music. Dr. Salti talked about what he argues is a very powerful example of
indie musicians subverting both gender and sexuality norms, through their
usage of the word “habibi” (Arabic for “my love”). “In early Arabic music,
even before the advent of Islam in the Arabian peninsula, male poets
would write Arabic poetry where they would elevate the status of a
woman, who was considered inferior, by referring to her with male
pronouns” Dr. Salti said. Thus in classic 20th century Arabic music, and
Arabic pop music today, a man romantically addresses a woman using the
masculine form “habibi.” This is a tradition some artists, such as Iraqi
singer and musician Kathem Al-Saher, are attempting to overturn by using
the modern standard arabic female form “habibti” instead. Kathem refers
to his lover entirely in the feminine on his CD “Habibati Wal Matar.” But
additionally, some male indie artists, such as Lebanese band Mashrou’
Leila (whose lead singer Hamed Sinno is openly gay) are asking how a
man can address another man romantically, so as to make it clear that he
is talking about a male love interest, in songs like “Habibi.”
Indie Arabic music also helps connect listeners of today’s generation to
music of the “golden age.” The indie artists accomplish this in new ways,
that some musical purists may find abhorrent: remixing and restyling
classic, traditional music into different genres like folk, electronica, even
opera, all in what is considered Western styles. Dr. Salti says the way they
rework these songs breathes new life into them and expands the world of
meaning that can be attached to them beyond their era. Zeina Barhoum’s
opera rework of Fairouz’s "Flowers of the City,” for example, a song about
the Palestinian’s loss of Jerusalem, is one of the first modern covers of
this song to be considered just as good as the original by contemporary
audiences, and which they felt spoke very well to the suffering of the
people in the Arab world today.
In Arabic indie music, we find that the visuals do not shy from
representing some of the some of the content of these hardships. The
power of this work comes in its ability to translate the lived reality of
people in the region into the intentional discomfort and agitation one feels
watching these dramatic, distressing visuals. Dr Salti talked about El
Morabba3’s music video for “El Mokhtalifeen,” which loosely translates to
“Those who are different,” whose avant-garde, grotesque visuals stand in
sharp contrast to the “perfect” images and polished starlets of the
mainstream Arabic music videos. Dr. Salti highlighted the Lebanese singer
Yasmine Hamdan’s single, “Nediya,” referring to the dewiness of a rose.