Why do Dudes Sing to Dudes in Arabic?

This is something that has bugged me for a while. In most Arabic music, male singers often sing to/about ostensible females, but use all male forms (Arabic differs between the male and female you as well as he/she). At first, it messed up my comprehension:
"Why is he waiting for a man with his name tattooed on his arm?"
"No, it's a woman, his lover, she has his name tattooed on her arm."
"Well then he should say eeda and not eedu!"

I'll still mistake the third-person female (she) for the second person male (same verb form in Arabic) even though the second-person male is actually supposed to be a female! It's very confusing! And just... strange. If he means a lady, why don't he talk to her like a lady? Lady singers in Arabic sing to/about men, using masculine forms.

Most of my friends who I've brought this up to don't think it's that strange. "Oh, we're used to that. All of the songs are like that." There's no confusion. Of course he's singing to a girl, even though he's saying inta and bhbak (rather than inti and bhbik). Cause there's no way he would be singing to guy.

There are notable exceptions, such as Kazim asSahir's songs based on Nizar Qabanni's poetry, as Qabanni was all about the ladies. But for the most part, it's habibi, not habibti.

Possible explanations?

1) Melody.
This is what most Syrian I ask think. Try to sing "inti ghaliyya" in the same melody as "inta ghali" (Amr Diab). Don't work. So the male forms work better with melody. I don't buy this, as the melody or words can easily be changed around. I can sing "inti helwa" perfectly in sync with Amr Diab. Arabic isn't the only language with male and female forms, and somehow the others manage to sing to/about the ladies, addressing them as ladies.

2) Eib!
An Italian friend getting her master's in Arabic literature told me this theory. In classical poetry, it was considered immodest and rude and whatever to address a lady as such, so they used male forms. The convention continues. It's possible, though I've read some pretty rude classical poetry (with both the قديب and the ماء الحسن which eminates from it).

3) Respect.
I can't remember where I heard this one first, but I definitely heard it. The poet loved his lady so much and had so much respect for her that he would write to her as a male. A sadeeq is better than a sadeeqa! A weird theory, but possible?

If anyone has any idea or other theories, help! It's been driving me crazy for a year.

Catching Concerts by Chance

I've been getting out more, whether dragged by friendship obligations last Thursday to Cave de Baal to support my friend Noor's DJing (party every Thursday), or more willingly to a few concerts. In either case it means I'm behind on watching Noor, the dubbed Turkish muselel, and I hear very exciting things are afoot!

Noor's a good DJ, in that he plays more than techno, but his party's at the matinee hour and coming on the heels of highschool exams, the place was packed with teenagers. I love teenagers as much as anyone, but I felt like I should have brought my walker. Whatever, it's always fun to watch muhajibbat grinding on the dance floor.

The concerts I stumbled upon going the International Flower Exhibition in Tishreen Park. There's been signs all over, so I went Sunday. It cost 50 lira to get in, and the exhibition itself was quite underwhelming. "International" apparently meant Jordan, Egypt, Iraq, and Homs. The best design by far was Hama's.

A little disappointed, we started to leave, only to find a stage all set up for a concert near the Sahat Umuwe'en entrance. We asked the techs what was up, and they casually informed us there would be an Itar Shama' concert later. Itar Sham'! They are an awesome husband-and-wife band that plays Arabic rock. I saw them earlier in the year at an Arab Cultural Center outside of Damascus and the place was packed. The kids love 'em. I been keeping up on concerts, even the ones I know there's no way I'm attending (Julio Iglesias in the Bosra Ampitheatre). How had I not heard? No body has heard. The publicity for the exhibition has unfortunately not included the fact that they have all of Syria's most popular bands booked.

The tech gave us a schedule: Itar Shama', LEENA CHAMAMYAN (probably Syria's most popular singer), Anas and Friends, Daraja Aliya - all of Syria's most popular bands. Each night a different band.

I didn't see the concert Sunday night because of a prior commitment to watch Germany get their asses handed to them (ok, so the game wasn't actually that one-sided, but still yay Spain) the same evening, but returned to see Daraja Aliya two nights ago and Anas and Friends last night. Not so impressed with the last one, except the last song, a cover of a 10-year-old Mohammed Monir song (who I saw in concert in Cairo with Nancy Ajram in 2006).

And tonight- Leena Chamamyan (maybe that's how you spell her name, but probably not). It'll be the third time I've seen her and I own her two CDs. She rocks the Arabic jazz-ish music. And my socks.

Hopefully I won't end up on TV. Everytime I go to a cultural event, my friends try to push me to talk to the Syrian TV camera roving around. Yesterday Tariq even went up to the reporter and told her there was a foreigner over there, while I was yelling, "She doesn't care." Some of my friends, who I met back when I was struggling to say things like, "The sheep also meat no meat tummy pain no thank you pain," and are very proud of teaching me to now say things like, "Thank you, I'm sure the meat is delicious but it will cause me stomach pain," and swearing, of course.

