Cheeni is on vacation and shouldn't be reading any email. I think Udhay is referring to this friend of mine who is the lead singer in a rock band in PK. They have been around for a few years now and perform on stage once in a while, and quite often at the Dunkin Donuts in Islamabad - yes, you read correctly, DD is the centre of western culture thereabouts.
I don' think there's anything fundamentally wrong with metal that it can't coexist with Islam, unless you consider that Islam dislikes music on general principle. Original message - This was posted to another list I follow, and I found... Sent from Gmail for mobile On 7/14/08, Udhay Shankar N <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > This was posted to another list I follow, and I found it fascinating. I > suspect Cheeni and Chris Kelty (among various others) will have more to > say on this. > > Udhay > > > http://chronicle. com/weekly/ v54/i43/43b00801 .htm > ============ ========= > Muslim Metal > > Bands crank up multiculturalism in the Islamic world > > By MARK LEVINE > > The first time I heard the words "heavy metal" and "Islam" in the > same sentence, I was confused, to say the least. It was around 5 p.m. on > a hot July day in the city of Fez, Morocco. I was at the bar of a > five-star hotel with a group of friends having a drink — at $25 a piece, > only one — to celebrate a birthday. The person sitting across from me > described a punk performance he had seen in Rabat not long before we had > met. > > The idea of a young Moroccan with a Mohawk and a Scottish kilt > almost caused me to spill my drink. > > That the possibility of a Muslim heavy-metal scene came as a total > surprise to me only underscored how much I still had to learn about > Morocco, and the Muslim world more broadly, even after a dozen years > studying it, and traveling and living across it. If there could be such > a thing as a heavy-metal Islam, I thought, then perhaps the future was > far brighter than most observers of the Muslim world imagined less than > a year after September 11, 2001. > > I shouldn't have been surprised. Muslim history is full of > characters and movements that seemed far out of the mainstream in their > day but that nevertheless helped bring about far-reaching changes in > their societies. As I nursed my drink, I contemplated the various > musical, cultural, and political permutations that could be produced by > combining Islam and hard rock. I began to wonder: What could Muslim > metal artists and their fans teach us about the state of Islam today? > > Their imagination, openness to the world, and the courage of their > convictions remind us that Muslim as well as Western cultures are more > heterogeneous, complex, and ultimately alike than the peddlers of the > clash of civilizations, the war on terror, and unending jihad would have > us believe. It might seem counterintuitive to Americans, whose image of > Islam and the contemporary Muslim world come largely from the Fox or CNN > cable channels, but an 18-year-old from Casablanca who loves hip-hop or > a 20-year-old from Dubai with spiked hair are as representative of the > world of Islam today as the Muslims who look and act the way we expect > them to. They can be just as radical, if not more so, in their religious > beliefs and politics as their peers who spend their days in the mosque, > madrassa, or even Al Qaeda training camp. > > The University of Chicago music professor Philip Bohlman argues > that music's impact extends far beyond the cultural realm for two > reasons. First, because more than any other cultural product, music > reflects, even amplifies, the larger social, political, and economic > dynamics of a society. Second, because political and economic power > inevitably have "an aesthetic property" that mobilizes listeners into > action. The same music can be amplified in very different ways: Heavy > metal and hard-core rap are blasted by soldiers going into battle, and > bombarded at prisoners as part of "enhanced interrogation. " But when > the metal or rap is played by young people trying to resist and even > transcend oppressive governments or societies, its power and potential > are much more positive, reverberating afar. > > Ever since 9/11, strategists and commentators on the Middle East > have become obsessed with Islam's demographics; namely, that young > people constitute a far higher percentage of the Muslim world's > population in the Middle East and North Africa — upward of 65 percent, > depending on the age bracket and country — than in any other region of > the world. These teenagers, twentysomethings, and thirtysomethings are > not just the future of Islam; they're ours as well. That's why it's so > important to listen to what young Muslims, and particularly those on the > cultural cutting edge, are playing and saying. > > Indeed, if the