Amr Hussein discovers Egyptian rai Rai music, a product of northwestern Africa, has crossed over into the Middle East and Europe thanks to the success of individual artists like Algerian Cheb Khaled and Moroccan Cheb Mami. The word rai, derived from the classical Arabic ra'i, means opinion; and songs traditionally expressed the artist's point of view on social and political issues. Considering the scarcity of live performances of rai on the local scene, the first and only Egyptian rai band, Sahara, formed in 1998, comes as a life raft. And the popularity with which their concert at Al-Sawi Cultural Centre was received last month reflects this fact. With the exception of Egyptian-Sudanese singer Said, however, all band members -- zither and percussion player Ahmed Ali, keyboardist and band founder Ahmed Al-Wahsh, percussionist Hani Bidair, drummer Ahmed Hisham, violinist Mohamed Medhat, bassist Osama Salah and guitarist Marwan Shaaban -- are Egyptian. Their music could therefore be seen as a local outgrowth of the genre, which, while preserving its essential qualities, reflects both the way in which it was Europeanised and the influence of homegrown sounds. Crammed with young listeners and musicians alike, the venue was as exciting as ever as members of Sahara ascended the ultraviolet lit stage; very soon it became obvious that violinist Medhat would garner the lion's share of attention throughout the duration of the concert owing to his superb solos. All the others proved equally good, however, as the second track -- a cover of Cheb Khaled's hit Chebba, demonstrated. No one (possibly not even Said himself) could understand the lyrics, written in Algerian darja, though all appreciated the vocal skill with which Said performed them. The applause was so frenzied it made for an impressive response, in fact, which coupled with a new surge of people flocking into the space, invested the atmosphere with greater and greater excitement. It was the violin solos that had the crowd cheering more often than not after that -- fellow band members would give Medhat appreciative smiles -- and Said's cover of Wahran, another Cheb Khaled hit named after his hometown, did not live up to expectations, something that became particularly obvious when he skipped the high notes, a musical faux pas if ever one existed. Yet Sahara's originals made as much impact as the covers, demonstrating the fact that the audience is always open to new material so long as it is of sound quality. Though Said announced that some originals were "made in one session", all proved very good indeed -- even despite some audience members feeling that some numbers were too informal, too unfinished. They still had haunting intros and excellent beats, solos to set the imagination flying and perfectly competent singing. That said, it was remarkable how much the crowd cheered as the intro of Cheb Khaled's classic Aisha was heard; it did not take Said much to have listeners clapping along to the beat and making them sing some of the French, then the Arabic bars. The latter were rather more difficult, oddly enough, but a guitar, then a violin solo brought the song to a brilliant end -- concluding the first part of the concert. After a 20- minute break, the band returned sans Said with a solo-rich instrumental, Sahara, composed by Medhat and arranged by the band -- violin, zither, keyboards and guitar all played their part. Peculiar was the way in which Shaaban intentionally placed his guitar against the amplifier, generating an eardrum-shattering feedback whistle with which to end the number. Some might call this experimental; it was, rather, annoying. So was the following song -- unremarkable and annoying. But the next number included an incredible violin solo that solicited a storm of applause. At the start of the following song, Helium's bassist Ezzeddin Hani told me to pay attention -- this, another of Medhat's compositions, was worth listening to. He was right. Despite a violent tempo, the soulful singing and repetitive bass line against a backdrop of piano made it remarkably soothing to listen to. Nor was the bass performance untypical: unlike many bassists Salah plays the richest lines rarefied, as it were, without any unnecessary notes. By now it was time for Said to perform his own composition of west African lyrics: a heavy guitar rendered the intro while Medhat nodded and waved his hand, brandishing the heavy metal sign; metal fans responded instantly, following suit as they whistled and screamed. Except for the ending, which featured excellent guitar and drums, the song turned out to have little to do with heavy metal, in fact. More rai followed, and by the time the concert ended at 10.30pm the crowd seemed happy. My own principal gripe is that Sahara did not introduce their originals by name, which is what a band should do if it is to promote its work -- unless they presume they are already famous.
