Omar Souleyman - Barbican, London, 13/12/14

15 December 2014, 09:30 | Written by Saam Idelji-Tehrani

(Live)

(Omar Souleyman)

The legend of Omar Souleyman surely has to be one of the great stories of modern music. Omar Souleyman: Highway to Hassake (Folk and Pop Sounds of Syria) on the Sublime Frequencies label marked the moment when the West began to take note of an artist, who, in his native Syria emerged as a staple of folk-pop throughout the country. Since the release on Sublime Frequencies, Souleyman has packed out tents at Field Day, joined Caribou to perform at the ATP Nightmare Before Christmas, and collaborated with the likes of Björk - on the Crystalline Remix Series – and Kieran Hebden (a.k.a Four Tet), who produced Souleyman’s “first studio record”, Wenu Wenu. His rise within Western culture however is not some form of fetishisation of Eastern culture, but a celebration of Syrian folk-pop and dabke – a phenomenon, before Souleyman, seldom heard in the West. And at London’s Barbican Centre, the celebration of this phenomenon (and Souleyman as an artist) continued, as he performed a blistering, musically energetic set as part of the Just Jam series.

From Ra’s al-‘Ayn in Syria, Souleyman is said to have released to date around approximately seven hundred studio and live albums – the majority of which were recorded at weddings and presented to the married couple, which were later copied and sold at local kiosks. He was and still is to some extent by trade a wedding singer, but just not as tragic, and as evidenced at the Barbican, more likely to bring the party with his brand of thumping dabke, folk and electronica.

Turbo-charged and overdriven in sound, the music was often performed at break-neck speeds, with shrill electronics and percussion packing out tracks over the course of the well-received thirty-minute set. Set highlight, “Shift Al Mani” was transformed into a near ten-minute monster, provoking much of the audience to clap, holler, jump and dance in time to the Eastern motifs circulating around the Barbican hall. “Khattaba”, the sole representative from the Wenu Wenu record, gave necessary respite to the audience and Rizan Sa’id (long-term collaborator/keyboardist extraordinaire) but yet maintained the attention of the hips of many within the audience.

The songs performed over the course of the short set demonstrated a heady amalgamation of the digital and the acoustic. Oud, saz and reeds were all sampled through Sa’id’s keyboards, yet transformed in such a way that gave much of the music a dizzying, indescribable and alluring feel. It was thus unfortunate that Souleyman’s set was so short, which meant the likes of “Warni Warni”, “Wenu Wenu” and “Dazeitlak Dezzelli” were left untouched.

Souleyman as a performer was mesmeric. Strutting the length of the Barbican stage, clapping to the recreated beats, his very presence drew ones undivided attention. Even the act of the “selfie” was made cool, as Souleyman obliged mid-set to one fan’s request. He is also an extremely humble performer, acknowledging, shaking hands and thanking much of the front row. And although Souleyman does command much of the audience’s attention, plenty can be said of the work of Rizan Sa’id. Responsible for everything heard bar vocals, his finger acrobatics on the keyboard are a joy to watch. Each digit independently acted as a conduit for the frantic percussion and instrumentation, while masterfully taming the pitch bend at numerous points throughout the set.

There is an undeniable universality to Omar Souleyman’s music and his performance at the Barbican Centre explicitly highlighted this. Regardless of culture or language, Souleyman’s music is able to break metaphysical barriers and enable listeners and audiences worldwide to revel within the music he creates. And although grime and dabke are disparate genres, the masses that rose from their seats and spilled into the aisles for the grime soundscapes of JME & Skepta (prior to Souleyman), remained standing and dancing throughout the entirety of Souleyman’s set, in any free space they could find, basking in the presence and music of a living legend.