Saturday, January 24, 2026

Issam Hajali - 1977 - Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard

Issam Hajali
1977
Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard



01. أنا ضمير المتكلم = Ana Damir El Motakallim
02. مواصلات إلى جسد الأرض = Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard
03. خبز = Khobs
04. لم أزل = Lam Azal
05. عاد = Ada
06. يوما كنا = Yawma Konna
07. انتظرني = Intazirne

Vocals, Guitar – عصام الحاج علي
Bass – Jean Francois
Drum – Mirzac
Guitar – روجيه فخر
Percussion – ميشيل بقلوق
Piano – Patrick Penet
Santoor – Mahmoud Tabrizi-Zadeh

Recorded in one day in Paris (May or June 1977)




Issam Hajali's Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard (Journey to the Body of the Earth / Communication to the Body of the Earth) is a rare, deeply personal debut album from 1977, originally self-released in an extremely limited run of approximately 75–100 cassette tapes during the Lebanese Civil War.

Berlin-based Habibi Funk Records reissued it officially in November 2019 as Habibi Funk 010 (vinyl, CD, digital), mastered from Hajali's sole surviving copy, with an extensive booklet. The album fuses Arabic folk traditions (notably the santour), jazz, progressive/folk rock, early synthesizer elements, and poetic politically engaged lyrics, capturing homesickness, exile, cultural reconnection, and revolutionary undertones amid war and displacement.



Hajali emerged in mid-1970s Beirut as singer and guitarist in the progressive rock band Rainbow Bridge, whose debut record charted locally. He was a militant leftist politically active against the Western-backed Maronite establishment and involved with left-wing causes and the Palestine Liberation Organisation context during rising tensions.

The Lebanese Civil War erupted in 1975; Syrian intervention in 1976 brought devastation to Beirut. As a politically ultra-left figure, Hajali fled with his wife first to Cyprus, then Paris in 1976/early 1977. Exile was harsh: factory and supermarket work, poverty, cultural alienation in immigrant musician communities (many Arab). This period prompted deep self-reflection—he shifted from taking Lebanese/Arabic traditions for granted (favoring Western artists like Peter Green, Joni Mitchell, Weather Report) to a "rebirth" through re-exploring roots, traditional music, and heritage questions amid war and displacement.

He recorded his solo debut in Paris (May/June 1977), returned to Beirut late 1977, founded the influential folk/jazz/rock band Ferkat Al Ard ("Earth Band")—with Hajali as singer/main composer—which released three albums: Oghneya (1979, highly collectible vinyl; copies fetched thousands USD), Tamul'at Alkuz Fi Tamuz (1983), and Hi'ja (1985). The band carried political overtones rooted in the war era.

Hajali collaborated with Ziad Rahbani (Fairouz's son; appeared on Abu Ali 1978 and others; Rahbani discovered a cassette and played/collaborated), Roger Fakhr (reissued material), and later artists like Tania Saleh. By 1980, he withdrew from activism, earned a Master's in philosophy (early 1990s), remarried, had children, and built a quieter life. As of the late 2010s/2020s, he runs a jewelry shop in Beirut, sells compositions to other artists, has near-complete new material (~80%), but has not performed publicly in years. The 2019 reissue brought international acclaim to his overlooked early work.

Hajali recorded Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard in one intensive studio day in Paris with a pickup multinational band (French musicians, Algerian, Iranian, plus Beirut friend/mentor Roger Fakhr; specific names mostly lost). Budget constraints meant seven tracks captured largely in single takes, with vocal/santour overdubs. Upon returning to Beirut, he added minimal percussion to "finish" it. Unable to find a label amid wartime chaos and economic hardship, he personally dubbed black-and-white cassette copies at a corner store (~75–100 total), distributing/selling them to friends, family, and one consignment shop (poorly promoted; tapes often hidden). Ziad Rahbani acquired a copy, admired it, and connections followed, but the album stayed obscure outside a tiny Beirut circle of like-minded musicians. Hajali kept only one copy himself—the source for the Habibi Funk reissue.

The title carries rich meanings: transportation/communication, returning to roots, emotional/physical connection—mirroring exile, heritage reconnection, and political longing.

The album is a raw, passionate, immediate hybrid: melancholic stripped-down guitar-based folk giving way to jazz-fused breaks, funky rhythms, choppy jazz/prog guitar chords, Fender Rhodes, early analogue synth solos (futuristic/wild), and the distinctive glistening hammered santour (Iranian/Arabic/Middle Eastern dulcimer). Structures are atypical (not strict verse-chorus), making it accessible yet experimental/progressive. Vocals are winsome and wistful, conveying nostalgia, displacement, hope, and passion. Guitar work is precise and exceptional (comparable to Nick Drake, Bert Jansch, James Taylor). Production feels intimate and urgent due to one-day constraints, with a slick/shiny prog-rock edge blended with traditional elements—far from generic "fusion," it's steeped in Lebanese/Arabic cultural and historical context.

It foreshadows Ferkat Al Ard's sound but feels more personal/solo-oriented. Lyrics are primarily from Palestinian revolutionary poet Samih al-Qasim (reflecting persecution, resistance, roots), with one track by Hajali; themes are politically engaged, poetic, socially conscious (exile, war, identity, revolution).


Originally obscure and nearly lost, the Habibi Funk reissue (2019) positioned it as a "lost classic" and true gem of Lebanese/Arabic fusion—praised for emotional depth, sonic uniqueness, historical resonance, and archival value in spotlighting underrepresented music from war-torn eras. Reviews highlight its raw energy, cultural synthesis, homesickness-infused performances, and role as a bridge to Ferkat Al Ard/Ziad Rahbani scenes. It stands as a poignant document of personal/political turmoil, innovative in blending traditions with prog/jazz/synth in the Lebanese context, and now appreciated globally by collectors and world music fans.

In summary, Mouasalat Ila Jacad El Ard is an essential, intimate artifact: a one-day exile recording that distills war-era longing, cultural rebirth, and musical daring into ~35 minutes of haunting, forward-looking beauty. The Habibi Funk edition makes this hidden Lebanese treasure widely accessible with proper context and fidelity—highly recommended for fans of Arabic fusion, 1970s folk/psych/prog, politically poetic songwriting, or overlooked global gems.

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