wide variety of music listened to by young people > across the region is any indication, its future will be as diverse as > its rock scenes: mainstream and underground, religious and secular, > Sunni and Shiite, Christian and Jewish as well as Muslim. Governments in > the Middle East and North Africa are naturally wary of the political > potential of such hybrid cultural spaces and projects. They understand > as well as the region's metalheads and hip-hoppers that the presence of > heavy metal, other Euro-American forms of hard pop music, and other > forms of alternative culture can threaten the established order. > > Talking to Muslim heavy-metal, rock, hip-hop, and even punk artists > and fans, listening to their music, and exploring their interactions > with their families, neighbors, and larger societies reveals the > Janus-faced nature of globalization. Globalization has long gotten a bad > rap in the Muslim world, and among many citizens of the West as well. > The reality is much more ambiguous: It's true that globalization has > reinforced the economic and political marginalization of most of the > Middle East and North Africa, generating various forms of negative, > resistance identities in response. But it also has enabled, in fact > encouraged, greater cultural openness, communication, and solidarity > across the region, and between Muslims and the West. > > Nowhere is globalization' s positive potential more evident than in > the media and popular culture of the region today. Globalization may > have brought Baywatch, late-night German soft-core porn, and Britney > Spears to the Middle East; but it also brought Al-Jazeera, Iron Maiden, > and Tupac Shakur. If the region functions as the primary global source > of petroleum, arms purchases, and jihadis, it is also home to some of > the most innovative cultural products and political discourses of the > global era. And most of the people I've met are as discriminating in > what they pick and choose from the innumerable cultural and political > choices offered by globalization as the average American. In fact, they > are often more open to new ideas or products that challenge their > identities and sensibilities. They have to be; the cultural and > political chauvinism that has been the source of so much of America's > troubles since 9/11 is not a luxury they can afford. > > Metalheads and rappers were among the first Middle Eastern > communities to plug into the globalized cultural networks that emerged > in the late 1980s. From the start, some have been fanatical about > replicating the sound and styles of the American and European > progenitors of metal or rap. Others gleefully violate the boundaries > separating the global from the local, the religiously appropriate from > the secularly profane, the exotic from the mundane, and the hip from > what those in the know deride as hopelessly outdated. > > Cultural sophistication and musical innovation are not traits > normally associated with heavy metal. Indeed, say "heavy metal" to the > average American or European, and you are likely to conjure up an image > of slightly deranged-looking white guys with long, crimped blond hair > and leather outfits, whose primary talents are sleeping with underage > girls and destroying hotel rooms. Certainly there were plenty of bands > like that, especially in the inglorious days of 1980s glam metal. But to > define a genre as rich and varied as heavy metal by its MTV-lite version > is equivalent to defining 1.5 billion Muslims by a few thousand turban- > and djellaba-wearing jihadis running around Pakistan's North-West > Frontier Province hunting infidels and apostates. Both have given their > respective cultures a very bad name, and deservedly so. But each > constitutes only a small minority of believers. > > The term "heavy metal" was coined in an early 1970s Rolling Stone > interview by Alice Cooper, the patron saint of extreme rock. Metal was > influenced by a range of musical styles, from the counterpoint of Johann > Sebastian Bach and the modern classical repertoire he helped to create > to the riff-driven, often equally virtuosic blues rock of Led Zeppelin, > Cream, Jimi Hendrix, and Deep Purple. But if there's one band that is > most responsible for the sound of heavy metal, it's Black Sabbath. In > the early 1970s, Sabbath produced a series of albums that literally > defined a new genre. The band's combination of relatively slow tempos, > heavily distorted guitar riffs in various minor modes, halftone and even > tritone modulations (known since the Renaissance as the diabolus in > musica because of the immoral, even lustful feelings it was thought to > encourage), and morbid, death-inspired lyrics spoke to disaffected > American and European youth. As guitarist Tony Iommi said about the > blighted working-class landscape of his