My Introduction to Ahmed

In an instant, all of the fear stored up in my clenched muscles evacuated itself, a seeming light pulsated around my body, and, as if being slowly beamed into some errant alien's grounded UFO, I felt myself gliding forth toward the Nile Deli's propped-open door.

For years during the aughts, I knew Astoria's Nile Deli carried hundreds of Arabic cassettes and CDs, but avoided the place as if my life depended on it. The owner -- short, stocky, brusque, with dark no-nonsense "stare-eyes" -- gave off immediate "get the fuck out of my fiefdom" vibes every time I stupidly slinked my way in, hands shaking in excitement, looking to fill an existing hole in my growing Oum Kalthoum collection. Given numerous other Egyptian, Lebanese, Moroccan, and Algerian markets dotting Steinway Street from Broadway up to Astoria Boulevard, it hardly mattered.

It wasn't long after I moved to the neighborhood in 2010 that those many alternatives began, one-by-one, to shutter their storefronts, their unique awnings all plastered with the same extra-large FOR RENT signs. It was down to the Nile Deli and Nassem Halal Meat and Mediterranean Grocery. 

While systematically hoovering the remaining rai CDs and Moroccan cassettes gathering dust and grime on the shelves behind Nassem's front counter, it became obvious I could no longer avoid the Nile Deli. And, then, one summer, a life-size poster promoting this CD appeared in the Nile Deli's window:

Abou El Leef, Super Leefa (2012)

In an instant, all of the fear stored up in my clenched muscles evacuated itself, a seeming light pulsated around my body, and, as if being slowly beamed into some errant alien's grounded UFO, I felt myself gliding forth toward the Nile Deli's propped-open door.

That's not 100% true. I couldn't feel myself. Or, rather, I could only feel my eyes, heavy as massive ball bearings in my head, so outsized was their purpose, as the ghost-me wafted inside, swirling around the CD rack.

I don't remember anything about the act of purchasing my now-beloved copy of Abou El Leef's massive chart-buster, Super Leefa, but I do remember never again feeling unwelcome by the Nile Deli's owner. Had I ever been? Had it all been paranoia?

The Very Best of Ahma Adaweya, front (1995)

Released in 1995, when the artist was 50 years old, "The Very Best of Ahma Adaweya" [sic] had been sitting in the Nile Deli's CD rack nearly a decade before I decided to take it home with me. I had no idea who the affable chubby guy in shades on the cover was.

The Very Best of Ahma Adaweya, back (1995)

This CD changed everything. It was the first time I'd ever heard 1970s-80s Egyptian shaabi. My ears & heart hadn't been filled with a voice like Ahmed's before, either. It was through him that I discovered kindred spirits the Mohameds Rushdi and Taha, Abdel Baset Hamouda, Abu Draa, Badaara, and so many others.

It kicks off with the one-two punch of "El Sah El Dah Embo" and "Salamitha Um Hassan," and keeps landing the blows without cessation. The sixth track, Bint El Sultan (The Sultan's Daughter), with its slow buildup and Ahmed's increasingly anguished yet ever-artful voice, is easily among the greatest 12-and-a-half minutes of sonic information ever recorded.

I quickly went from knowing squat about Ahmed Adaweya to reading everything I could find about him in books and online and frantically checking eBay and Discogs on the regular for CDs, cassettes, and later, singles and LPs. This website is the humble result. 

Over the coming months I'll share rips from everything I've got by Ahmed on physical media, favoring original vinyl and cassette releases (thus, no clips for the CD above). The singer's well-documented notoriety for vulgarity deserves contextualization: Ahmed did not write 99% of the music or lyrics he performed. His so-called vulgarity is not, in other words, attributable to any individual voice or vision: it is a cultural phenomenon, and one that I want this blog to make absolutely clear. To that end, expect references to and samples from the lyricists and composers in the posts that follow.

The narrative of Ahmed's long career has many twists and turns and often numerous versions of key events and writing credits. I've tried to capture as many of those as I could, without judgment. 

I'd love to hear from other fans and scholars. Don't hesitate to leave a comment or get directly in touch via email (click on my profile above and to the left).