There’s something in the way Mahmoud Ahmed sings that makes his voice such an irresistible force. There’s no denying or ignoring it. You just have to succumb.
Ahmed has an uncommon knack for making the moment last with each note. With his impeccable phrasing he seizes every opportunity within his song to shine. The intensity of his delivery stirs the soul and sets off all kinds of chain reactions. The most logical thing to do is dance but laughing or crying are options too.
When Mahmoud sings, we listen, we move and are moved. His tone demands a response. In those magical moments of fractured air when his pitch trembles, time is suspended. The swirling high notes linger like they want to stay forever and you wish they would. As he moves onto the next note the last one leaves an indelible trace.
We don’t need to be well versed in Amharic to understand. Nothing is lost in translation. Every ounce of sorrow and drop of blood, sweat or tears is palpable.
The passion he invests in his live performance is a sight to behold. I was once lucky enough to bear witness and I’m still reeling. Ethiopians call it “eskeusta”. It’s a kind if upper-body dance that begins at one’s shoulders and shudders all the way down the spine to the legs and feet. Ecstasy is our word for it.
The glorious music of Mahmoud Ahmed registers 10 on the Richter Scale when it comes to the source of such dancefloor tremors. The freewheeling funky rhythms of the Ibex Band are the perfect foil for the sinewy lines he strings together. The sophisticated oriental horns are a dazzling sideshow to the impossibly groovy main event. A tangible warmth flows in waves.
This is pure soul music suffused with incandescent light. Mahmoud Ahmed never fails to bring the heat.