youth, "It made [the music] more > mean." > > By 1975 a new style of metal emerged, dubbed the New Wave of > British Heavy Metal. Led by bands like Judas Priest, Motorhead, Venom, > and Iron Maiden, the genre was distinguished by the increased speed and > musical complexity of the songs, and also by an explicitly working-class > image that fitted the painful process of deindustrialization and > economic adjustment experienced by working-class communities in Britain > and the United States in the mid-to late 1970s. Some of the bands, > particularly Def Leppard, played up their sexuality, starting a trend > that would become central to 1980s glam or hair metal. > > When you hang out with metalheads in Casablanca or Lahore, however, > you'll rarely hear names like Motley Crüe, Warrant, Poison, or other MTV > hair-metal icons. Instead, bands like Metallica, Slayer, Deicide, > Cannibal Corpse, Possessed, Angel, and other American and Scandinavian > inheritors of British metal's New Wave captured the ears and > imaginations of musicians and fans alike. Those bands created a style of > music that was faster and far more intense, powerful, distorted, and > technically difficult than any form of rock 'n' roll before it. Their > music arrived in the region via flight attendants who spent their > layovers trolling alternative- record shops, expats home for visits from > the United States or Europe, local record stores that sold illegal music > under the counter, and the occasional courageous radio DJ. > > Together, death metal and its sister subgenres of black metal > (which in contrast to death metal features screamed rather than growled > vocals and often deals with explicitly Satanic themes), goth, doom, > grind, grind-core, progressive, and ultimately nu-metal reshaped the > musical landscape of the Middle East and North Africa. Uniting all those > genres was the discipline it took to play them correctly at super-fast > tempos, and the violent, war-laden themes that dominated their lyrics. > As one Israeli black-metal artist put it, "You play black metal like a > warrior." Many bands, most notably Iron Maiden, designed their album > covers and stage shows around the warrior image, although their warriors > looked more like orks from The Lord of the Rings than the clean-shaven > and telegenic young soldiers appearing in commercials for the U.S. armed > forces. > > Indeed, the warrior allusion is a bit ironic, since with the > exception of Satanic metal, most of the violence in heavy metal is > depicted as part of a critique of the violence of society at large, > especially its warlike propensities. It might be hard to imagine when > watching Ozzy Osbourne stumble around semi-incoherently in his pajamas > on his MTV reality show, but in its early days his band Black Sabbath > could be a very political band, exemplified by its seminal song "War > Pigs," which railed against "Generals gathered in their masses/just like > witches at black masses." > > Today the aggressive nature of extreme rock and rap have won fans > across the Middle East and North Africa, where young people are facing > economic conditions not very different from those endured by their > counterparts in America and Britain a generation or two ago — except > that they have the added burden of facing political oppression. Against > both, the metal and rap fans are converting their musical communities > into spaces where they can carve out a bit of autonomy, if not freedom, > within which they can imagine alternatives to the status quo. > > Metal or hip-hop musicians are at the center of the anxieties and > hopes of what could be called "Islam's generations X through Next": > Muslims in their teenage years through their late 30s. As a percentage > of the population of most Muslim countries, that demographic, > particularly its younger members, is close to twice as large as its > counterparts in the United States or Europe. Its musicians tend to be > more educated, informed, and socially active than their Western > counterparts. > > During the last decade of traveling across the Muslim world, I have > met musicians, activists, scholars, Islamists, and ordinary people in > more than a dozen countries, including Morocco, Egypt, Israel, > Palestine, Lebanon, Turkey, Iraq, Iran, countries in the Persian Gulf, > and Pakistan. That is a wide swath, home to upward of 500 million > people; but that's still only a third of the Muslim world. Muslim metal, > hip-hop, and other forms of pop music continue all the way to Indonesia. > > Like heavy metal, hip-hop, and other macho forms of music in the > West, in the Muslim world these genres tend to be dominated by men, > whether musicians or fans. The problem is so acute that the brochure for > a 2006 rock and hip-hop festival in Morocco included an open letter from > one of the female organizers