Banned! Tracing the Journey of a Lili Labassi Disc from Release to Censorship in the late 1930s

As the third night of Hanukkah approaches, I bring you one of my favorite records from Algeria (a disc which happened to enjoy a tremendous amount of success in Morocco - as you'll soon see).

We begin again with a question and a mystery. Did Lili Labassi, among the most popular of interwar Algerian recording stars, sing clandestinely about Moroccan political exile Allal El Fassi on his now difficult to find “Lellah yal ghadi lessahra” (O you, who is going to the Sahara)? According to French colonial authorities in late 1930s and early 1940s Morocco, he most certainly did. As a result, his Polyphon disc (issue number 46.117) was subjected to repeated ban throughout the Cherifian Empire in 1938, 1939, and 1940. To the French, his lyrics read as nothing less than subversive…and served as nothing less than a reminder to Moroccans to keep Allal El Fassi in their hearts. He was after, “still alive” (mazal hay mazal):

“O you who is going to the land of the gazelles!

If you find my love (ghazal/gazelle)

Tell him: He’s.. he’s still alive (mazal hay mazal)

No one can replace him in my heart…”

Lili Labassi re-release on Philips

But to most Moroccans at the time, the ambiguous “he” was heard as “she” - as is common in much of North African music (think: male singers longing for their habibi and not habibti). Thus, “he’s still alive,” was understood as “she’s still alive” (mazal hay mazal) and no one could replace “her in my heart.” In fact, in the massive search and seizure efforts undertaken by the French to find the Labassi disc, police discovered the record time and again in the brothels of cities like Casablanca, Rabat, Fez, Meknes, and Agadir. Why? Because Labassi’s “O you who is going to the Sahara,” was a love song (and seemingly a song to make love to as well).

Almost eighty years since its first ban, Labassi’s original is hard to come by. Despite the fact that it was released again on Polydor/Polyphon and also on Phillips, few copies remain. What we do have, however, is a version of “O you who is going to the Sahara” recorded by the inimitable Blond Blond, Lili Labassi’s musical disciple, which as you’ll hear, is fantastic, pulsing, and damn-near danceable.

One question remains, of course. Did Lili Labassi know that any of this was happening? Well, take a listen to his similar “Mazal haï mazal” (She’s still alive), released on the Pacific label in the 1950s and recently uploaded by Jon Ward on Excavated Shellac. Mazal haï mazal contains many of the same elements of “Lellah yal ghadi lessahra” although this version seems to lay any fears of political subversion to rest.

What is clear, however, is that Labassi’s song, first released in the mid-1930s, retained its popularity through the 1950s and some might argue until today.

Blond Blond performs Lellah yal ghadi lessahra live. Note: song is listed as "mazal hay mazal."

Mazal Haï Mazal: Eight North African Tracks to Light Your Soul On Fire

2014 came and went too quickly. I wanted to post more often but as so frequently happens, life got in the way. In lieu of my more regular posts, I offer you, “Mazal Haï Mazal: Eight North African Tracks to Light Your Soul On Fire,” as an end of the year treat. These are eight (one for every night of Hanukkah) of my favorite Moroccan and Algerian tracks (mostly on vinyl but one on cassette) and articulate a range of Maghrebi Jewish sounds - from Andalusian to chaabi to a song about the atomic bomb! Feel free to stream, download, and share.

Consider the title of this end of the year Hanukkah mixtape an Arabic-Hebrew play on words. Indeed for most of the mid-century North African Jewish artists featured here, “mazal” always carried two meanings. In Arabic, mazal meant “still,” as in Lili Labassi’s “Mazal haï mazal” (S/he’s still alive) - a track beautifully presented on the Excavated Shellac blog. But so too did mazal recall the Hebrew for “luck” or “fortune,” a point made by Labassi’s disciple Blond Blond, who sang, “mazal, c’est la chance,” in what is perhaps the only Algerian Hanukkah song ever to be recorded commercially. I say all of this to convey the following: treat my take on Mazal Haï Mazal in both of these senses. Not only is this music “still alive” but so too should we remember that it is through a combination of fortune and luck (and all of our good graces) that it continues to live on.

