Love Raid is first in a series of cassette-only mixtapes with the cult WFMU show and blog Bodega Pop collecting assorted digs from across New York's bodegas and cell-phone stores. This first edition is focused on leftfield, novelty, and protest 45s from across the Arabic world recorded between 1960 & 1974.
"A series of random discoveries in the mid-1990s led me to abandon American and British pop and focus on non-English-language music, predominantly Arabic, for the next two decades.
Feeding my ears required biking down to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, or hopping on the subway to Steinway Street in Queens, where I would pop into a handful of the local bodegas and immigrant-run cell-phone stores, some of which offered music from North Africa and the Middle East on cassettes and compact discs.
When CDs spiralled into obsolescence in the mid-2010s, I reluctantly made the switch to vinyl, concentrating on 45s and intentionally filling holes not well represented in the digital era – more artists than not hadn't made the transition from analog in the 1980s. This meant focusing on singles by a lot of artists I'd not heard of, and it quickly became evident just how much of the era – from approximately 1960 to 1974, when 7" records were all but abandoned in Egypt and Lebanon – had been forgotten.
What also became evident was the breadth of popular music issued by even hegemonic titan Sono Cairo. The consensus is that state radio and music publishing ignored traditional folk, shaabi, and other lowbrow pop in favor of the exalted art song we associate with Oum Kalthoum, Abdel Halim Hafez, and Farid al-Atrash.
While this active neglect of the broadest Arabic pop spectrum is mostly true, I accumulated a not inconsequential number of what I can only describe as "novelty" records by mostly one- and two-hit wonders. From catchy gimmicks like the "doktor, ya habibi" of Maha's "Doktor" and the "boom boom boom" of twins Thunai Badr's "Love Raid," to the Monty Python-level silliness of Sayed Mandoline's fake Italian crooning and maniacal laughter in "I Present to You the Mandolin," these were sounds I was genuinely surprised to hear.
Even more remarkable were the songs recorded in English: Karim Shukry's celebratory "Ramadan" and Motyaba & Nada's civil-rights plea "No Black No White" are two of my favorites, and thus included in the present collection.
The tracks compiled here are often as beautiful as they are beguiling, but while the intention was to absolutely put together a solid listen, it was also my hope to slightly expand our understanding of Arabic music of this period beyond not just the usual suspects, but also subjects – and treatment of same."
--Gary Sullivan.
