Kaleidoscopic Middle-Eastern torch songs
Jarak Qaribak, which is Arabic for “your neighbor is your friend,” (approximately) is a collaboration between old pals Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead and Israeli rocker Dudu Tassa, produced by Nigel Godrich. Tassa and Greenwood have gathered musicians from throughout the Middle East to perform love songs from countries other than their own. The message of international harmony is clear and delightful; the music is relatively eccentric and just as delightful.
Each track begins with a calm voice stating the song’s title, the singer’s name and the name of a country, sort of like a travel guide. These announcements are about the only thing calm about the songs, which explore the restless, worried and desperate side of romance.
The choice of opener, “Djit Nishrab,” meaning “I came to drink,” says a lot. The speaker, feeling wounded by his lover’s departure, descends into alcoholism to numb the pain. A drum machine evokes a dripping tap—a lonely, liquid torment. Strings play the same shrill phrase over and over, louder and louder. Selective distortion and echo effects give the song an industrial edge that doesn’t overpower the acoustic instruments. It’s a swirling, aching arrangement to match the situation.
“Djit Nishrab,” like the majority of the record, is not so much interesting as a song but as a sonic excursion. Throughout Jarak Qaribak, the listener is surrounded by free-floating rhythms and melodies that result in more nuanced impressions and feelings than Western ears might expect from romantic ditties. While a beat will suggest a dance club, a phrase played by a horn off to the side might evoke moonlight, fog and eerie quietude. In Rainbows-era guitar atmospherics and electric basslines fit for a ’70s Arabic funk compilation help the compositions rock.
If variegated textures and emotions aren’t grounding enough (though they should be,) two songs add catchy to the mix. “Taq ou-Dub” (“take a hike”) and “Ahibak” (“love you”) have as much hip hop attitude, melodicism, and spring as anything on the R&B charts—in addition to panoramic soundscapes and language rooted in vintage forms of poetry: “The full moon will shine and inspire imagination / The water will flow, we’re in a thicket.” How often do pop lyrics mention a thicket?
Jarak Qaribak, despite the lovesick songs, displays the immediate joy and artistic breadth that results from people of diverse backgrounds getting together to jam. The record packs agile singing, tasteful ensemble playing and the thoughtfulness of classical music combined with an accessible groove. It’s recorded and mixed so that everything sounds acoustic, real and close, even the electronic stuff. Expansive and fun.