One last point before we get to the music. Treat this as a soft launch of a crowd funding campaign to turn my private record collection into a public sound archive. On my shelves are historical audio gems that deserved to be shared and I want to make that happen as soon as possible. In other words, keep an eye out on this site in 2015!

Best wishes for the New Year!

Songs in the Key of Chakchouka: the North African Light and Comic Chanson

An early Edmond Nathan Yafil comic monologue at 90 rpm.

Before David Guetta, there was his great grandfather Kiki Guetta. Born in Tunis at the end of the nineteenth century, Jacob “Kiki” Guetta championed neither popular nor Andalusian music but rather the North African comic song. Taking a cue from the light hearted repertoire then being refined on vaudevillian stages as far afield as Paris and New York, Guetta adapted the genre to Arabic, established his own troupe, and entertained mixed Muslim and Jewish cabaret audiences beginning in the earliest years of the twentieth century. When Gramophone released its first catalogue in Tunisia in 1910, Guetta’s discs were featured prominently.

Guetta, like his Moroccan and Algerian Jewish contemporaries who embraced the style, pushed the boundaries of the acceptable in public. On many of his records, he ridiculed those in power, poked fun at his compatriots, and drew attention to emerging social problems. But, as his successors would soon do, he sang about the more banal.

In some cases, the banal, or the light song, took the form of translated ditties, like Guetta’s Arabic version of La Petite Tonkinoise, while in other instances it meant connecting the latest international music trend - often Latin - to the local palate. Perhaps nothing exemplifies this better than the array of songs released toward the middle of the century on the subject of chakchouka, the North African tomato and egg delicacy that many of us have come to know and love. Imar Maghy, for instance, a Tunisian Jewish comic of the 1950s and 1960s, would set “chakchouka” to cha cha cha, pepper it with Arabic, and serve up wildly popular results. Even if the tune has little to do with cuisine itself, one can surely appreciate the identitarian aspect of it. You will find a taste below.

Not to be outdone was the Algerian Blond Blond, who sang about both the merguez sausage and chakchouka, and his Sétif-born colleague Alberto Darmon aka Staïffi (and his group: ses Mustaphas), who made his version of “chakchouka” into a dance number while also putting the culinary delights of the Belkacem restaurant - rhyming the Arabic word for “beans” with the French for “unforgettable” - to a foot-tapping harmony.

Blond-Blond...Les merguez , version swing by marco68700

Of course, there is much more to be said on the subject of Jews and comedy in North Africa in the first half of the twentieth century but an outline will have to suffice for now. Comic monologues and songs can be counted as among the earliest pieces to be recorded on wax cylinder across the Maghreb. In Algeria, the impresario Edmond Nathan Yafil would bring the scène comique to large audiences, impressing none other than Mahieddine Bachetarzi, who himself would take Algerian comedy and theater to the next level.

I would also be remiss in not mentioning that a number of these pioneers of comic song, along with their stand-up counterparts, made their way to France and Israel around mid-century, including the Moroccan Maurice Lusky, who can be heard below doing his classic “drunkard” sketch with Raymonde El Bidaouia.

I will have to leave it here but welcome further thoughts and comments. In the meantime, good listening, bon appétit, and b’saha!

Show this Saturday at JCC + Cheikh Mwijo, Lili L'abassi & Shimon Bar Yohai

Come listen to Cheikh Mwijo and others this Sat., May 26th at JCC Manhattan

I'll be spinning rare North African records this Saturday night, May 26th for a set called Sheikh it, Baby! Arabic Music, Jewish Musicians. The set is part of the wonderful Tikkun Leil Shavuot program at the JCC Manhattan. I go on at 12.30 am (technically May 27th) in the 4th floor studio. I'm adding some recent killer finds to the playlist, so bring a friend and come check it out. The full schedule of events can be found here.

