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CD
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GB 095CD
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The inventive duo of brothers from the Golan Heights -- Hasan and Rami Nakhleh -- return with an infectious re-imagining of their sound. Jammed full of pop hooks and quarter-tone melodic lines, Migrant Birds unleashes a disco whirlwind that pays homage to the Middle Eastern dancefloor scenes of the '80s. The new synth-powered album from TootArd takes them to the dancefloor, about as far from the spare, guitar-driven desert blues of their highly touted Glitterbeat debut Laissez Passer (GB 054CD/LP, 2017). The '80s may be the catalyst, with the glittering, hedonistic party vibe. But the real roots of the music here run deeper, to musicians like keyboardist Magdi al-Husseini and Ihsan Al-Munzer, who were the first to introduce synthesizers to the Arabic classical style, or Omar Khorshid, who pioneered the addition of electric guitar and worked with the legendary Umm Kulthum. They brought Arabic music firmly into the modern age. Migrant Birds winds all those strands from the past together into a very intricately-crafted whole with a full sound. Under the beats and joy, there's a dark contrast, a sorrow that casts its shadow all across the lyrics. The album's heart is simple idea -- freedom; of being those Migrant Birds and flying away. But perhaps that's as natural as breathing for people who remain officially "undefined" and stateless. Those who are born in the occupied Golan Heights have no passport, depending instead on a document called a laissez passer to be able to cross borders. It is a situation that has existed since the late 1960s when Israel took control of the region. A feeling of leaving, of knowing the emotional distance from where you began, is captured in "Wanderlust" with its Kerouac images of existing on the road. In "Babe," the thoughts of escape come from an Arabic woman, desperate to flee her dominant husband. That sadness which ripples through the lyrics is a perfect fit with the album's two slower tracks, "Ya Ghali" and the stately closer, "Remote Love." All through Migrant Birds, the focus is on songs that have plenty to say. Only one is an instrumental, the enigmatically-titled "Stone Heap Of The Wild Cat." While proudly rooted in the Middle East, Migrant Birds is infectious and globally accessible. But the album embraces a basic pop concept, with short, well-produced songs.
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LP
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GB 095LP
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LP version. Includes download code. The inventive duo of brothers from the Golan Heights -- Hasan and Rami Nakhleh -- return with an infectious re-imagining of their sound. Jammed full of pop hooks and quarter-tone melodic lines, Migrant Birds unleashes a disco whirlwind that pays homage to the Middle Eastern dancefloor scenes of the '80s. The new synth-powered album from TootArd takes them to the dancefloor, about as far from the spare, guitar-driven desert blues of their highly touted Glitterbeat debut Laissez Passer (GB 054CD/LP, 2017). The '80s may be the catalyst, with the glittering, hedonistic party vibe. But the real roots of the music here run deeper, to musicians like keyboardist Magdi al-Husseini and Ihsan Al-Munzer, who were the first to introduce synthesizers to the Arabic classical style, or Omar Khorshid, who pioneered the addition of electric guitar and worked with the legendary Umm Kulthum. They brought Arabic music firmly into the modern age. Migrant Birds winds all those strands from the past together into a very intricately-crafted whole with a full sound. Under the beats and joy, there's a dark contrast, a sorrow that casts its shadow all across the lyrics. The album's heart is simple idea -- freedom; of being those Migrant Birds and flying away. But perhaps that's as natural as breathing for people who remain officially "undefined" and stateless. Those who are born in the occupied Golan Heights have no passport, depending instead on a document called a laissez passer to be able to cross borders. It is a situation that has existed since the late 1960s when Israel took control of the region. A feeling of leaving, of knowing the emotional distance from where you began, is captured in "Wanderlust" with its Kerouac images of existing on the road. In "Babe," the thoughts of escape come from an Arabic woman, desperate to flee her dominant husband. That sadness which ripples through the lyrics is a perfect fit with the album's two slower tracks, "Ya Ghali" and the stately closer, "Remote Love." All through Migrant Birds, the focus is on songs that have plenty to say. Only one is an instrumental, the enigmatically-titled "Stone Heap Of The Wild Cat." While proudly rooted in the Middle East, Migrant Birds is infectious and globally accessible. But the album embraces a basic pop concept, with short, well-produced songs.