They also try to push me to introduce myself to the artist.
"What would I say?"
"Just that you like their music. They'll be flattered that a foreigner likes it."

I believe this is just a plot to have an excuse to shake hands with the musician themselves, as I observed when pushed to congratulate an opera singer at Dar al-Assad. I imagine while I'm saying "I like your voice," in my retarded accent, my friends are behind me, looking at the artist as if to say, "Sorry what can you do? She's foreign and weird. But nice to meet you too."

Rock on!

I had a rock-filled weekend, going to not one but two "music parties" (literally concert in Arabic). The first was for my friend's friend's band "Fade 2 Black," or as the fans know them, F2B. Back together after one of their members had to go into the army, they rocked Jerimana Thursday night at a bar named Vitality. It had free pool, a bartender who could do cocktail-esque tricks (is it sad that my standard of "cool bartender" is a Tom Cruise movie from the 80s?), and a bar that was occaisonally lit on fire. F2B stayed true to their name and mostly did Metallica covers, until a girl with an awesome voice joined them and then they did some "I Will Survive", Evanescense, and "Zombie," that 90s song from the Cranberries about The Troubles in Northern Ireland. The last one twice. There was one original song from the band, which was half in Arabic and half the song "Summertime." Not exactly my bag, but everyone else had a head-banging good old time. Every one loves that Metallica.

Friday night I went to another show in an Armenian church in the old city. "B Flat" performed a mix of covers, plus a few originals, sadly (for me) all in English. Why to rock must it be in English? There's a whole untapped market of genres to be sung in Arabic, as right now the Arabic music scene generally consists of classic and disposal pop, the latter more famous for the Lebanese ladies who writhe in the video clips than their lyrics or musicality. Leena Shamamyan is at least singing in the Arabic but her stuff is very classical-ish. Where's the Arabic metal? The Arabic reggaeton? Arabic soft rock? Arabic electronica? Arabic reggae (oh, wait, I have heard this). Why mostly have acts like the Spice Girls been duplicated (The 4 Cats are getting a lot of play on Melody Arabic) or singers like Britney and Christina (Dana, Haifa, Ruba, just turn on the freakin music channels). Not to say I don't buy this music and memorize the words and have been to a Nancy concert, but c'mon, there's a good four or five video clip channels. Let's widen the range which right now is from Um Kulthum-Fairouz to Dana-Nancy. Fine, I'm just selfish and what I really want is The Smiths, but in Arabic, so I could listen to them over and over again like I do the Smiths, and then I will rock in Arabic. Or at least, in self-pitying and ironic Arabic.

At the end, B Flat did do a hilarious medly of Black Eyed Peas, Usher, and yes, Tupac's "California Love" with "Compton" changed to "Damascus". Of course, there was more Evanescense and even "Zombie." People fucking love Zombie but no one actually seems to knows it's about Northern Ireland specifically or against ongoing, seemingly intractable disputes generally. Hmm.

Loves the Music

Unlike previous weekends, in which I was a loser and stayed home or came home early(I'll blame the sniffles) I actually got out. Thursday night I went out clubbing with a few friends, Tariq, Salih, and the kickboxing champion of Syria, Abud. I failed to bring my foreign girl friends along (sniffles). Three guys and a girl is not good math for getting into clubs. I asked why this was all on me, don't they know any girls?
"Yeah, but you know Syrian girls. They have to be home by 10 or 11."

We did manage to get in free at a club in one of the fancy hotels near Cham Palace (not Jetset). I have yet to pay to dance. The club was on the fourth floor, dance floor outside overlooking Qasloum Mountain. The music - occaisonally there was a respite from incessant techno, but most (not all- no one fucked with Shakira) rap or latin or Arab song was mixed with a techno beat, rendering it undanceable to me. Not to every one else there, though. What is it with Americans? The world loves techno. The Europeans students love it. Elizabeth from Zimbabwe loves it. Syrians love it. But every American, before heading out to the club goes, "Wait, is it techno?" Football and techno, two things the world loves that America just doesn't. Mindy hypothesises that, as the birthplace of rock, soul, jazz, etc., Americans just can't get down without that soul. Even the white ones.

I did get to hear some music with soul the next day at the Layna Shamyan concert. A Syrian-Armenian (when I said, really? She's Armenian? I was told: with a name like Shamyan? Are you kidding, of course!) singer with an incredible voice. It was in a theatre off Sharia Sawra not far from Souq Hammidiya. Packed to standing room. Afterwards, I bought her two CD's over Tariq's protests that I should just burn his. I like to support an artist every once in a while, especially when four cds (2 Layna, 2 promos of other artists from the label) cost the equivalent of 8 bucks. I got to sit right up in front - it was pretty amazing.

Party til Sohour

I finally really went out last night after three weeks here. The occasion is Lindsey's (a housemate) impending move to Kuwait to do her research. The day started with a horribly difficult midterm exam in Arabic, in which the reading section was about carrier pigeons. Luckily I knew the word "carrier pigeon" because of random events last week.