Judeo-Arabic song verse in praise of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai
Composed by Albert Suissa and printed in Casablanca (1950s)

Tikkun Leil Shavuot in its current form is a modern twist on an ancient tradition. Shavuot marks the anniversary of the Israelites receiving the Torah from God. One tradition relates that the Israelites prayed and studied for three days and nights in anticipation of receiving the Torah and so, we emulate this all-night regiment to remember and recreate this sacred study session.

Shavuot (meaning weeks in Hebrew) comes seven weeks after Passover. If you've been following the news or my Twitter feed (www.twitter.com/jewishmorocco) lately, you may have noticed an uptick in Jewish pilgrimages (hilloulot in Hebrew) over the last couple weeks in Morocco and Tunisia. These pilgrimages to Rabbi's tombs usually fall on or right around Lag B'Omer, a holiday that occurs 33 days after Passover and which marks the anniversary of the death of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai, a 2nd century Rabbi and disciple of the famed Rabbi Akiva. According to lore, Lag B'Omer is also the date that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai revealed the Zohar, the foundational text of Kabbalah.

Now the tie-in for all of this is something I've written about before and that is the fascinating convergence of the sacred and secular in North African Jewish music. For example, the melody for Samy Elmaghribi's scandalously secular Kaftanek Mahloul (Blond Blond performs it here) was quickly incorporated into liturgical poetry for the synagogue in 1950s Morocco and beyond (Binyamin Bouzaglo performs El Hay Ram Gadol to the tune of Kaftanek Mahloul here).

I recently discovered another track that made the transition from secular to sacred. Lili L’abassi was born Elie Moyal in Sidi Bel Abbas, Algeria in or around 1909. By his early 20s, he was already being referred to as Cheikh for his mastery of the violin and Arabic song. His popularity rose steadily in the 1930s and 1940s and he can be thought of as the Jewish Hadj Mohammed El Anka in terms of popularizing chaabi music. One of his most popular songs is Wahran El Bahia (Oran the Brilliant/Shining/Beautiful) and is an ode to the city that has produced some of Algeria's greatest musicians, past and present. Wahran El Bahia has become the unofficial anthem of Oran and continues to be sung to this day.

Below is a clip of the song being performed by El Gusto, a Jewish and Muslim orchestra originally formed in Algeria in the 1950s and recently reunited. The musicians of El Gusto, now in their 70s through 90s, had lost touch post-Algerian independence and were brought together over the last few years thanks to the efforts of the filmmaker Safinez Bousbia, who captured this story in her compelling documentary. Make sure you see this film El Gusto, if you haven't already.

Pay close attention to the very animated violinist and singer in this El Gusto concert recording because it is none other than Robert Castel, son of the great Lili L'abassi. To the right, you can also make out Luc (or Lili) Cherki. Play the song in its entirety once or twice, so you get a real feel for the melody.

Check out this 1970s recording by Cheikh Mwijo in Israel. It's called Meron El Bahiya and is a pretty amazing piece about Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai. Mt. Meron (in Israel) is the pilgrimage site for the Lag B'Omer holiday and the burial place of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai. Lag B'Omer and Rabbi Shimon Bar Yohai have long been popular song topics for Jewish North African recording artists. One of my most interesting 78s, for example, is a 1950s recording of a Lag B'Omer hilloula in Tlemcen, Algeria. Now take a close listen to the Cheikh Mwijo song below. This is the same melody and refrain as Lili L'abassi's Wahran El Bahiya but with Meron swapped for Oran! The sacred has again adopted the secular.


While you're pondering all of this, I'm going to give another shoutout to my twitter feed and mention that you can like this blog on Facebook (www.facebook.com/jewishmorocco). I'll be posting some exciting news soon...so keep an eye out.

Blond Blond Sings Samy Elmaghribi + Upcoming Gigs

Lady, Your Robe is Open!

