Trumpeter Yazz Ahmed's Arabic Jazz Fusion is a Beautiful Testament to the Power of Hybrid Identity
‘Malala Yousefzai’, by Sophie Bass, 2020.
Words and Interview by Dalia Al-Dujaili
When Bahraini-British Yazz Ahmed was nine, she picked up the trumpet after being inspired by her grandfather, and hasn’t put it down since. Despite sexism in the industry and a struggle to come to terms with her hybrid identity, Ahmed is now a self-assured and powerful player who’s earned herself the title of Jazz FM’s Act of the Year 2020 and winner of the Ivors Innovation Award 2020. Following features in Clash and enjoying sets alongside giants such as Radiohead and Lee Scratch Perry, Yazz Ahmed is a beacon for the future of fusion music. Heralded as the ‘High priestess of psychedelic Arabic jazz’, her music is vibrant, dynamic and soulful, invoking the colour and movement of the Middle East alongside slower, soothing jazz rhythms.
Following the release of her most recent album, Polyhymnia, which was accompanied by six enchanting artworks by Sophie Bass inspired by and named after influential women, we had the honour of sitting down with the musician to hear about her journey so far and get a better taste for the wonderfully versatile world of modern jazz.
I really loved what you said in Clash magazine; “I actually feel like I am just a small cog in the jazz world… I hope that through my music I can bring people together, building bridges between cultures and changing perceptions about women in jazz and about people of Muslim heritage.”
Being a woman of Muslim heritage, I was wondering how you think that the arts can help other women of Muslim backgrounds to explore the arts more?
I think the important thing is visibility. If you see someone who looks like you or who comes from a similar background, that's very inspiring. It's encouraging. I didn't see anyone like me out there doing music, so I did feel a bit lost as to where I belonged. I think a lot of people do need people to look up to, especially if you're learning or you're new, in whatever world it may be.
So that would mean, for example, in music venues and festivals, booking a more diverse program. I know that the British Council does a lot of bridge-building work. They're working on a project in Saudi Arabia where they set up classes for Saudi women to learn how to write poetry. They're giving them a voice without being intrusive or without making them feel uncomfortable.
‘Haifaa Al-Mansour’, by Sophie Bass, 2020.
How did the Arabic elements come into it? And why do you want to include those Arabic elements in your music?
I grew up in Bahrain, my dad is Bahraini but my mum is English. During my childhood in London, I adapted to British culture and forgot about my Bahraini roots. At school, it wasn't cool to be somebody from a Muslim background. So I kept all that quiet. And then when I started to become more aware of my identity, in my late teens and early twenties, I started to look back to my childhood and tried to remember the life that I had there, the happy memories of the music and the food and the family gatherings. I think that a way of embracing that mixture of cultures was through music.
I incorporate Arabic music by using certain characteristics like the belly dancing grooves, or the spirit of improvisation, which beautifully connects with jazz. Traditional music is very popular in Bahrain. That is the music of the pearl divers, the songs they would sing when they go out to sea, and the celebratory songs sung by women. That's very important in the culture.
I've tried to find inspiration from these songs by actually going to Bahrain and recording people singing these songs and taking those recordings back. Thereby creating my own melodies by chopping up these recordings. It's a mishmash, and it seems to work. It's nice because I don't think I'm too much on one side or the other, it feels right to me.
When did you start playing the trumpet?
I started playing when I was nine. I was actually inspired by my grandfather. He was a jazz trumpet player in the 1950s and a record producer. I always looked up to him and I thought playing the trumpet was really cool! My mom told us that the school I was going to was offering music lessons. So she asked us, me and my sisters, what we'd like to play and for me, it was obviously the trumpet. It wasn’t till I was about 19 I decided that I'd like to take it as a career path.
‘Rosa Parks’, by Sophie Bass, 2020.
Who were some of your early influences in terms of your style?
My grandfather gave me loads of records, all sorts of genres; jazz, heavy metal, folk, and all sorts of crazy stuff. So I was exposed to a lot of different types of music. But I remember he gave me a couple of Dizzy Gillespie records which I really enjoyed. And I would play along to them not knowing what was going on, but really enjoying the spirit of the music and trying to capture that. I suppose that was my first influence, and then I got into Miles Davis. And then when I went to the Guildhall School of Music, I was introduced to British jazz. Kenny Wheeler, and John Taylor, people like that. I’ve gotten a wide variety of listening experiences, which is great.
