their separate ways, no more touring for these bad, sad Afghan version of the backstreet boys...
* END *
Baby, if this ain't turning into a nice old Islamic Republic of Iraq...spitting image of its sister eastward - I am sure u noticed I'm kinda cranky at the subject, not that I mean any disrespect for the holy prophet (much to the annoyance of some of my marauding friends) but I am so sick and tired of these fucking religious ceremonies, Death of Hussein, ha, we got the Birth Of Mohammed, and all these Shiite visitors can't wait to visit Imam Ali to 'congratulate him on the birth of the prophet', as if they're both real, breathing persons and not old long-gone 7th century dudes.
(Music : Iron Maiden - The Evil That Men Do)
In reality, I think this festival is incorrect by its own right, and I think the prophet wouldn't approve of it if he was amongst it, there are only two 100% certified festivites in Islam : Eid Al-Adha and Eid Al-Fitr, all else is bid3a (creative balooney).
Crikey, verily.
Today, the prophet just made his 1436 birthday, damn that's a lot of candles, if we were to make a cake, I think people would be pretty much eating the wax off the 1436 candles than anything else. and what can we bring as presents anyway?
and of course there's that oh-so-adorable part-time hooker TV broadcaster on such cheap call-quiz Satellite stations such as STRIKE TV, who offered important statements that shed much-
needed light on the ceremony today :و
مرسي خالص للله و لحالكن و بنقول للنبي الكريم هابي برثداي
There sister, you just made yourself a hassana, may Allah put u in Janna.
And the answer to the riddle is an Ostrich, dammit, a fuckin' Ostrich.
Should i just call?
Ow, who cares!
Happy Birthday, Prophet Mohammed!
(MUSIC : Happy Birthday To You)
**************
In other news, today marks Freedom's 3rd year, she now knows how to walk and talk and is still stumbling through her first words way beyond normal age for talking, yesterday she almost spit out 'roadside bomb' and 'armed car with big boo-boo', Freedom looked pretty darn cute on the first days, but these days she's turning into a real ugly boar, we avoid looking in her face most of the time, her teeth are falling apart and something is growing at her nostrils, we are seriously considering dumping her at the nearest trash-joint...
If Saddam died these nearby days, I think the gravestone should read:
BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW.
and he'd be glad, that son-of-a-gun.
Anyway,
Happy Birthday, Freedom! ....
(MUSIC : Mawtini)
under the sign of the moon
raised from my grave
burned dead
and I was made a mercenary
in the legions of hell
now I'm king of pain
I'm insane"
- King Diamond
(Music: Sami Yusuf - Al Muallim)
Prophet Mohammed (Peace be upon him) was born in Mecca in the Sixth Century year of 570 AD, in the year known as the Year Of The Elephant, by the time when he was 40, he frequently spent time alone in a cave known as Huraa cave, when the Angel Garbiel desecended upon him with the first words of the Holy Quraan, signaling the beginning of Islam which spread onward to the rest of the world yadda yadda yadda and they married and lived happily ever after.
Now to important stuff.
Oblivious to everything as always and at 5 PM today, I was in my room pretending to study for my B.Sc but actually trying to get some highly inconveniently placed hairs in my nose, when I was subtly entranced by an array of sounds that pretty much resembled a mighty crash of so many kettles, teapots, and some other assorted faux-aluminum pans and pots all crashing together at the same time. Word? turns out it's the Birthday Surprise Party for Prophet Mohammed at the local mosque...usually at this time of day the mosque would broadcast subtle Quraan readings way until the Sunset (Maghrib) prayer but today they apparently hurled out the nearest cassette they can find of Prophet Praise, which I think was recorded in a kitchen. the guys in the scene were taking his Birthday as a subtle excuse for dancing the life out, 15 minutes onward, I just couldn't take it anymore and decided to join in the celebration my own way, by locking the room tight and shedding out my Gibson Airguitar Extravaganza and accessory
longhair wig for a lean'n'mean session of headbanging classics, a ritual I haven't done in a looong time, this is the only reason for the Mercyful Fate quote headlining this post.
Shortly afterwards though, power went down, silencing pretty much everyone.
