Judging from Edition Hassania catalog numbers, and unless there are some additional Najat releases from this period that I haven't found, I believe this is her final album to feature only plucked strings and percussion. This album expands her standard previous ensemble to include a second
plucked-string instrument (perhaps a lotar or a low-pitched oud, also heard on Koun Mâaya - now upgraded to FLAC). Also heard here is a mixed male and female group of response singers, anticipating the large choral ensemble heard on her orchestral album EH 1410, also now upgraded to FLAC).
Over the last couple weeks, the K7MATIC blog has presented several tapes of the incomparable raï singer Cheb Khaled from the 1980s. I've been enjoying in particular the tapes from 1983-84. These albums are fascinating - existing on the cusp between the old
full-orchestra style (with violins, accordion, electric guitar, etc.) and the newer electronic style that would come to prominence in the mid-late 1980s.
I was delighted to hear the oud on a couple tracks from the album Salou Ala Nabi, which blogmaster Reda dates to 1984.
As the album's final track progressed from a long oud solo into a mawwal and then into the song itself, I giggled gleefully as I recognized the song as "Samhi Liya Lwalida", which appears on Najat Aatabou's first album on Edition Hassania (which I believe dates to 1983 or 1984).
I'm pretty sure all the songs on Najat's album are of her own composition, so this appears to be Cheb Khaled covering Najat Aatabou. Far out!! (If somebody has different information about the song, please share it as a comment below.)
Here's another Najat Aâtabou album that I don't see anywhere else online. It's from 2001, the followup to "Attention A Monsieur", which I posted a few months back. It has a mainstream-chaâbi feel similar to that album, except that the viola and oud (?) are replaced by what sounds like a steel-stringed plucked instrument - can't tell if it's a bouzouk or possibly a guitar.
At any rate, as with the previous album, the keyboard bass gives the album an overall "programmed" sound. The percussion is prominent in the mix, and the textures vary nicely from song to song and verse to verse. As is typical for much 21st century Moroccan chaâbi, the production is a little too perfect for my ear. Still, Najat's singing is as powerful as ever, and it's hard to argue with the kicking, 13 minute medley that closes the album.
Apologies to those to whom I owe an email, shout out, or other overdue salaam! Wishing everyone a good and groovy New Year!
After the success of Nouveau 92, Najat Aâtabou did not return to the oud and bendir format of her earlier hits. Rather, she adopted various other instrumental combinations, moving eventually toward a more mainstream chaâbi sound.
I own copies of some of these cassettes (without j-cards), and have lost a few along the way. Also, some of these are available to stream or purchase online. So I'll mainly post here links to existing web resources and try to piece together her discography between Nouveau 92 and Attention Monsieur (2000).
Souaret (1993)
This album came out as a cassette on Edition Hassania in 1993. My copy went missing long ago, but I believe the j-card may have had this photo, which accompanies Amazon's version:
The production sounds similar to that of Nouveau 92, using the same funky synth bass on many tracks. I remember at the time being a bit disappointed with the album, feeling it was less hard-hitting than Nouveau 92, and contained no super-catchy single. Listening to it again now, though, it sounds like a breath of fresh air! It augments the unusual synth and viola texture of Nouveau 92 and fills it out with a more organic early-90s chaâbi orchestra: live strings, bendirs, full drum kit, and an occasional electric guitar. It's a more organic, orchestral overall sound. (Admittedly, I'm a sucker for the chaâbi sound of that era.)
And Najat's singing is spectacular. Those folks over at Edition Hassania really knew how to record her - whether accompanied by a simple oud-and-bendir ensemble or a full orchestra, her voice remains powerful and startling.
This is, I believe, the last album that Najat released on Edition Hassania. I used to have a copy of the cassette. Like the previous albums, this one is also driven by the viola. But the style is different here. Rather than a chanson moderne style of viola playing, hearkening to the smooth sounds of the modern Arab orchestra, here we have a straight-up dance-inducing chaâbi fiddle! The overall ensemble is more simple - bendirs, some oud and melodic keyboard here and there, and what sounds like a drum machine (hi-hat and some fills). Though a return to oud and bendir-s is nice, the chaâbi viola really dominates the mix and doesn't quite work for me. That being said, the tune "Baadou Lhih" is awesome and became part of her live repertoire.
