Omar Souleyman – The Arches, Glasgow 09/11/13

Looking at the man onstage, a forty-seven-year-old who, if I’m not being unkind, looks a little bit older than his age, resplendent in red and white keffiyeh, grey tunic and black shades, singing songs he would – under normal circumstances – normally be reciting at a Syrian wedding you can’t help but wonder: “How the hell did all this happen?”

And I’m almost certain that the man onstage at Glasgow’s Arches, Omar Souleyman, must wonder the same thing himself sometimes.

The Syrian singer has, in this past week alone, played to enraptured crowds at the Iceland Airwaves and Pitchfork Paris festivals and I’m sure if tonight is anything to go by he’s had everyone joyfully dancing by the end of it. But there he is, up on stage, still appearing slightly shell-shocked and bashful about the whole thing, tucking the microphone under his oxter in order to clap along with the dabke beats provided by his keyboardist and erstwhile producer Rizan Sa’id, or with a flick upwards of his palms encouraging the audience to dance, jump or clap along with the music.

And everyone does what Omar says too – by the end of the night there’s pockets of dabke dancing taking place across the venue, led by Glasgow’s Syrian community. I mean, how could you not when this genre of music, created specifically for celebratory occasions, is just straight-up out-and-out fun?

Everyone knows the story by now of how Souleyman came to be discovered and ended up with Four Tet’s Kieran Hebden producing his debut album Wenu Wenu, and in such times where the internet means we’re more of a global community than ever, it’s hardly a surprise to come across such bizarre success stories…but it’s still so heart-warming to see someone so without heirs and graces, so unashamedly pleased to be playing the music of his childhood and country to a crowd so open and welcoming.

The show is made up primarily of songs from Wenu Wenu, none better than the title track itself, the one that finally results in outbreaks of dabke dancing. It’s indicative of the music he and Sa’id play: pumped, almost techno beats lay the ground for stabs of euphoric Eastern-sounding synths and spiralling sax solos (replicated here on the Korg, as there’s no sax player present) and, of course, Souleyman’s gruff vocals recreate the kind of atmosphere that the duo must have experienced at many weddings in their homeland. I’m consumed with the thought of how incredible this sort of event must be back in Syria, then immediately of how homesick some of the Syrians here tonight might be feeling – a mix of joy and yearning, perhaps.

While the dancing breaks out, I look back to the stage to see Souleyman coming to the end of his set, and a little smile just manages to break out across his moustachioed face. In the end, what’s the difference where he plays his music? He seems the sort of guy who would put as much into his wedding songs as he would onstage at a Pitchfork festival, just happy to be spreading joy and the music that he loves.

Photograph by Matthew McAndrew. See full gallery here.