Growing up, I didn’t care much for Somali music, only could bear a few icons and if annoyed, I would imitated the great pop singers with a whiny voice. Back then CNN reports of refugee camps in Ethiopia or Kenya were visual background themes to my childhood. So, the music of my mother’s teenage years seemed so far a way.
(Iftin, Somali supergroup via Likembe.net)
Throughout the years, I have discussed the current state of Somali music with my mother, professors, friends and random people. These conversations have helped me reached the point, where I feel the world is ready for an introduction to Somali pop music from the 70s and 80s. In the upcoming months, I’ll use this blog to enfold a world and collect the creme de la creme of icons, singers and musical storytellers. So, after watching another disturbing documentary on the adventures of Somali pirates and the land of disaster, I could not bear absorbing another storyline which showcases the hopelessness of diplomacy, politics and the inhumane day to day life of the Somalis. So, I decided to explore our positive, beautiful, immaculate stories through music. After all, Somali music is an unknown entity and the new soldiers of music ethnologists haven’t set foot on the soil of Maqool, Mandeeq or Omar Dhuule.
In a country, where turmoil runs deeper than blood, music is not only an outlet but a lifeline reminding the wounded ones that hope is not wasted on the streets like the blood of a nation. Somali music as opposed to clan music, based on folklore traditions consists of a combination between the tender melodies of the nomads, explosive hot drumbeats and just a little colorful instrumental accompaniment. Depending on the era, you’ll ears might recognize a little dub reggae, rumba, jazz and funk; genres which were celebrated and redefined to fit the compositions like a glove.