The album's 6 tracks were remastered and released in the US as part of the Rounder compilation CD "Country Girls and City Women", which is out of print. It's worth finding a used copy of the CD - the booklet includes a nice essay, translations of all the song lyrics into English, and an interview with Najat. I can't find any streaming or download options for the album. Here's a YouTube playlist of the album's songs:
Sabara (1996)
I had a dub of this album, and I remember it being on label called something like "Safa Disque". (It wasn't the well-established Sonia Disque, with whom she would later record.) The leadoff track "Aatani Bedhar", also known as "Mali Ana Ma 3andi Zhar" was a smash hit - smooth chaâbi groups were covering it, and with its singalong chorus of "Wa-a-a-a-ayli", it was an instant classic, and one of Najat's biggest ever hits. I love it!
It was around this time that studio-produced chaabi in Morocco started to sound a bit too perfect and precise for my ears. Though rhythms were still driving and percussive, drum sets had given way to drum machines and programming, which could feel mechanical. Electric guitars for rhyhmic and chordal accompaniment were rarely found anymore, replaced by more versatile synthesizers, which could also add a variety of melodic textures. Even oud-s and violas began to sound more processed and perfect. I tend to like my chaâbi (and most music) a little on the sloppy side - I appreciate being able to hear the human interactions and imperfections.
That said, when all the elements come together in a studio production, it can be great, and that's the case throughout this album. The oud remains prominent in the mix, the real or synth strings (I can't always tell which) support without being overbearing, the rhythm section pops and crackles, the synth bass keeps things funky and in the pocket, and Najat and the backup choir sound great! A mega-post on the ARAB TUNES blog has this album, and many others by Najat!
Also, here'a YouTube playlist of the whole album:
Souvenir (1998)
According to this interview, Souvenir, like its predecessor Sabara, was produced by Najat's former husband Hassan Dikouk. It has a similar overall sound to Sabara, and Najat seems to have comfortably settled into a mainstream chaâbi setting. To my ears the sound is a little less punchy - a bit more emphasis on the viola and less on the oud, and the vocals seem more subdued. But when it works, like in "El Aati Houwa Allah" and "Daba Ytem El Nachat", it still kicks.
ARAB TUNES has this one as well, and here's the whole album on YouTube:
Et Oui Mon Ami, Parle Je T'écoute (1999)
My cassette copy of this (get it HERE) contains a track not available on streaming platforms - a spoken message from Najat to her public, presenting her new cassette, on which, she says, she has tried as always to move chaabi song forward, and that the most important measure of its success is "your entertainment, clapping, and pleasure".
I don't know what prompted the inclusion of this rather apologetic message. Perhaps her moves into mainstream chaabi were criticized by some sectors of the public. Or perhaps she was nervous about the leadoff track, which has a distinct Latin feel and a light programmed percussion track, straying further away from her roots than usual. (This was the era of Amr Diab's smash Egyptian hit "Habibi ya Nour el Ain". Unlike that track, though, Najat's does not include the soon-to-be-ubiquitous-in-Arabic-pop flamenco guitar.) On streaming versions of the album (like the YouTube playlist embedded below, or Amazon's version), there is a bonus track - a chill lounge remix of the title song, with light funk electric guitar and Middle Eastern strings replacing the punchy synth horns of the original.
Outside of the title track (which was not a big hit), the rest of the album features a pretty standard chaâbi texture, though a bit more sparse than the previous two albums. I couldn't quite put my ear on what was different at first. I heard a viola and a synth banjo, some restrained programmed rhythm with a live darbuka. There is a funky synth bass again, though it's very low in the mix as compared to the previous albums. The really key difference here, though is that there is NO BENDIR! Throughout all of her albums, whether based around the oud, the viola, or a full orchestra, the one constant is the presence of the buzzy bendir! On this one, though, the only buzzy timbre you can hear is the occasional taarija. The low percussive tones, are not buzzy booms, but clean synth bass drums. Which is a weird idea, but it sort of works for me.
The viola-centered sound of this album hearkens to 1995's Taqi Fia Allah, but with punchier rhythm and overall sound. Again, the chaabi viola isn't my favorite instrument to hear with Najat Aâtabou's voice, but this ain't bad.