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CD
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GB 054CD
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TootArd are a young, trailblazing ensemble from the occupied Golan Heights who deftly fuse Levant-tinted desert blues, melodic psych-rock, morphed reggae, and classical Arabic modalities. Their second album, Laissez Passer, is their debut international release and one of the first such releases from their homeland. Restless, buoyant, and eclectic. A Laissez Passer. Let him pass. That's the document the stateless carry. It's all that those from the occupied Golan Heights possess. Since 1967 the area has been part of Israel, but the inhabitants aren't Israelis. They don't have any citizenship. They don't have passports. Just a Laissez Passer. And for the members of TootArd, who all grew up in the village of Majdal Shams in the Golan, it's a very apt name for their second album. "Laissez passers are special situation papers," explains singer and guitarist Hasan Nakhleh. "It took us a while to realise the effect. We're permanent residents in Israel, but not citizens. We have no travel documents. When we travel we need the laissez passer. With no nationality, we're officially 'undefined.'" But in statelessness, the five-piece has discovered musical freedom. TootArd grew up understanding that borders are something imposed by governments, lines that only exist on a map. On a disc, in concert, they can go wherever their imagination carries them. They carry their citizenship inside. "What we do now is the result of everything we've ever done and heard," Nakhleh says. "We began listening to Tuareg music and we fell in love with it. It resonated with us. North African music is something we've heard since we were children. We all grew up with classical Arab music. In finding our own sound, we've discovered things from all over." With its insistent riff that evokes the space of the desert; the glorious, driving, funky percussion; and an electric guitar that Nakhleh modified with extra frets to sound like an oud, the title-track builds a manifesto that bonds West Africa and the Maghreb to the Levant. It's a thrilling opener; more than that, it's a very catchy one, with the subtle reggae flourishes adding an organic international feel. TootArd are not "undefined"; they've fashioned their own identity in their music, creating a bond of the stateless that reaches from the Levant to the Tuareg -- another people without a real home -- and reaches out far beyond. Let them pass.
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LP
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GB 054LP
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LP version. 180 gram vinyl; Includes download code. TootArd are a young, trailblazing ensemble from the occupied Golan Heights who deftly fuse Levant-tinted desert blues, melodic psych-rock, morphed reggae, and classical Arabic modalities. Their second album, Laissez Passer, is their debut international release and one of the first such releases from their homeland. Restless, buoyant, and eclectic. A Laissez Passer. Let him pass. That's the document the stateless carry. It's all that those from the occupied Golan Heights possess. Since 1967 the area has been part of Israel, but the inhabitants aren't Israelis. They don't have any citizenship. They don't have passports. Just a Laissez Passer. And for the members of TootArd, who all grew up in the village of Majdal Shams in the Golan, it's a very apt name for their second album. "Laissez passers are special situation papers," explains singer and guitarist Hasan Nakhleh. "It took us a while to realise the effect. We're permanent residents in Israel, but not citizens. We have no travel documents. When we travel we need the laissez passer. With no nationality, we're officially 'undefined.'" But in statelessness, the five-piece has discovered musical freedom. TootArd grew up understanding that borders are something imposed by governments, lines that only exist on a map. On a disc, in concert, they can go wherever their imagination carries them. They carry their citizenship inside. "What we do now is the result of everything we've ever done and heard," Nakhleh says. "We began listening to Tuareg music and we fell in love with it. It resonated with us. North African music is something we've heard since we were children. We all grew up with classical Arab music. In finding our own sound, we've discovered things from all over." With its insistent riff that evokes the space of the desert; the glorious, driving, funky percussion; and an electric guitar that Nakhleh modified with extra frets to sound like an oud, the title-track builds a manifesto that bonds West Africa and the Maghreb to the Levant. It's a thrilling opener; more than that, it's a very catchy one, with the subtle reggae flourishes adding an organic international feel. TootArd are not "undefined"; they've fashioned their own identity in their music, creating a bond of the stateless that reaches from the Levant to the Tuareg -- another people without a real home -- and reaches out far beyond. Let them pass.
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