Sixth of October City, EGYPT – Maryam Saleh has always been a disruptive figure in the Egyptian music scene. In a society where judgement is deeply ingrained, her art has always been an illuminating sharp sword to the fragility of Egyptian society, especially when the artist is a woman.
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Her discography is a portfolio of how far she can expand her style, yet carry her familiar touch that makes someone recognize a Maryam Saleh song anywhere – the way her voice contorts to match and deliver the rage in her lyrics, her blend of Egyptian electro street music with Eastern classical instruments.
Her new album Syrr, just released March 27, feels like yet another expansion of her range.
Syrr, meaning secret in Arabic, has been a highly anticipated album after an almost eight-year break from releasing music, with Syrr taking three years of writing. After receiving mentorship in composing from co-producer Kamilya Jubran, Saleh then worked alongside another co-producer, Maurice Louca.
Three years passed, and recording finally began.
On the album’s bandcamp page, Maryam noted, “Writing, for me, was not merely inscription, but a way toward understanding. A search for a private pulse that could hold feeling before it dissolves into noise. Loss began as the first crack, then became a current of energy, and finally an echo that runs between the words – balancing what is spontaneous with what is deliberately remade. Three years of listening, returning, revising, breaking open the text and re-forming it until it revealed itself more clearly.”
The tracks in Syrr feel like fragments to a portrait. You can listen to the tracks on their own, but together, they form a body of work that almost feels like an enlightening experience taking the listener on a journey to confront their own loss until they finally come to, feeling released of a burden that was tightening inside the body.
The instrumentals of this album were quite special, the oud in particular having a more heavy and louder presence. But also, it was remarkable to see just how they produced this album to achieve a harmonic layering of sounds that work together so beautifully.
The backing vocals in many of these tracks didn’t feel like they were part of the background either, but they were like their own kind of instrument.
My favorite tracks had to be “El Faqd” (The Loss) and “Ma’na” (Meaning).
“El Faqd” was the second track of the album and touches upon Saleh’s experience of living with the grief of having lost her father for almost two decades.
“Ma’na” was a song that ignited a lot of sadness within as the singer wonders about the meaning of art, herself – or anything else – with the oud playing solemnly in the background.
Jana Salama is a Reporter with Youth Journalism International.