titled "Girls Wanted." But as one female > artist lamented to me, as long as it's considered immoral, or at least > unsafe, for young women to go out on their own to concerts, let alone to > be on the stage playing "Satanic music," it will be men who make up the > majority of metal musicians and fans in the Muslim world. > > Extreme-music scenes also reveal a thriving secular Islam. Contrary > to what most Westerners and conservative Muslims think, there are plenty > of secular Muslims, even in Saudi Arabia and Iran. Some are in fact > atheists, or at least agnostic. Most, however, prefer to separate their > religious beliefs from their music or their politics; a few use their > music to deepen their personal faith (as opposed to a Christian metal > artist who uses the music to evangelize publicly). All consider > themselves no-less-legitimate members of their faith than do secular > American Jews or British Anglicans. > > As important, those who identify themselves as religious are often > followers of various Sufi, or mystical, forms of Islam. Their style of > faith and practice goes against the grain of the Saudi-inspired orthodox > vision of Islam that, thanks to decades of missionizing by > ultraconservative Saudis made possible by the kingdom's vast post-1973 > oil wealth, is assumed by most non-Muslims to have always defined the > religion. In fact, however, until the last 40 years or so, Sufism was > the Islam of the vast majority of the world's Muslims, including in > Taliban-controlled northwest Pakistan, and in Afghanistan. > > All that still leaves the question of why heavy metal has become > increasingly popular in the Muslim world — popular enough so that the > Moroccan government, which has cracked down on homegrown metalheads, > sponsored a metal festival organized by American evangelical Christians > with ties to the Bush administration. (Lots of kids came; hardly anyone > understood or paid much attention to the evangelizing lyrics.) The > answer is quite simple. As one of the founders of the Moroccan metal > scene, Reda Zine, explained to me, "We play heavy metal because our > lives are heavy metal." That is, the various aesthetic qualities of > heavy metal — its harshness, angry tone, and lyrical content — are > embedded within the quality of life in contemporary Muslim societies. > Even for well-educated and relatively prosperous Moroccans, the level of > corruption, government repression, economic stagnation, and intolerance > makes it extremely hard to imagine a positive future. > > The metal life is not limited just to metalheads. Young people who > don't like metal can still do metal, as I learned when I brought Reda > together at a conference with a young Shiite sheik from Baghdad, Sheik > Anwar al-Ethari (known to his people as the "Elastic Sheik" because of > his willingness to blend Western and Muslim ideas and practices). After > listening to Reda describe why he plays metal, Anwar responded: "I don't > like heavy metal. Not because it's irreligious or against Islam, but > because I prefer other styles of music. But you know what? When we get > together and pray loudly, with the drums beating fiercely, chanting and > pumping our arms in the air, we're doing heavy metal too." In other > words, whether chanting for Ozzy, Osama, or Moktada al-Sadr, youth > culture is crucial to the larger identity formation and debates within > the Muslim world. > > Figuring out how to categorize the relationship to orthodox Islam > of the two forms of metal — playing and praying — can be hard work. The > same problem is faced by metalheads, who, in addition to being arrested, > jailed, and even tortured for being "Satan worshipers," have become the > butt of national jokes and a foil for comedians, preachers, and > talk-show hosts looking to assure mainstream Muslims of their moral and > cultural superiority. > > The variety of voices in Middle Eastern metal, rock, and rap, as > well as the difficulties and rewards of bringing them together, became > apparent when I wrote and recorded a song titled "Marhaba," with Reda > Zine, at the Beirut studio of Moe Hamzeh, lead singer of the Lebanese > hard-rock band the Kordz. The song, whose title means "welcome" in > Arabic, blends together hard-rock and funk guitar riffs with a Gnawa > (Moroccan blues-style Sufi music) bass line and vocals, > Lebanese-inflected melodies, and a hip-hop beat. > > "Marhaba" was written only a few hours after Reda and I had met > Moe, on the first night of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. After a day > of fasting, Reda was clearly inspired as he began playing his gimbri (a > traditional Moroccan fretless instrument similar to, but tonally lower > than, a guitar), over which his bandmate Amine Hamma and I started > jamming on guitars. Amine played the supposedly Western-style funk