‘We love life – but death loves us more’: the pain and power of Iraqi music
‘I heard an American Humvee approaching as soldiers were patrolling our area in Al-Qa’im, close to the Syrian border.” The Iraqi music producer UsFoxx is recalling a childhood memory, from 2004, during the Iraq war. “Through the open windows I heard this infectious beat, which I later learned was 50 Cent’s In Da Club. My jaw dropped.”
This unexpected but inspiring encounter was the first step of UsFoxx’s journey to becoming one of the many prolific producers and beatmakers in
Baghdad today. The position of music in Iraqi culture was badly distorted after the 2003 American-led invasion which silenced many voices or stunted their evolution, but 20 years later a new generation of eclectic artists has emerged – particularly in the aftermath of the political upheaval of the 2019-21 Tishreen uprising protests – with work spanning rap, techno, experimental music, jazz and beyond.
Speaking from a newly setup studio in Baghdad, UsFoxx is eager to share his music with me, “from house to Afrobeats; old school to new school trap”. Having moved from Iraq to India after Islamic State attacks in 2015, then weathered Covid lockdowns in 2020 in Iraq after he had returned, music was an outlet for his adventurous ear.
Like many of his contemporaries, UsFoxx is self-taught in music production, and the internet and satellite dishes allowed after a ban under the Saddam Hussein regime meant that his generation could absorb new influences and create new aesthetics. He made the beat for 2022’s Iraq Cypher which brought together sharp and witty socio-cultural lyricism from nine stellar Iraqi rappers – Kira The Blurryface, Armando Rap, Nayomi, Disser, KC Hamada, AlRong, Genesis, Odd Khalid and El Seen – over a drill-adjacent beat, and London-based Saudi DJ Nooriyah has played UsFoxx’s tracks in her hugely popular Boiler Room set last December. But he’s still melancholy amid the success: “Iraqi people have suffered so much untreated trauma – we Iraqis survive, we love life, although death loves us more,” UsFoxx says with a sigh.
Over in Basra, beatmaker Hafs is a similarly melancholic figure, with a sound fluttering between ambient pop, Afrobeats and trip-hop – his fragility and depth of emotion in contrast to the prevailing hypermasculinity in the war-torn country. He explains his motivation: “When I became depressed it was because of things that happened to me in the past, and our present is rooted in the past. So I became more aware that when I make music, I can channel my feelings to the listeners: my music can make them feel the sadness or happiness that I feel.”
Hafs started his career almost 10 years ago in rap battles on online forums, and refined his creativity into his hybrid sound, coupled with a philosophical and sentimental approach. “When someone hurts me, I don’t reply immediately – I relax and leave it, then make music and write about that pain,”