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I saw Najat Aâtabou do a concert in Casablanca in 1999, and the only songs she did from any of these 5 albums were "Mali Ana Ma 3andi Zhar", from Sabara and "Baadou Lhih" from Taqi Fia Allah. But although these albums may not be packed with hits, there's worthwhile material on all of them. My ear for Moroccan lyrics isn't developed enough to critically assess Najat's 1990s songs in comparison to the earlier hits that brought her to fame. A lot of the same themes seem to pop up - complaints about romantic relationships, trying to keep things cool with mom, patience, acceptance, and calling out hypocrites. Her turn toward a mainstream chaâbi sound strikes me as a way for her songs of support and solidarity to resonate with a broader community of Moroccan sisters. At any rate that's my interpretation for now. Am happy to hear other opinions.
Wishing a blessed Ramadan to you all. Thank you for continuing to visit, even though I seem to only post about Najat Aâtabou these days! I promise I'll get some other stuff cued up soon...
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UPDATE: Here is another Najat album from the 90s that I didn't know about:
Glad y'all enjoyed the last Najat Aâtabou post. I'm working on new post about her recordings from the 1990s - keep an eye out for that soon.
In the meantime, while searching for things online, I stumbled across a set of video clips that were filmed to songs from the Nouveau 92 album. Thanks to YouTube user moussa barça for collecting and sharing these:
Nouveau 92! A new sound and a new look for Najat Aâtabou. And a huge hit with "Wahdi Feddar" ("Alone at Home"), a.k.a. "Goul El Hak El Mout Kaina" ("Tell the Truth... Death is Real"), "Hadi Kedba Bayna" ("This is an Obvious Lie"), "Kedba Bayna, or "Hai Hai Hai".
New sound: We've shared several of Najat Aâtabou's early, oud- and bendir-driven albums here at Moroccan Tape Stash. (See here.)
That stripped-down sound launched her to stardom in Morocco in the
1980's. (The one exception to this formula, in her early years, was a
fascinating orchestral album in the chanson moderne
style.) With "Nouveau 92", Najat went in a different sonic direction: the viola
leads the melodic accompaniment and a funky synthesizer bass underpins a
synth string section, while the rhythm section is driven by a darbuka
and what sounds like a hi-hat. (If a full drum set is present, it's
being played very lightly.) It's an unusual sound - not your typical
viola-driven chaâbi texture. Top it off with Najat's fierce vocals, and you have something nouveau!
Huge hit: "Hadi Kedba Bayna" was an instant classic! The refrain features the repeated line "Hai Hai Hai", which is both a great singalong and an interjection expressing disbelief or annoyance, something like "whoa" or "oi" in English. And the verses were basically rhyming couplets, calling out her man for cheating on her and then lying about it. It's the type of song that can easily be incorporated into any group's repertoire and to which other singers can add new, amusing, and thematically appropriate lyrics.
"Nouveau 92" was the first Najat Aâtabou album I ever heard. When I first visited Morocco in 1992, the album was huge, especially "Kedba Bayna". The album was at one point published on CD in France (now out of print). "Kedba Bayna" was included (as "Just Tell Me The Truth") on the 1995 US compilation Morocco: Crossroads of Time (also now out of print).
In 2006, I had returned from a summer in Morocco and was watching a ball game on American TV, when during a Budweiser commercial I heard the violin riff from "Kedba Bayna" over a techno beat. Fearing I was having hallucinations, I incredulously emailed some folks and found that "Kedba Bayna" had been sampled in the song "Galvanize", released the previous year by the Chemical Brothers, featuring Q-Tip! That, at least, is still in print! (And you can find the commercial on YouTube.)
Reissue notes, for the discographically inclined: Here at Moroccan Tape Stash, I usually give you the running order of tracks exactly as they appear on the tapes. Sometimes this running order differs from what is printed on the j-card. I usually prefer to be faithful to the way the tapes were heard in thousands of Moroccan cassette players rather than the way one person transcribed the song titles when the j-card was going to print. For this album, though, I am going to go with the j-card running order. The copy I'm sharing here is not my original 1992 copy of the cassette - that one is long gone - but rather one I obtained several years later (probably in the late 1990s). I have a strong memory of this album beginning with "Wash Nsiti?", and of "Wahdi Feddar (Kedba Bayna)" being buried somewhere in the middle of the side, as is listed on the j-card. On this cassette, however, "Kedba Bayna" leads off side A.
