Rock'n'roll, arab style
In Rachid Taha's politically charged pop, Eastern soul gets a Western beat
Somewhere, Joe Strummer must be smiling. Twenty-two years after the late guitarist and his band, THE CLASH, released the classic single "Rock The Casbah", Franco-Algerian singer Rachid Taha has taken the title literally - with a cover of the 1982 hit that blends ringing electric guitars with Arab woodwinds and strings to give it a distinctively north African flavor. In a sense, Taha's take on "Rock The Casbah" on his new CD answers the provocative question posed by the title track, "Tékitoi?" ("Who Are You?"). "I'm a French rock'n'roller with deep Arab roots", says Taha, 46, in his low growl. "I'm a European born in Africa and a Muslim musician with a rock attitude. "Tékitoi?" is a reminder that people can affirm their many identities without denying others".
Tweaking accepted conceptions of musical and cultural identity has been a Taha trademark for more than 20 years. He's focused on merging the influences of his native Algeria with the European idioms he encountered after emigrating to France when he was 10. A native of Oran, a culturally rich northwestern port city, Taha came of age displaced from his Algerian roots but without being accepted by French society either. In 1980, after a series of drudge jobs, including a stint in a heater factory, Taha hooked up with a quartet - three of whom were fellow ethnic Arabs - in a Lyons suburb and formed CARTE DE SÉJOUR (GREEN CARD). Though the band's gritty garage sound and defiant Arabic lyrics about racism, immigration and social injustice won it a healthy club following, French radio stations shunned the group. "I knew DJs who were told by bosses to "Lose the Arab records - now", Taha recalls.
The band nonetheless managed to break through in 1986 with an Arab-accented cover of Charles Trenet's nostalgic "Douce France" ("Sweet France"), a wartime ballad extolling an insouciant, bucolic nation of villages, church bells and endless horizons. The ironic reminder of the less-than-sweet treatment reserved for France's immigrants and minority populations propelled Douce France into the charts, and set the tone for Taha's subsequent releases.
Since going solo in 1990, Taha's output has been eclectic. He produced two rock-based albums before going decidedly electronic with "Voilà Voilà" in 1995. In 1998, "Diwân" went gold - selling over 100.000 copies in France - fueled by the hit single "Ya Rayah", a popular north African song of exile that takes on a roguish air with Taha's rough vocal. Despite some commercial success, Taha's mix of traditional and electronic instrumentation and beats, and his habit of singing in Arabic, has often led critics to classify his records as fusion or world music, a label that confounds him. Taha makes lavish use of traditional Arab instruments like the oud lute, and string and wind sections, driven forward by electric bass and guitars, rock backbeats, and even the odd hip-hop influence. "When THE BEATLES or LED ZEP used Eastern influences or instruments, it was said to add ambiance or texture", he muses. "But when an Arab does that, it's said to be traditional and exotic". "Tékitoi?" might seem like an attempt to cross over; after all, the title track is sung mostly in French, and Taha continues to use producer Steve Hillage - a former guitarist with the 1970s band GONG who has since produced groups including SIMPLE MINDS. But "Tékitoi?" retains a strong north African flavor and reaffirms Taha's reputation as a politically engaged singer. In "H'asbu-Hum" ("Demand Their Accounting"), Taha denounces the "murderers, oppressors, traitors, envious and rotten" who work to deny individuals their freedom in both the Western and Arab worlds. He delivers a similarly dual message in "Lli Fat Mat" ("The Past Is the Past"), urging listeners to embrace tradition for its richness rather than cling to it out of resentment or fear. "Turn the page. Forget the pain. Be yourself, and make life a poem", Taha sings.
Taha takes his own advice very much to heart. "I've understood that if we bend to the cliches and roles society assigns us, we'll never progress, never integrate, never really learn from each other", he says. "In a way, I guess I've become so integrated I can now stand apart and do things my way". Like rocking the Casbah - in Arabic.
Bruce Crumley
"Time Europe magazine", November 22, 2004
