I Heart Wust El Balad...
So last night/tonight I dragged myself out to a place called After 8 for a friend's last hurrah on the town before she returns to the states (it's that time of year...all the goodbyes are making me rather maudlin). After 8 resembles a cozy dinner club most of the evening, but around 11pm or so the most famous local band in Egypt, Wust El Balad ("Downtown"), performs five nights a week.
To hear Wust El Balad play at After 8 is to immediately fall in love with these six fabulous musicians (seven if you include their sound engineer/roadie/occasional tambourine man)...they play a crowd-pleasing mix of Arabic and Spanish pop music (think if the Gipsy Kings were a touch more poppy, Arab and less inbred) that is catchy without being vapid. As far as anyone knows, they've never recorded any of their music (at least not for public consumption), so the only way to hear them is to go to one of the two venues they play live every night of the week. To be honest, I don't know that I'd ever want to hear them on a CD...part of the thrill is to see them perform, for they are great performers who immediately endear themselves to anyone who comes within earshot.
The atmosphere at After 8 is something not to be missed, either. For starters, the band performs in, essentially, a little room with a big hole in the wall facing out onto the dining room/dance floor. Behind the band, there's a wall lined with footlockers; to their right, an exposed brick wall; and overhead, a rickety wooden slat ceiling that's seen better days. It's like watching life-size budget puppet theater...although the first thing I thought of, actually, was the Muppet Show (I challenge any of you to come see them and tell me I'm wrong). The dance floor becomes packed with bougie young socialites, bougie middle-aged socialites, giddy young tourists and, oh, the occasional odd handful of ex-pats and academic-types letting their hair down. The energy is so feel-good it's absolutely infectious; I couldn't bear to tear myself away until 2am when the band finished their last set and the crappy DJ began spinning a canned mix of techno beats that sounded like they came out of the nearest muscle gym soundtrack.
I have a feeling getting up in the morning (oh wait! It's morning *already*...) is going to be a bear, but it was worth it. Besides, I figure I should start getting used to this as I have a feeling Wust El Balad is going to become an addictive staple of my Cairo diet...
To hear Wust El Balad play at After 8 is to immediately fall in love with these six fabulous musicians (seven if you include their sound engineer/roadie/occasional tambourine man)...they play a crowd-pleasing mix of Arabic and Spanish pop music (think if the Gipsy Kings were a touch more poppy, Arab and less inbred) that is catchy without being vapid. As far as anyone knows, they've never recorded any of their music (at least not for public consumption), so the only way to hear them is to go to one of the two venues they play live every night of the week. To be honest, I don't know that I'd ever want to hear them on a CD...part of the thrill is to see them perform, for they are great performers who immediately endear themselves to anyone who comes within earshot.
The atmosphere at After 8 is something not to be missed, either. For starters, the band performs in, essentially, a little room with a big hole in the wall facing out onto the dining room/dance floor. Behind the band, there's a wall lined with footlockers; to their right, an exposed brick wall; and overhead, a rickety wooden slat ceiling that's seen better days. It's like watching life-size budget puppet theater...although the first thing I thought of, actually, was the Muppet Show (I challenge any of you to come see them and tell me I'm wrong). The dance floor becomes packed with bougie young socialites, bougie middle-aged socialites, giddy young tourists and, oh, the occasional odd handful of ex-pats and academic-types letting their hair down. The energy is so feel-good it's absolutely infectious; I couldn't bear to tear myself away until 2am when the band finished their last set and the crappy DJ began spinning a canned mix of techno beats that sounded like they came out of the nearest muscle gym soundtrack.
I have a feeling getting up in the morning (oh wait! It's morning *already*...) is going to be a bear, but it was worth it. Besides, I figure I should start getting used to this as I have a feeling Wust El Balad is going to become an addictive staple of my Cairo diet...
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