I'm guessing that once "Kedba Bayna" became a big hit, the song order was switched so that it would appear at the beginning of the cassette, where it could be more easily found. In those days, if you went shopping for cassettes and wanted a particular song, the tape seller would pop the cassette into a deck and play it, so you knew you were getting the correct tape. That's much easier to do when the song isn't somewhere in the middle of the tape.
So... I've resequenced the running order to match what is on the j-card, because that is closer to my memory of my original 1992 copy than running order of the copy I digitized here. (And also I like it better.) For the record, the running order on this late 90's copy is: A1-Wahdi Feddar, A2 Sir Dmou3i, A3 Wayli A Lalla, A4 Ya 3achiri, B1-Wach Nsiti?, B2-Parle je t'ecoute, B3-Marad al 3ali.
Najat Aâtabou نجاة اعتابو Nouveau 92 جديد Edition Hassania cassette EH1460 (1992)
1) Wash Nsiti? واش نسيتي؟ 2) Sir Dmou3i سير دموعي 3) Wahdi Feddar (Hadi Kedba Banya)
وحدي في الدار (هادي كدبة باينة) 4) Wayli A Lalla وايلي الالّة 5) Parle Je T'Ecoute 6) Ya 3achiri يا عشيري 7) Marad al 3ali ماراد العالي
Watch out, Mister! Najat Aâtabou sez: jealousy and suspicion will give you high blood pressure!
This album dates from 2000. It wasn't a huge success, but I enjoyed it at the time, especially the title track. In those days, Najat Aatabou was married to musician/producer Hassan Dikouk, who produced some of her hits of the 90s including the great 1996 smash Mali Ana Ma ândi Zhar. I believe the relationship had its ups and downs before they eventually divorced. (According to this 2016 interview with Dikouk, they split in 2002. However, they were still performing together as late as this clip from New Year's 2004-5.) This album apparently comes from one of the down times - she actually calls out Hassan by name at the end of verse one, substituting "A Hassan" for the anonymous "A Monsieur" (2:14).
The album, like most of Najat's, 1990s albums, has a mainstream chaâbi sound to it: viola, keyboards, and darbuka support her always strong vocals, along with a male response choir. I don't know why she chose to move away from the oud- and bendir-driven sounds that characterized her earlier albums. Whatever it was, her 1992 album in that vein was wildly successful, containing the smash Hadi Kedba Bayna, and subsequent albums followed a similar format. (That album used to be available on CD, but seems to be long out of print. Perhaps I'll digitize my tape copy for y'all - it's a good one!)
Najat Aâtabou - نجاة اعتابو Attention a Monsieur - أطونسيو أمسيو Edition Sonya Disque cassette T.C. 1780 (2000)
1) Attention a Monsieur أطونسيو أمسيو / Avec Moi أڤيك موا
2) A Lalla Hadri ‘Aynik ألالة حدري عينيك / Mali ‘ala Hali ماي على حالي
3) Bla Ma Tkdeb ‘Aliya بلا ماتكدب علي
4) Moulay ‘Abdellah Ben Hsein عبد الله بن احسين
5) Nta Lli Hayrtini أنت اللي حيرتيني
Here's one more old Najat Aâtabou tape for ya. This is the last one I own with her old line-up of oud and bendir-s. I wish I knew the name of the left-handed oud player who appears in the early Najat video clips I see online. I assume he's the same one who plays on these early-mid 1980's albums of hers. He always sounds great. Can anyone identify him?
I don't have a j-card for this tape, but the cassette shell is from Edition Hassania. "Ditih" and "Wardat Lejnane" appear on the out-of-print CD "The Voice of the Atlas", whose notes indicate that the songs date from 1986 or 1987. The song "Lillah ya S'haba" also appears on Najat's orchestral album, but I prefer this stripped-down version, which builds and builds 'til it bursts out into a joyous ululation-filled climax.
