Artist Spotlight: Faraj Suleiman 🇵🇸
Faraj Suleiman is a classically trained pianist whose compositions are a blend of jazz and Arabic music. I discovered his “Hymn to Gentrification” on Spotify’s “Palestine Sounds” playlist, which led me to his album, “Better Than Berlin”. Maybe it was the eclectic jazz melodies, or perhaps the storytelling lyrics that I couldn’t understand, but none of the other songs stuck with me… yet.
Fast forward one year – I’m in London doing my master’s degree and I meet a friend who recommends I listen to “Better Than Berlin”; it turns out Faraj is from her hometown of Haifa. I give it another listen but still can’t seem to get into the music. A few months later, she tells me that Faraj is performing in Hackney and asks if I want to go. Naturally, I say yes. So, there I am listening to the album again, but this time to familiarize myself with the songs so that I’m not completely lost at the concert.
The show begins with Faraj talking to the audience in Arabic. In a sea of words without meaning, I pick out one, a name: Shireen. The room goes silent as we take a moment to remember Shireen Abu Akleh, the prominent Palestinian journalist who was murdered by Israeli forces just a few days prior.
Faraj and his band start playing and the crowd is absolutely buzzing. Everyone is singing along, and it really feels like a big gathering of friends. The much anticipated “Questions on My Mind” rings out in the concert hall, and the audience erupts in unison with the line,
“بعده كل ليلة البوليس بتمنيك عَـ ولاد العرب؟” [do the police still fuck with the Arab kids every night?]. That’s when I realized I was missing out on half of what makes Faraj’s music so special, the lyrics.
After the concert, I started listening to Faraj’s music religiously. I watched his lyric videos on YouTube to understand his songs and even used them to start learning Arabic (click here for more resources I use to learn Arabic). When I needed study music, I listened to his old instrumental albums. I guess fourth time’s the charm because I became absolutely hooked on Faraj Suleiman.
Music and poetry
Faraj’s two most recent albums, “Better Than Berlin” and “Upright Biano”, feature lyrics written by writer and poet Majd Kayyal.
“Better Than Berlin” is a tribute to Haifa—a collection of songs that show that despite its flaws, it is still better than any big European city. The pensive “Questions on My Mind” is a fan favourite in which Faraj asks for updates from back home while he is abroad in Berlin. Along with slow, melancholic tunes like “Elegy for a Lone Martyr” and “A Prayer”, and upbeat social critiques such as “Tasteless”, this album has something for everyone. No matter the tempo, Faraj’s music reflects a deep emotional resonance, often conveying a sense of longing, hope and reflection.
His newest album, “Upright Biano”, tells a more personal story of love and loss while still reflecting the collective experience of Palestinians. It may not be as singable as “Better Than Berlin”, but Majd’s lyrical genius is on full display and is accompanied by Faraj’s most creative musical ideas yet. The opening song “Down with London Bridge” is the perfect example of this. At 13 minutes long, this diss track of the British monarchy seems like it came straight out of a musical.
Through the many movements of the rhapsody, Faraj criticizes Britain’s foreign policy and colonial history, jokingly wishing that the Queen “falls off her horse and crashes”. He uses the character of his father to coincidentally highlight the futility of this consuming hatred towards former colonial powers. In my opinion, the song depicts the internal conflict of someone who enjoys success and security in the West while also resenting it for destroying their home country.
Conclusion
Since I fell in love with Faraj’s music over a year ago, I rarely go a day without listening to him. Even if you don’t speak Arabic, I encourage you to have a listen. Who knows, it may just inspire you to learn Arabic too.
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