Deena Abdelwahed’s Dhakar finds complexity through a stacking of simple beats and phrases. This EP follows the massive Khonnar, and continues that album’s tendency towards polyrhythms and atonality, which rumble beneath beefy lines of instantly gratifying club ecstasy. ‘Ah’na Hakkeka’, which opens this release, luxuriates in allowing its faces to coalesce—but when they do, it’s transportive; the same rush as a brostep drop. Abdelwahed achieves, through restraint, what has driven many producers to excess.
Two more coalescent pieces of Abdelwahed’s music are its contemporary and traditional methods. ‘Insaniyiti’ makes a spectacle of darkness; a compact cousin to Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s ‘Mladic’ which similarly hijacked the grandeur of traditional Arabic music and twisted it into something sinister. Abdelwahed does not deliver an insincere “fusion” that waters down the essence of traditional music for a global audience—she repurposes, recontextualises and transforms her samples, as any producer worth their salt should.
A separation between the two elements is maintained through some ingenious production. Bright drums, handclaps, and synths buzz like midges over a swamp of murky low frequencies. Dhakar is crisp, intricate and precise as a machine but keeps some of that handmade sloppiness that accompanies live performance. Where the boundary between these two styles sits is unclear; timbres blur in an inscrutable haze. But the overall effect is one of cloistered unity—like two rooms separated by glass, two yards separated by chain-link. The boundary is present but porous.
A growing portfolio of studio work and some stellar mixes have quickly established Abdelwahed as a pioneer in her field. She has a keen understanding of what makes a good set. But she also has a desire to expand far beyond that, stretching towards a future that she tightens focus on with every release.
Dhakar is available for purchase and streaming here.
Words by Andrew O’Keefe