Two years ago, Charif Megarbane joined the Berlin-based Habibi Funk label. (Credit: Mohamad “Rifo” al-Rifai)
Charif Megarbane is a multi-faceted artist, playing various instruments and inspired by different musical genres and cultures.
The uncommonly versatile artist continues his collaboration with the Berlin-based Habibi Funk label, while concocting his many side projects on his own Hisstology label. He draws on hip hop beat-makers such as Madlib and J Dilla, rich-sounding African artists such as Toumani Diabaté and great soundtrack composers such as Ennio Morricone and François de Roubaix,
We caught up with him upon the release of "Hamra/Red" and to mark the first anniversary of "Marzipan," the first contemporary artist album on the Berlin label, which is usually dedicated to music reissues from the Arabic-speaking world.
The “Hamra/Red” project has an artistic direction centered on the color red, and the title refers to the Beirut neighborhood Hamra. What does this neighborhood mean to you?
To put it in context, the "Hamra/Red" project is not the official sequel to "Marzipan."
It's a limited-edition release (172 vinyls with unique covers incorporating Polaroids) that we did with Habibi Funk in the style of hip hop beat tapes. Instrumental productions created by a producer/beat-maker, which are compiled in an album, like MF Doom's The Special Herbs series of instrumental albums. These are not things that have been studied as expansively as "Marzipan." It's a rather playful approach, in a fairly short format, a bit like what I've been able to do under my own label Hisstology with the series of albums "The Submarine Chronicles," for example.
We agreed on the theme of primary colors, and the first one we wanted to release was red, so we concentrated on this color, from the title to the cover and the track-list. The Arabic name, Hamra, is a discreet nod to the neighborhood.
"Hamra" exudes a certain nostalgia. For example, in the music of “Pomegrenate,” particularly the main melody. Is this melody a link to an existing song?
No, I composed it myself. Having said that, "Pomegrenate" is a direct reference to a certain sound from the 1960s-1970s, with a rhythm that's a little drippy and almost vulgar, but that was deliberate.
Actually, I like direct sounds, that is, when you hear a sound or a certain texture that immediately evokes something. These direct sounds can be perceived as naive, hence the impression of déjà-vu that emanates from them. But I also try to play with musical textures while making them modern; otherwise, it would be too easy.
It's been a year since “Marzipan.” It was your first Habibi Funk release under your own name, except for the “Tayyara Warak” EP. Has this album with the label enabled you to share your music with more people?
Yes, it changed a lot of things. On my label Hisstology, which I run with my childhood friend and manager Rabih Daher, I used to release music mechanically and compulsively. I didn't even put my name forward to create a musical universe of my own, so that people would have the impression that there were several artists on the label, when in fact it's just me.
When Habibi Funk invited me to release some music on their label, given the strength of their strike force and wide distribution, it won me a whole new audience, the idea being to sign my name and present myself as a composer in line with the other musicians in their catalog.
I'm very happy with my collaboration with Habibi Funk because they know my work rhythm and my vision.
Charif Megarbane, a multi-talented artist. (Credit: Mohamad “Rifo” al-Rifai)
"Marzipan" features a lot of everyday sounds. How do you choose these sounds and include them in your music?
Indeed, I like to include these little noises that modernize the texture of the sound. What's more, it's a way of humanizing the sound, because when you listen to instrumental music, it can quickly become abstract. As soon as you add these little sounds, it helps to establish a certain framework depending on what I want to evoke.
Nowadays, we all more or less have a telephone with a recorder, so sometimes when I find myself in certain places, I immediately have the reflex of recording ambient sounds to use them, whether it's a creaking door or a cicada chirping. It's also a way of following this idea of recording music as if it were a caret, mixing the composition and certain ambient sounds from the same week so that they become one.
Your inspirations are manifold, and recently on Instagram you posted a tribute to Toumani Diabaté, a Malian musician and one of the greatest kora players of his time. What role does African music play in your inspirations?
West African music inspires me enormously, specifically from Mali, but also from Ghana and Senegal. So I don't know if it's conscious or not, but on "Marzipan," although there's not a huge African influence, you can make out a few references to certain sounds from the Horn of Africa (Ethiopia, Sudan etc.).
Which album from your discography would you recommend to someone wishing to discover your music on Hisstology?
There are several that come to mind, but I'd recommend two in particular.
The first is by Prefaces, one of the groups I co-formed with two fellow Lebanese musicians: Salim Naffah (Alko B) and Pascal Semerdjian (Postcard, Sanam). The “Hippodrome” album was heavily influenced by surf music. It was conceived in a very organic way, entirely shaped in Lebanon, by Lebanese people. It was recorded at Tunefork Studio with the support of Fadi Tabbal and mastered by Ziad Sidawi. The titles of the tracks all refer to racehorses at the Beirut racecourse. Incidentally, this is the 100th album released by Hisstology.
My second recommendation would be "The Submarine Chronicles" album series I mentioned earlier. It contains 10 volumes, each covering a specific musical style or theme (bebop, car chases, krautrock, reggae, ambient music, etc.). Despite the diversity of styles, I've set myself a few guidelines. Each of these albums lasts no more than 30 minutes, and I designed the covers myself, following certain aesthetic codes for the visuals.
What are other albums you would recommend?
We mentioned Toumani Diabaté earlier, and I'd like to recommend one of his albums, "The Mande Variations." It's an album of incredible sensitivity and serenity.
Otherwise, more recently, I can recommend the album "Open Me, a Higher Consciousness of Sound and Spirit" by Ethnic Heritage Ensemble.
To return to Lebanon, I also recommend "Aykathani Malakon," which is the debut album by the group SANAM.
This article was originally published in L'Orient-Le Jour; English version edited by Yara Malka.