The version in this video is similar. Not quite as raucous as on the album. But it does feature a boat onstage, (at around 9:45 and forward) which is pretty awesome:
Side 2 of my tape is of sub-par audio quality, but Najat shines through nonetheless.
Najat Aâtabou - Lillah Ya S'haba (1986)
1) Lillah Ya S'haba
2) Ditih
3) Ana Mzawga Fik A Hnaya
4) Wardate Lejnane
PS - I've been working on a Lemchaheb post, but got caught up in a forest of metaphors, from which I'm still trying to extricate myself. Soon, incha'Llah.
Here's a live album from Najat Aâtabou released around 1985, not long after she first burst onto the Moroccan music scene. She's in fine form here, performing in Paris at The Olympia with oud,bendir-s, a darbuka and the backup singing of the male band members.
The album opens with an evocative (orientalist?) intro featuring audio snippets of a Middle Atlas ahaidous communal dance (one wonders if there was video at the concert as well) with a spoken narration extolling the bounties of Moroccan traditional music, before introducing Najat herself.
Tracks 3 and 4 are sung in her native Central Atlas Tamazight dialect, while the others are sung in darija (Moroccan Arabic). I've become obsessed in particular with Track 4, "Nikkine Admough" or "Ad 3mough Izri". Here's a different live performance, longer than the one on the album. The moment where the band stops and Najat continues singing a capella breaks my heart:
According to this interview and performance from Moroccan TV, the lyrics are about a woman who was separated from her lover because of travel. Upon her return she finds that he has died, and she cries at his grave. (A kind soul has also translated some of the lyrics from Tamazight to French in the comments.)
Another native speaker of Central Atlas Tamazight who found success using Arabic lyrics with Berber musical forms was Mohamed Rouicha. However, Rouicha recorded some entire albums in Tamazight, whereas I don't
think Najat ever released an album in Tamazight. I have found only a few
live performance clips on YouTube from her early days where she performs songs
in Tamazight. Conveniently, they are all linked from this page at izlanzik.org. I'd love to be proved wrong, though - does anyone know if she ever made studio recordings in Tamazight?
Najat Aâtabou at L'Olympia (EH1280)
1) intro
2) La Tbkich (= El Mektab)
3) Mani Lâhad
4) Nikkine Admongh
5) J'en ai Marre
6) 1, 2, 3
It's been a while since I posted any Najat - long overdue, now that I think about it.
Here's an oldie, circa 1985, when she was still using the basic ensemble of oud and bendir-s. The song "Koun Mâaya" (Be With Me) was the title track, and lyrics were featured on the j-card. The song features some sort of bass oud, or someone playing an octave down.
My fave tune, though, is the rocking "Tikka Ghalia" (Trust is Expensive), Here's a fab live version:
Najat Aâtabou - Koun Mâaya (EH 1300, 1985)
1) Koun Mâaya
2) Tikka Ghalia
3) Ach Ngoul Lih
4) Ha Nta Chouf
PS - it appears that Divshare has been down for several weeks, so all my embedded audio tracks are dead. Hopefully they'll come back online eventually, but who knows.
This is my favorite album by one of my favorite artists. If you're new to Najat, check here for my intro to her and her work. If you know her already, you know about her stunning voice, her groundbreaking songwriting, and the killer Middle Atlas grooves she rides.
This is, I believe, her second album, and it's a classic. The four great songs are performed in long versions, with no-nonsense arrangements, allowing singer and oud player to stretch out, ride the groove, and build intensity. The big hit was "Shoufi Ghirou", and fantastic it is. My fave track, though is the lead-off "Ach Dart Ana" ("What Did I Do?") - Mother, what did I do? By God, I haven't grown tired of you. This separation was brought upon us by the Lord.
I would have posted this earlier, but I've managed to lose the j-card somewhere in the stash, and it's a beautiful one. I kept hoping it would turn up, but to no avail. The only image I could find of it was on a rip of the cassette posted on Daily Motion:
The inside of the j-card features a lovely photo of a heartbroken Najat (with modern coif and dress) embracing a woman in a traditional jellaba. The embraced woman is shown from behind, so we don't see her face. It always seemed to me that the photo was meant to go with the song "Ach Dart Ana", posing a hope for reconciliation that isn't found in the song itself. If I ever find that j-card, I'll be sure to scan it for ya. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy these tunes as much as I do!
