Sofar Sounds fits snugly in Cairo’s DIY culture trend

Short-lived artist-run spaces, imaginary schools, newspapers set up by groups of journalists, rooftop supper clubs and online metal concerts — DIY initiatives seem to be all the rage in Cairo of late.

Against the backdrop of an ailing economy, crumbling infrastructure, an unwavering political agenda and laws that grow more repressive every time the power cuts, it’s not surprising that people are searching for small-scale, out-of-the-box, grassroots ways of creating and enjoying cultural activities.

In October, I was happy to hear that a similar initiative that began in a London living room has made it to Cairo’s growing music scene.

Sofar Sounds (an acronym for "Songs From A Room") started in 2009 in the context of a money-fueled music industry, where the term “live music” either translates into massive concerts (if you look real close you can just about spot the lead singer) or crowded bars or clubs (if you listen real hard you might be able to figure out which song is playing). To resuscitate the artist-audience relationship, Sofar stages “secret gigs” in non-public places, only making attendees aware of the location the day before and of the lineup when they get there.

The rules are simple enough: Register, show up on time, stay quiet and don’t leave until the end. And, for the love of all that is holy, don’t text during the performance. It sounds logical, but here in Cairo, many will attest to the fact that most gigs are marred by people talking over the music, wafting in and out, perhaps just going for the headliner or to support their friends, and ignoring the lesser-known performers.

In the summer, Karen O, frontwoman for American indie band the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, organized pre-release parties for her first solo LP, Crush Songs, through this quirky, underground initiative. Sofar gigs, which take place in 80-plus cities every month (each is taped and uploaded to a global YouTube channel) seemed the perfect way to get people around the world to listen to music in a focused, intimate environment.

Cairo never received O’s vinyl record, which is apparently still stuck at customs (her hand-drawn album artwork was deemed inappropriate by authorities), but Sofar Sounds Cairo’s Nora ElFangary, Alia Megahed and Aly Kassem managed to get their hands on the Crush Songs tracklist and fans enjoyed the exclusive listening session — albeit in digital format — along with the rest of the world on August 27. This was followed by a diverse lineup of local acts that included Ahmed Saleh and Abdullah Miniawy, Nadah El Shazly, Shady Ahmed and Digital Monkeys.

Having received a text message with an address the night before Cairo’s third Sofar concert in October, I walked into a beautifully furnished apartment overlooking the Nile on the island/cocoon that is Zamalek. Listeners were scattered around, sitting comfortably between mahogany bookcases and Moroccan poufs, sipping Stella and wine (which they had brought along themselves), while the acts sound checked and set up. My name was ticked off a list. I found a perch and waited, bemused by the fact that what looked like an impromptu get-together was possibly one of the best organized gigs I’d ever attended in the city.

Aya Metwalli kicked off the show with her mellow guitar and powerful voice, and as soon as she began, the crowd paid rapt attention. She had added a bluesy vocal twist and a minimal electronic beat to familiar tracks of hers, which worked well with her idiosyncratic lyrics and simple chord progressions.

RaSh Radio then took over with his acoustic ballads, issuing an advance warning that his set would be particularly depressing. People still seemed mesmerized, cross-legged on the floor, as if huddled around an imaginary campfire. The lineup ended with the Nour Project, a lively jam band headed by saxophonist Nour Ashour, and people quickly became immersed in the fun energy that took over the space. After everyone was all danced out, people cleaned up after themselves, socialized for a while and left.

I felt like I was in an alternate reality.

It turns out that after attending a Sofar concert in New York, Megahed became infatuated with the concept and got ahold of the fantastically named Sofar founder Rafe Offer via Skype. Megahed teamed up with friends Fangary and Kassem, was sent a starter pack over the summer, and the Cairo edition was born.

It all has an easygoing feel — no lines, no tickets, no bouncers — but retains a refreshing efficiency: You get exactly what you’re promised. Everything is volunteer-based; venues are offered by gracious hosts, and attendees are accepted on a first-come, first-served basis by registering online. Artists perform pro bono, but a high-quality video of their performance is uploaded to the YouTube channel, and they get acquainted with an audience who are there purely to enjoy the show. Fangary explains that artist selection is genre-blind, with the aim of providing exposure for interesting acts that don’t get much mainstream limelight.

Furthermore, there’s no external funding: Sofar gigs, which are free of charge, live off donations collected during the performance. If this doesn’t cover equipment rental and videographer fees, Fangary, Megahed and Kassem are able to pitch in out of their own pockets. The organizers also keep an eye out for no-shows and rowdy individuals, and attendee numbers are normally capped at 70 in an effort to ensure that all gigs retain a warm, comfortable vibe.

An aversion to bureaucratic hassles and the strings attached to institutional support have also driven many (who can afford to) to think creatively about organizational structures and shy away from traditional models in recent years. Examples include the now-defunct community space 10 Mahmoud Bassiouny (which relied on donations), the nearly two-year-old, self-funded artist-run space Nile Sunset Annex (which is a spare room in an apartment).

Sofar fits nicely into this trend, which creates solid — if small — communities around such activities, though it’s a practice more prevalent among the visual arts than music in Cairo.

This type of up-close-and-personal live music is not foreign to Cairo, of course. Cozy gigs are held at Bikya, a bookstore/café formerly in Maadi, ROOM, an art space/dance studio/café brought to a Garden City basement, and Balcon Lounge, the venue-in-a-flat in Heliopolis, as well as other smaller performance spots strewn about the city. Individuals have also pooled together imaginations and resources to create larger music ventures that still aim to retain an informal vibe, such as Marsa Alam’s 3alganoob and the Sinai-based Cloud 9, which are organized by small teams of friends and sustained through ticket revenues.

A similar strategy has recently been explored by Egypt’s heavy metal musicians — who in the past were famously the target of security crackdowns — in particular by Massive Scar Era, whose upcoming concert will be live-streamed from the living room of one of the band members.

When such endeavors are held in private venues, they manage to circumvent red tape regarding licensing and performances (and the bribes that go with them), ensuring that whoever wants to play can actually do so without financial backing or legal issues. The focus on the music listening experience that I witnessed at the last Sofar concert is pretty unique though, while the regularity of events and their intimacy builds momentum and a solid community base around the project.

Sofar Sounds Cairo may not be inventing the wheel when it comes to live performance, but the project does provide something I’ve been craving for the past few months: A space where you can forget about where you are and everything that’s happening around you, and just enjoy the music.

Register on the Sofar Sounds mailing list or get more information by checking out the Cairo page here.