I'm heading out of town for the holidays but didn't want to leave everyone hanging. I just digitized the B side of the Blond Blond EP I posted for Hanukkah. This is Blond Blond performing Samy Elmaghribi's scandalous classic - Kouftanek Mahloul (your robe is open in Maghrebi Arabic). In this song, the singer flirts with a woman (Ya lalla - as you will hear throughout) who clearly belongs to someone else. This song has mythic origins and according to this article in Ha'aretz was rumored to be a response by Samy Elmaghribi to accusations that he was having an affair with a member of Morocco's royal family. He vehemently denied this and said that in fact almost the opposite was true - it was he who was being pursued! Whatever the truth is, this was his comeback and it packs a punch. Many a North African musician has performed this song but there is something about Blond Blond's delivery that just makes you want to dance. Go for it.

Blond Blond - Kouftanek Mahloul - Dounia 1278 (1970s) by CBSilver

Upcoming Shows

January 14 and 15 at Limmud NY

• January 14: Sheikh it Baby: Arabic Music, Jewish Musicians
• January 15: Israel's Arabic Singing Jewish Musicians

January 26 and February 2 at JCC Manhattan

• January 26: Jewish Musicians in North Africa at 78 RPM: 1904–1956 
• February 2: The Untold Story of Israel's Arabic Singing Jewish Musicians

Finally, I will be in Los Angeles from January 18 - 22. If you have ideas for venues where I can spin this music, let me know / email me.

Happy Hannouka from Jewish Algeria and Blond Blond

Albert Rouimi aka Blond Blond

I know it looks misspelled but El Bonco – Hannouka is one of the greatest Hanukkah songs that you’ve never heard – courtesy, of course, of the master Algerian Jewish singer Blond Blond. Albert Rouimi, who was given the moniker Blond Blond due to his Albinism, was born in 1919 in Oran, Algeria. From a young age he frequented the cafes that featured legendary Orani musicians like Saoud L’Oranais, Maurice El Medioni’s father, and Reinette L’Oranaise. His influences ran across both sides of the Mediterranean, he was deeply affected by the music of Charles Trenet and Maurice Chevalier for example, and he found himself going back and forth between France and Algeria for much of his career. In 1937, he left for Paris only to return to Oran two years later. It’s unclear how the rise of Vichy France played into this but needless to say Blond Blond left Paris in 1939 and returned only after end of World War II.

Back in Oran, he became known as l’Ambianceur for his unique style of singing and his staccato-like spoken word that interspersed his music. While Blond Blond could make an audience laugh there was also no doubt that he was truly a master musician with significant technical knowledge. He was fluent in the Andalusian repertoire, nailed it in French, commanded chaabi (especially the musical styling of Lili L’abassi) and pioneered the Francarabe style, a mixture of French chansons and Arabic chaabi.

Blond Blond. Kouftanek Mahloul et El Bonco Hannouka. Dounia. #1278. 1970s

He released dozens of records throughout his career, including many on 78 rpm, and recorded for everyone from Pathe to Samyphone to Dounia. He not only performed from his own work and with his own orchestra but also collaborated with some of the finest musicians of his day like Reinette L’Oranaise, Samy Elmaghribi and Line Monty.

Thanks to Phocéephone for this great digitization of Blond Blond’s El Bonco – Hannouka below. Looks like the original Phocéephone link is dead but luckily I found a mislabeled Youtube video of the same tune. Notice that Blond Blond quickly switches languages at the beginning of the track and will do so throughout including when he sings about Hanukkah. Listen carefully at the beginning when he sings, “le mazal c’est la chance.” Mazal is Hebrew for luck.

Ignore the "Ghir Ajini Ajini" - this is indeed El Bonco-Hannouka

Blond Blond was one of the few Jewish Algerian musicians that performed in Algeria post-independence and gave two memorable performances at the Koutoubia music hall in Algiers in 1970 and 1974. Blond Blond, l’Ambianceur, died in 1999 at the age of 80.

Happy Hanukkah to everyone and please make sure to spread this around.