The festival brought back some fond long-buried memories, too. Back in 1995, when I was a wee 12 years old, I was also, ahem, now this might shock you, but...I was a mosque enchanter.
* THE SECRET LIFE OF KONFUSED KID THE MOSQUE LEAD SINGER*
(Music : Led Zeppelin - What Is and What Never Should Be)
WHAM? SLAM? BAM? true, at the pristine age of 12 - my parents, both religiously committed, enlisted me at the local mosque to learn Chapter 30, the easiest one, of the Koran by heart - amongst other local kids, as the days approached the Birthday, we sensed some kind of frenzy amongst the mosque administration, turns out the mosques engaged in giving out some kinda 'activities' to cememorate the day, one of which included Islamic chants, so they took our group (some 6 students) and gave us some Islamic chants to chant, pretty soon, they discovered me - I had a good singing voice - and that I know all the Holy Names of God, a chant I figured in my childhood, and pretty soon I was made lead singer of the band.
This starts a tour amongst lots and lots of mosques in the area that pretty much lasted a month, we would chant for a bit and then I'd do my piece, only to be rewarded afterwards by a large dish of KOOZI (rice and lamb meat, amongst other niceties) which we would eat by hand like some hungry sons of bitches who's never tasted anything for the whole year, and there were some weird days, the first performance, we were gathered early for the chant so we decided to spend some time by playing soccer, luckily, there was a beautiful garden nearby where we could play much more nicely than the usual streets, to avoid tearing up our dishdasha (traditional Muslim white-cloth), unfortunately, after an hour-long of fights, curses (lots of which were
directed at God and all that is holy, as pretty much all street soccer matches are), and slide tackles, we ended up looking like....SHIT...that's all I could say, our white ironed dishdashas looked now like army camouflage with so many grass-brown stripes, and we were supposed to perform now.We did it anyway....them were days, but now the band's broken apart and everybody's gone their separate ways, no more touring for these bad, sad Afghan version of the backstreet boys...
* END *
Baby, if this ain't turning into a nice old Islamic Republic of Iraq...spitting image of its sister eastward - I am sure u noticed I'm kinda cranky at the subject, not that I mean any disrespect for the holy prophet (much to the annoyance of some of my marauding friends) but I am so sick and tired of these fucking religious ceremonies, Death of Hussein, ha, we got the Birth Of Mohammed, and all these Shiite visitors can't wait to visit Imam Ali to 'congratulate him on the birth of the prophet', as if they're both real, breathing persons and not old long-gone 7th century dudes.
(Music : Iron Maiden - The Evil That Men Do)
In reality, I think this festival is incorrect by its own right, and I think the prophet wouldn't approve of it if he was amongst it, there are only two 100% certified festivites in Islam : Eid Al-Adha and Eid Al-Fitr, all else is bid3a (creative balooney).
Crikey, verily.
Today, the prophet just made his 1436 birthday, damn that's a lot of candles, if we were to make a cake, I think people would be pretty much eating the wax off the 1436 candles than anything else. and what can we bring as presents anyway?
and of course there's that oh-so-adorable part-time hooker TV broadcaster on such cheap call-quiz Satellite stations such as STRIKE TV, who offered important statements that shed much-
needed light on the ceremony today :و
مرسي خالص للله و لحالكن و بنقول للنبي الكريم هابي برثداي
There sister, you just made yourself a hassana, may Allah put u in Janna.
And the answer to the riddle is an Ostrich, dammit, a fuckin' Ostrich.
Should i just call?
Ow, who cares!
Happy Birthday, Prophet Mohammed!
(MUSIC : Happy Birthday To You)
**************
In other news, today marks Freedom's 3rd year, she now knows how to walk and talk and is still stumbling through her first words way beyond normal age for talking, yesterday she almost spit out 'roadside bomb' and 'armed car with big boo-boo', Freedom looked pretty darn cute on the first days, but these days she's turning into a real ugly boar, we avoid looking in her face most of the time, her teeth are falling apart and something is growing at her nostrils, we are seriously considering dumping her at the nearest trash-joint...
If Saddam died these nearby days, I think the gravestone should read:
BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW.
and he'd be glad, that son-of-a-gun.
Anyway,
Happy Birthday, Freedom! ....
(MUSIC : Mawtini)
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