line, > and I added an Arabized melody. Sitting at his dual-hard-drive Power Mac > G5, Moe came up with a drum track that mixed hip-hop and a bit of Arab > percussion. > > It took two years to finish the song. Blending together the subtle > but important differences in intonation, melody, and rhythm between > North African and Middle Eastern music, not to mention the significant > difference between the Arabic of the two regions, was the first issue. > But more challenging were the technological and logistical issues: > moving back and forth among various recording systems in Beirut, Paris, > Casablanca, and Los Angeles, finding engineers and producers who could > capture a sound that blended styles in the song. > > "Marhaba's" lyrics are equally as important. In essence, it is a > deeply religious song, calling out to welcome a Sufi saint into the > presence of the gathered devotees. Yet Reda's lyrics are also quite > political. Mixing Moroccan Arabic, French, and a smattering of English, > recorded in a half-sung, half-rapped style that has come to define > Southern rap in America, they describe the numerous problems faced by > Reda's society, particularly those that prevent any true democracy, > before calling out to welcome the Sufi saint in the refrain. > > What "Marhaba" is ultimately about, Reda reflected during a long > night in the studio, is how collaborations such as the one we were > engaged in can help forge what he describes as a 21st-century "virtual > agora," or public sphere, in which communication among musicians across > cultures, whether in the studio, on stage, or through the Internet, > becomes a model for communication and cooperation in situations where > creating a physical agora, of the kind that was the cornerstone of > ancient Greek democracy, isn't possible. > > Such an agora is not just a concern for musicians. Egyptian > bloggers and Moroccan religious activists alike have become expert at > using the Web to disseminate information, precisely because governments > block other channels of communication. The kind of globalized agora that > needs no permanent, physical location to prosper is an antidote to the > "seduction by Internet" that has become the preferred modus operandi for > jihadi groups seeking to exploit impressionable young Muslims, for whom > "hanging around the Internet" has become the equivalent of "hanging out > on the street corner" a generation ago. > > The collaborative building of an agora addresses one of the most > important issues facing the Muslim world today — an acute sense of > humiliation that is strong enough to turn young Muslims, in the West as > well as in the Muslim-majority world, into extremists and even > terrorists. The Moroccan scholar and activist Mahdi Elmandjra coined the > term humiliocratie to describe the continued sense of powerlessness and > institutionalized "daily humiliation" felt by so many Muslims at the > hands of the West, and the United States in particular. For Muslim rock > and rap artists and activists, the treatment they receive at the hands > of their governments and from many members of their societies adds > another layer of humiliation, whose sting is often worse. > > Not everyone can be a fan of death metal or hard-core rap. But > appreciating how the people who are dancing, rapping, playing, and > praying at the seeming edges of their cultures are transforming Islam > and the Muslim world points us toward a deeper understanding of the > past, present, and future of Islam. It might be hard to imagine a Muslim > Martin Luther King Jr. sharing the stage with a Middle Eastern Ozzy > Osbourne — the way Bob Dylan and Joan Baez joined King on the steps of > the Lincoln Memorial at the pivotal moment of the civil-rights era — and > inspiring an audience of idealistic young Muslims to dream of and work > toward a hopeful and better future. But it's not so far-fetched. > > The real question is whether they can reach a large enough > audience, and find a big enough stage to play on, before the toxic > combination of government oppression, media manipulation, and violence, > intolerance, and war drown out the rowdy, liberating new soundtrack of > the Muslim world in a sea of hatred and blood. > > In the end, inshallah (God willing), it will be the kids with the > long hair and black T-shirts who'll have the last laugh. > > Mark LeVine is a professor of Middle Eastern history at the > University of California at Irvine. This essay is adapted from his book > Heavy Metal Islam: Rock, Resistance, and the Struggle for the Soul of > Islam, published this month by Three Rivers Press. Copyright 2008 by > Mark LeVine. > > -- > ((Udhay Shankar N)) ((udhay @ pobox.com)) ((www.digeratus.com)) > > -- Sent from Gmail for mobile | mobile.google.com Cheeni Q: Why is this email 5 sentences or fewer? A: http://five.sentenc.es/