After iftar Mindy, Michele, and I met Lindsey at the botanical gardens next to the citadel (we could only smell the river a bit) and had chocolamou, a delicious ice cream/mousse hybrid. Then it was onto a cafe, where Jihan (an Algerian friend of Lucy, a SOAS student. Jihan's been staying in the house for two weeks, having moved to Syria to get the hell out of her parent's house - she works in a salon here) was singing. Hung out with the SOAS girls and some sketchy/nice guys who work in the souq (just like Egypt!). She sang only one song, but got the crowd going with her hips as well. Good voice.

A strawberry shisha (it's so hard to remember to call it argileh here)later we made our way in a big group to Domino, a restaurant by day/club by night. We got there a little before 1, demanded that the DJ change the Eurotechnoshit that was playing (though Lilia, German, was loving it), and got our requested mix of Arabic, Latin, and hiphop. One guy, who was actually quite good at dancing, kept wanting to dance with me but he also came up to my chin, which made dancing a bit awkward. Ramy, the guy who got us all in Domino for free, was seen in the middle of the dance floor making out with and dry humping a huge foreign girl. Some drunk foreign man kept staggering around the dance floor, while the Syrian girls (heavy eye makeup and belly shirts) worked to show up the foreigners. Tariq tried to spin me at one point but instead I accidently smacked his nose with my arm. There was a little blood, very little.

Before 4:00, having sweat my hair wet and beaten the shit out of a nice boy, the four of us who stayed to the end made out way back to the house. On the way back we ran into Abu Tabla, the old man who during Ramadan walks into the all the alleys beating a drum to wake people up for sohour. He went into our alley at the same time as us, so we had to hurry. Luckily we could use Lucy's key to the side door and sneak in. We changed into our pajamas, then went down to sohour with the family, who thought we had just woken up.

Know Your Poptarts: Dana

Oh, Dana. This song "Bos Alaya Bos" first came out in 2006 when I was in Egypt. At the time I thought it was quite incongruous to have a lady dancing around in hot pink hotpants on the TV as muhagabas (veiled women) bought kushari and shwarma. This video introduces Dana, quite literally. The text at the beginning introduces the first girl without... plastic surgery. Then the lyrics...

Ana Dana (I'm Dana)
Ana Dan Dan (I'm Dan Dan - a nickname)

What do you expect from a song called "Look at me"? Naturally this isn't Dana's only song based on her name (She's not the only one, Haifa Wehbe has "Ana Haifa") Doudou being another cute nickname for Dana.

How cute. From the little girl voice to the silly costumes and poses, if Nancy Ajram is the zenith of Arab poptarts, Dana is pretty close to the nadir. But yet, what chutzpa! The lyrics include "You have to know who I am, everybody knows me, everybody is after me". The best part? How about "At your service, sir" [ay khadma ya basha] right before she writhes around in the black catsuit.

Her other videos are similar: in "Inta Min" her voice is even more childish and she mugs for a mirror and shows off her manicure, (naturally) gets caught in an indoor rain storm, and dances around a plastic surgery operating table. Dana is very proud of her lack of plastic surgery, which must explain the lack of clothes. In "Miya Miya" (100) she dresses as a sexy waitress, a sexy gas station attendant, and a sexy children's entertainer in a bee costume (no shit), gets engaged to three men with big shiny engagement rings, and leaves all three at the altar. Small children also dress up in her outfits from previous videos.

My harsh assessment of Dana might seem hypocritical, especially since I love Ruby. I'm fucking obsessed with "Mosh Hate'dar" right now [see below]. There are several differences: Ruby's voice does not make me want to shoot myself in the head. Ruby's songs are fun, danceable, and aren't all about her name. There's a chasm between doing fun, disposable pop well and horribly: these ladies illustrate that difference.

Ruby's all Classy and Shit

روبي - مشيت ورا إحساسي
Look at her - no belly showing, no shameless gyrations. Ruby - what happened? This is the latest single off her new album, and shares the same name, Misheet Wara Ihsasi (I Followed My Feelings). Ruby is reportedly trying to project a classier, covered up image. In the past, her racy videos have caused the Muslim Brotherhood to call for their ban in the Egyptian Parliament and been the subject of NPR reports and New York Times articles. The song is eh, not her best.

I actually really like the first single, Mosh Hate'dar (You Won't Be Able to). This one really emphasizes the classy: She's sitting! Not dancing! Covered up! Stringed instruments! Um... sitar!

But the song itself is great, very classic vibe like Fairouz or even (though naturally it does not approach) Um Kulsoum. Nice going Ruby!

But, for a minute, can we remember the glorious sexiness that was a Ruby video? Whether pantomining sex acts with a stationary bike, walking around Prague in a pink belly dancing ensemble, or, as here, invoking Ancient Egypt to display the sexy, she was truly fucking awesome:

Shams... with English Subtitles

This was a massive hit in the winter but here it is now... with synchronized transliterated and translated subtitles! This video's full awesomeness is no longer partially obscured from the American people by language issues. And its dancey!