Today's hip-hop is not all about bling and living large. Arab rappers spanning the region are on the frontline of reviving the lost art of socially-conscious rap, proving that hip-hop is very much alive. Hailing from various Arab countries — including Egypt, Tunisia, Lebanon and Palestine — the artists leading this movement voice similar socio-political concerns reflected not only in their combative lyrics but also in their alternative activism. Egyptian rapper and poet Mohamed El Deeb is in the vanguard of resuscitating rap as a viable means of expression, working to channel the political and cultural power of the hip-hop generation into mainstream socio-political activities. Mohamed El Deeb, aka “Deeb,” sat down with Daily News Egypt to discuss the insurgence of Arab hip-hop, regional solidarity and the power of a microphone. “Hip-hop music is a language that speaks about struggles and oppression. It is based on self-expression and projecting your point of view, regardless of whether people agree with you or not,” Deeb told DNE. “I like to see hip-hop ahead of the events and the game. It voices the struggles of the street, making it a sort of street pulse. My music tries to relate to the hardships of the average Egyptian, from a taxi driver to a street vendor to an intellectual, bringing forth conscious hip-hop.” Springing from the socially oppressed boroughs of New York City, hip-hop has always been rooted in politics. Pioneers of rap include Gil Scott-Heron and his timelessspoken workpiece, ‘The Revolution Will Not Be Televised' and Public Enemy's anti-authority anthem, “Fight the Power”. Racially oppressed musicians gave birth to an accessible means of socially-conscious expression. Hip-hop was born out of prejudiced poverty and exclusion (financially, socially, geographically). The driving force behind hip-hop was to be seen and heard, to have a voice amongst an otherwise silent and oppressed existence. It took nearly 30 years for hip-hop to filter into the Arab world. According to Deeb, hip-hop began beating through the streets of Egypt in the early 2000s. The underground music genre became quickly popularized through Egyptian rap crews such as Asfalt, Zero Boys and MeyaMeya. Deeb began his rapping and rhyming career in a rather unconventional place: French class. “I was 14 [years old], in class and our professor told us to write a rap poem in French. Instead of submitting it on paper, I recorded it and looped in beats. I played it in class and everyone loved it. I figured if I can rap in French, then I can rap in English, and that's what led me to writing in Arabic.” Deeb quickly learned the political power of a microphone from living in a region where people are automatically politicized due the daunting circumstances in which they inhabit. “I wasn't necessarily a part of any party [political] or social movement [prior to the revolution], however I wrote politically charged songs that discussed social inequalities and criticized the corruption witnessed during the Mubarak regime,” Deeb said. Prior to the Jan 25 Revolution, Egyptian rappers often had to disguise their content; choosing their verbal attacks carefully out of fear of punishment from the former government. “There was a high chance that you'd be locked up for speaking the truth,” he added. “I had to censor a lot of my lyrics. I could never say the word ‘government' or ‘president.' I would always refer to them as ‘The Big Guys' or ‘The Corrupt People.' I would use metaphors instead of direct name references. “I remember doing a TV interview when I was with Asfalt and the presenter had to stop us because we chose to sing a song called ‘El-Ebara Fel Abbara' (The Wisdom's in the Ferry) where we talked about the Salam ferry that sank [in Egypt] in 2005 and the 1,000 people that drowned. After investigations were made, we found out that Salam ferry owners were corrupt and had a close relationship to Mubarak's regime.” Deeb released his first solo EP, “Cairofornia EP,” in late December 2010, featuring four songs. The solo artist has received significant street-credit since, and was approached in early January 2011 by director and friend Mustafa Eck to create a music video for his hit track, “Masrah Deeb.” “We shot the video two weeks before the Jan. 25 uprising,” Deeb said. “The video was shot very close to Tahrir Square. I decided to release the video on Feb. 2, while the revolution was still at its peak, to remind the people of the social issues and political oppression that we experienced during the Mubarak regime.” Armed with microphones as weapons and the Arab Spring as their stage; rappers throughout the region have unified to create songs of solidary including the viral YouTube phenomena, “#Jan25Egypt.” Produced by melting pot of Arab artists, including Palestinian-American composer Sami Matar, and featuring regional stars such as Syrian-American rapper Omar Offendum, the song was inspired by resilience of the Egyptian people during uprisings earlier this year. Paying homage to legendary folk Egyptian singer Sayed Darwish, Deeb's song, “Oum Ya Masry” urges listeners to look deep within themselves to maintain the momentum of the revolution. His lyrics sing, “This has to be a revolution within yourself, tomorrow is better than the past.” Deeb tells a story in his raps; he is a social communicator with the insight of the old-Arab poets, a voice in a previously muted society and a welcomed motivator of human morale. To purchase Deeb's EP visit http://deeb.bandcamp.com/