01) Ash Dart Ana
02) Shoufi Ghirou
03) Lin Hroubi
04) Ezzaida Melami
Here's another oldie from Najat Aatabou. I was always curious about this tape - All of her other albums from her debut in 1984(-ish) up to the mid-'90s were released on the Editions Hassania label. I'm guessing this tape, on the Nabilophone imprint, is an early one. It features the simple ensemble of her early Hassania cassettes - oud, bendir, darbuka, Najat's voice, and a male backing vocal section. This a great album with some classic tunes. I saw her in concert in 1999, and she included a couple of these in her set: "Halfa 'Alih" and "Sh'hal Suwwelt 'Alih".
** WARNING: SILLY MUSICOLOGICAL TANGENT AHEAD **
I've always found it unusual when a backing vocal group doesn't merely repeat lyrics sung by a lead singer but instead transposes those lines to the third person. I'm thinking of Elvis Presley's "Teddy Bear", where he sings "Oh let ME be...", and the backing vocal group, the Jordanaires, echo with "Oh let HIM be...". I wonder what factors into a composer/arranger's decision to use this technique rather than a straight repeat of the lyrics.
Off the top of my head, I'd think that the technique could be used for any of several reasons, among these:
a) dramatic reasons - to highlight the subject position of the lead singer's persona in the song;
b) gender reasons - when the lead singer is of a different gender than that of the choral group (i.e., when it might sound silly for a man to be singing the words just sung by a woman)
c) rhythmic reasons - e.g., in "Teddy Bear", Elvis sings "Oh let me be" to 4 straight quarter notes (not including the hiccups) - that is, all syllables are of equal duration. In the Jordanaires' echo, the rhythm changes to a syncopated one - the syllable "let" becomes a short one (an eighth note), followed by a longer "him" (quarter note). It would sound awkward to sing "let me" to this rhythm - "let him" sounds much more natural. (If you want to hear this, the phrase comes at about 0:15 in the clip below.)
Najat has a few songs that use this technique. On this album, the refrain of "Sh'hal Suwwelt 'Alih" features different lyrics when sung by Najat than when it is sung by the male response vocalists:
Najat
The Boys
Sh'hal suwwelt 'alih
'Ajbu-ni 'aynih
Jibu-li dak elloun
Jibu-li k'hel laayoun
Ana ken-bghih
Aha ken-mout 'alih
Sh'hal SUWWLAT 'alih
'Ajbu-HA 'aynih
Jibu-L'HA dak elloun
Jibu-L'HA k'hel laayoun
RAHA KET-bghih
RAHA KET-mout 'alih
For so long I've asked about him His eyes please me Bring me that kind Bring me the black-eyed one I want him I'm crazy about him
For so long SHE's asked about him His eyes please HER Bring HER that kind Bring HER the black-eyed one SHE wants him SHE's crazy about him
Since none of the changed lyrics come at the end of the line, the rhyme scheme remains intact.
Off the top of my head, I can't think of songs by other Moroccan artists that use this technique. But in Najat's repertoire, you can hear it in "Sh'hal Suwwelt 'Alih" (listen below) and in "Mali Ana Ma 'Andi Zhar".
On another silly tangent, I always liked the outfit Najat is wearing on the right panel of the j-card. I recently found a video from a live performance where she wears it. In fact, I think the photo comes from this performace:
1) Halfa 'Alih
2) Mchite ou Jite
3) Ach Blani Bik, Ach Dani Lik 4) Sh'hal Suwwelt 'Alih
Here's another goodie from Najat Aatabou, the siren of Khemisset, whose first album I posted here some time ago. As I mentioned then, my favorite recordings of hers keep the texture simple. In the early days, this was an oud and some percussion (bendir-s & maybe darbuka). This album, from around 1987, was, I believe, the first time she broke out of that style.
And what a way to go. You can tell this tape is something special because it has an extra fold-out panel at the right side of the j-card. The only Moroccan cassettes that get this sort of treatment are of the chanson moderne genre, where it is customary to list the lyricist, composer, and singer, in that order. (See, for example, the tape of Latifa Raafat I posted a few months back.)
