- Islamophobia and the global migration crisis have dominated the headlines in recent years, but in electronic music it seems that borders are opening rather than closing. Labels like Versatile, Disco Halal and Trilogy Tapes have been releasing a new wave of electronic records from the Arab world, while DJ Sotofett, Gilb-R and Floating Points have all launched collaborative projects with traditional Arab musicians. Besides introducing new audiences to a rich vein of musical heritage, these projects make a strong statement in support of cross-cultural understanding.
Beyond the records, events have sprung up in North Africa to promote local electronic musicians and to give established acts a new platform. Tunisia and Morocco have both hosted festivals this year, while Cairo's VENT collective (profiled last year by RA's Angus Finlayson) has brought the likes of Huerco S, Ital and Bradley Zero to the Egyptian capital. The latest concept, Masāfāt, may be the most ambitious yet: a two-week programme of concerts, films and workshops scheduled across Cairo and London.
On Friday, September 2nd, Karen Gwyer, Mumdance, Logos and Shapednoise gathered for the second of four nights at London's Institute Of Contemporary Arts (ICA). Gwyer opened with an hour-long live show, navigating the territory between lo-fi house, Detroit-leaning techno and more psychedelic sounds. Heavy kicks powered beneath manic melodies and cyclical rhythms with sensuous curves. It was one of the best live techno sets I'd heard in a while, hypnotic and graceful, but the early-evening ICA audience posed a problem. I had to shut my eyes to really get into it, blotting out the unmoving crowd. Her music called for a club rather than a gallery.
The Sprawl, AKA Mumdance, Logos and Shapednoise, headlined with a show that felt better suited to the space. The project takes its name from the cyberpunk metropolis in the science-fiction writing of William Gibson, evoking an urban dystopia through brutal squalls of noise and the sounds of malfunctioning machinery. Occasionally some structure emerged in the shape of sawtooth basslines and irregular, shattering beats, but this was not club music by any stretch. At one point, a brave young couple tried dancing together at the front but they quickly gave up, put off by The Sprawl's uncompromising and grooveless sonics.
If anything let the night down, it was the absence of any Arab music or musicians. Tunisian artist Deena Abdelwahed had originally been billed, but she never appeared, apparently one of several Masāfāt artists denied entry to the UK because of visa complications. As much as we may be advancing in terms of sharing music and gaining a better understanding of faraway cultures, in some areas, there's clearly still a long way to go.