I found this CD by Rabih Abou Khalil. And only found it because it featured Kenny Wheeler who is one of my favorite trumpet players of all time. That sparked the inspiration behind my fusion. And then I got into electronics and I discovered a wonderful trumpet player called John Hassell, who sadly passed away a few days ago. He was very unique in using electronics with the trumpet. I don't know if you can describe it as jazz, but I suppose jazz influences in it.
Some would say that jazz is a dying art. Why do you want to keep it alive? And how do you keep it alive?
I think that with a lot of jazz education, people have stuck to certain periods in history. It's become very studied. So, don't think that helps with keeping jazz alive. What I'm interested in is the actual meaning of jazz. Jazz has always been about expressing yourself, your beliefs, your feelings. It's been political music, protest music, it's come from struggle and some of it's been really revolutionary. It's always been quite a hybrid type of music and I love how it's developed.
Jazz was a very big influence to early hip hop; Tribe Called Quest, they'd use different samples from classic records and modernise them. I think that played into more instrumental jazz. Jazz is still evolving. And so I don't think jazz is a dying art form, but I think it can seem that way when certain styles are studied and frequently played.
We're getting so many wonderful new artists, female artists, who are blending the jazz of the old and the new. How does being a woman in jazz make you feel? Does your femininity become incorporated into your music?
As a young student, I didn't really think anything of my gender. It was only until I reached my teens, I noticed that all my female friends had dropped out of the youth bands. And I didn't understand why that was. Then I realised that I never really saw any professional female jazz musicians except singers. And that made me question myself, it made me think, Okay, maybe women aren't good enough, intelligent enough to become professional jazz musicians.
I was talking to a woman who's writing a book about a female saxophone player who goes to New Orleans to learn about jazz; it comes from her own history. She used to play the saxophone and she'd be made fun of for looking ugly when playing. We're bombarded with images and the pressure of having to look beautiful.
‘The Suffragettes’, by Sophie Bass, 2020.
There's also factors in how we're brought up. What I've seen growing up is that girls are supposed to be good and quiet, whereas boys are encouraged to be naughty, and it's normal, people say; boys will be boys. Jazz is an expressive genre, you improvise and when you're improvising, even as an accomplished musician, there's a big likelihood that you're going to make mistakes. Being a girl who's scared of ridicule, a lot of girls will either shy away or give up the music, whereas boys are encouraged to be naughty and reckless and so they excel.
Like food and art, music is a universal language. You've already spoken about how music can bridge a gap between cultures, but what do you think it is about music that's similar to food and to art that bridges that gap?
You don't have to understand the lyrics and if there aren't any lyrics, it's something we all feel; it's very human to feel a beat and dance to it. The feeling of people being together is very powerful, witnessing the same thing. It's been cancelled, really annoyingly, but the festival WOMAD, is such a great festival because they're acts from all over the world. And that's a really great way of bringing cultures together.
Who are you currently listening to?
Because of John Hassel recently passing, I've been looking at his catalogue. My favourite album is Last Night The Moon Came. It's one of those albums where you have to sit down and listen, especially with headphones, and you notice something different each. It's very quietly complicated.
I've been listening to some Ethiopian jazz recently such as Muluatau Astatke. It's quite retro. I love how jazz has evolved in different countries, different continents. There's quite a big jazz scene in Ethiopia and it’s very interesting.
Two people I really love, who're both London based, are Alcyona Mick, a piano player, and Tori Freestone, a saxophone player. Their group’s called Criss Cross and they also feature a singer called Brigitte Beraha. She is Turkish and Welsh and her accent is really beautiful when she sings.
Courtesy of Women in Jazz.
Finally, what's next for you?
I have a very, very special gig coming up at the London Jazz Festival. I'm playing with a BBC Concert Orchestra, which is a dream come true for me. It's going to be like full-fat versions of my music, the strings and everything. It's on the 21st of November.
Listen to Polyhymnia here.