سماع [Ahmed] – [Sama’a] (Audition) (Otoroku, 2025) ~ The Free Jazz Collective

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

Ahmed’s new double LP made it on my top two for another year. That’s
certainly the least important thing, fact or whatever that you will read in
the following words. The quartet, consisting of the same line-up over a
decade now, defies firstly categorization and, secondly, the short-lived
nature of groupings and collectives around improvisational musics.

But should Ahmed be labeled or tagged under improvisation? I think not. Not
because their music lacks the magic of this practice. Not at all. It’s
probably (and I want to use this word a lot as many elements of their music
lie in grey zones that, many times, are difficult to pin down or, even,
identify) because what they try to achieve is far more interesting,
intriguing and difficult.

And what that is exactly? Well, here is another grey zone, while I’m
entangled by my own subjectivity and fondness of their music –all at the
same time. I liked Ahmed’s music right from the start, I’m proud to say that
I have been a champion of their music from the very beginning. Apart from
being proud, I’m happy because I see (or feel, it seems more fitting) that
the vision of four individuals, that is four musicians, can still infiltrate
into a collective summary.The music of Ahmed. And that is, certainly, not an
easy task. As someone who finds it hard and difficult to share his image and
hope for this world, I must (we all must) acknowledge those who
struggle, share, and succeed to present their image as a collective force
and exchange of ideas. Those people are, among of the few as the trajectory
of modern societies moves rapidly into creating solitary beings, the four
musicians, from all over Europe, that construct the music of Ahmed.

Someone would comment that Ahmed’s music is not new by definition. Yes, the
easy answer would be that it is a re-working of Ahmed Abdul Malik’s music.
This preoccupation with “newness” and all this faux progress is what modern
capitalism is selling us in order to keep us happy, while the planet is
collapsing. Some, rhetorical maybe, questions about the aforementioned
thought: how can someone distinguish between old and new? Is anything really
new, so, per se, totally freed from the past? Should, anything, be totally
freed from the past? Is the present and, subsequently, the future a
continuation of the past? Is it better? And what “better” exactly is? I
could go on like this, as those questions are at the core of this reviewer’s
thoughts (and so is Ahmed’s music, ha!), but you get the idea I believe.

Where Ahmed’s music stands in all this? Well, if you ask me (or listen to
the music and ideas of it and decide on your own) it doesn’t answer any of
the above in particular and it does, very passionately, at the same time.
Malik’s music, any music of importance, comes from the past and continues
into the future. The present is the medium, the place where the two (past,
future) collide. But they are not for sale; they have nothing to do with the
mythology of the great past, or the capitalistic orthodoxy of the
optimistic, “better”, “progressive” future.

Ahmed’s music is totally into the three dimensions (past, present, future)
because it is uncontrollably avoiding time categories. So, in a way, it is
so against the amenities of the society of the spectacle (capitalism, again,
that is) where everything is defined so to be tagged with a price. It is
also aggressive, passionate, full of energy, maybe a little bit free jazz,
also consisting of fragments of collective improvisation. Drums, double
bass, alto sax and a piano.

Not that it matters to you dear reader, but I surpassed the five hundred
word limit that I have on my writings for this site. The only reason for
this, is that Ahmed’s music is important. A rare occasion, idea and
feeling indeed.

Listen:

@koultouranafigo