Indeed, this is Najat Aatabou singing chanson moderne with a large, modern orchestra. Sort of like Hank Williams singing with the Nelson Riddle orchestra. Improbable, but it sort of works! The sharp, country edge of Najat's voice makes a nice contrast with the lush arrangements and melodies of Ahmed el Alaoui (who's written some nice stuff for other singers, including the song "Nasyak" on the aforementioned Latifa Raafat album.) It's an interesting combination, and I wonder what was the backstory to this cassette - Whose idea was it? How did it come to fruition?
Oddly, the j-card omits track 3, "Lillah Ya S'haba". It's listed on the cassette shell, so why isn't it on the j-card? It's the only track not written by lyricist Ali el Haddani and composer Ahmed el Alaoui. The out-of-print Globestyle album "The Voice of the Atlas" credits this song to Najat herself. She tends to compose her own material most of the time, but most chaâbi cassettes do not list composer credits.
"Lillah Ya S'haba" is an interesting song of Najat's. Unlike most of her compositions, which follow a simple verse/refrain form, this one is an extended long-form composition with several discrete sections. Yep, it's basically a chanson moderne form. Well done, Najat! The version on this album appears to be a live performance (dig the feedback at about 4:35). Here's a performance of the song with a more typical Najat backing group:
If you have the "Voice of the Atlas" album, then you already have all 4 of these tracks. Perhaps it's
understandable that a western release included these orchestral tracks - its target audience might get bored with a whole album of just oud and bendir-s.
Or perhaps the folks over at Editions Hassania, when approached for international licensing, chose to pitch these more "serious" tracks of Najat's. But these orchestral tracks are not what made Najat Aatabou famous - it
was the stripped-down stuff like this.
Don't get me wrong - I love
this album, it's just not the most "representative" of her work. If you
like the tape, you should seek out a copy of the Globestyle album - much
nicer digital transfers from the master tapes than my garage transfer
from an old well-loved cassette... (but you can hear the love, can't
you?)
One of the most individual female voices in Moroccan music, both sonically and artistically. Even when complaining about typical women's problems (sneaky men, jealous women, family estrangement..) from an underdog position, the strength of her voice makes her seem to be the one in charge of the situation.
Snippets of her biography can be found around the web, e.g. here, here and here. Before starting her professional career, she would sing informally at parties in her hometown of Khemmiset. Bootleg tapes of her performances began to appear in local tape shops, and her unapproving family eventually found out she'd been singing. To escape their wrath, she fled to Casablanca, where she began her career in earnest.
Najat Aatabou made an immediate impression on the Moroccan scene in the early '80s with a sound and songwriting style that hadn't been heard before. Like Roucha, crossover success by singing Middle Atlas Berber izlan-styled songs in Arabic (rather than Tamazight - though she occasionally records in her native Tamazight too). Her early recordings used a fairly traditional musical texture (though with the Arab oud rather than the typical Berber lotar). But the songs were anything but traditional. Women singing from a woman's perspective was nothing new - but Najat Aatabou's clever wordplay was something new, and she approached the issues not from the ambiguous, seductive position of the shikha, but as a modern soul sister, singing out to her contemporaries.
She remains popular today, though mainly among oldsters from my era. I think the last big hit she had was the great "Mali Ana Ma 3andi Zhar" in around '96. Over the years, she's achieved some international attention with CD releases on Globestyle and Rounder (both out of print). On the latter you can hear "Hadi Kedba Bayna" - the hit of the summer of '92, at least among the folks I was hanging with in Marrakech. This song was later sampled by the Chemical Brothers for "Galvanize".
Najat Aatabou has always maintained strong creative control of image, career. Instrumentation has changed over the years, but tends to be best when she sticks to a simple format where her vocals can shine with a basic Moroccan rhythmic and melodic accompaniment, which she uses most of the time.
(Though her orchestral tape from the late '80s is pretty awesome - I may post that at some point.)
This tape is, I believe, her first album, featuring the hit "J'en ai marre" (I'm sick of it). It's a shame most of her work is unavailable. Hope you enjoy this - I've got plenty more!
