The tracks on WeWantSounds’ release Ayam El Disco: Egyptian Disco, Boogie, and Jeel Cassettes 1978-92 come from the collections of Disco Arabesquo (Moataz Rageb), an Egyptian-born, Amsterdam-based DJ with a wealth of cassettes from the subtitled scenes. After 2022’s Sharayat El Disco, this is his second curation for the label, and offers a broader temporal and textural range. It’s a focus specific enough for a cohesive album but broad enough to allow for unpredictable directions, keeping the listener on their proverbial toes as they move from track to track, taking in particularly Egyptian iterations of familiar retro dance pop styles.
Certainly, while the selections here are unmistakably products of 1970s global exchanges, they are just as clearly inflected by a range of pop, folk, and art styles based in Arab traditions. Mostafa el Sakka’s “Rezq El Ein” exemplifies this, opening with a gorgeous blend of smooth synthesizers, bass grooves, and intricate oud lines that lead into swirls of melismatic vocals over tight, minimal drum machine beats.
Firkit Hany Shenoda strikes a very different balance by shooting laserlike blips across fields of strings before adding in unmistakable disco beats. Later in the record, Firkit El Pharana’s violin-laced “Ya Habiby” sounds like classic 20th-century tarab music (perhaps overlapping with a little northerly schlager) with a slinky, smoky low end that gives it some true dance-floor potential.
Elsewhere, hefty synths emphasize the plugged-in nature of cassette-era aesthetics. Omar Fathy’s “Beteghdaby” builds a dense jam on crisp electronics. Madhat Saleh’s “El Milionerat” has a brightly colored and amplified bombast that makes it campily irresistible. There’s a hint of lo-fi warble that undercuts Aida El Ayoubi’s gentler “Asfour,” an emotional ballad that immediately evokes jazzy 1980s synthpop with classical Egyptian instrumentation.
Taken together, the first and last track make for an especially representative combination. Fikrit Americana Show’s “Seeb Alby” is the most straightforward disco track, sensuous vocals and luscious instrumentation making it instantly identifiable as such. The album closes with “Little Up” by firebrand shaabi singer Ahmed Adaweyah, a track that stays much closer to its Egyptian roots. That, in a nutshell, demonstrates Ayam El Disco’s scope, from the most globally legible dance music to the most regionally specific, from polished to raw, electric to acoustic. It is an impressive array, especially remarkable for being only 11 tracks long. This variety is important in emphasizing the diversity of Egyptian dance scenes.
Perhaps this is Ayam El Disco’s key contribution to the ever-growing catalogue of archival compilation albums at WeWantSounds and beyond. It’s a well-curated mix, each track interesting. It is not so cohesive that it all runs together, nor so eclectic that it becomes jarring. It’s a fine, careful assembly of work that celebrates and beautifully frames some of the music that kept people stepping lively in the 1970s, 1980s, and even the 1990s in Egypt. As the album flows, the body wants to move, and even though this is not a dance mix per se, there is plenty of room for a good time in listening to Ayam El Disco.