My new album Midnight in Fez is out now.

Influenced by my experiences in North and West Africa, Midnight in Fez presents new and recently unearthed works made between 2001-2026, connected by their exploration of certain nomadic sounds and terrains that traverse between styles, cultures and borders.

These are “untimely” works, always seemingly at the edge of contemporary. In my mobile studios over the years, I have often tried to explore kinds of possible sonic worlds that could suggest perhaps a more dynamic, colourful and multicultural globality than what our political and economic designs have chosen to express.

The album features contributions from Henni Winberg (violin), Nazim Bakour (oud), Omar Harb (bass guitar), Lucia Munenge (voice), and Megumi Matsubara and Nisrine Mbarki (field recordings). It has been recorded in Fez, Marrakesh, London, Helsinki, Ghent and Paris. The mastering is by Gregor Zemljic (Earresistible Mastering).

The track Midnight in Fez was originally premiered as a spoken word and soundscape composition for the Carroussa Sonore sound installation of artist Younes Baba Ali (Morocco), with a text written and performed by artist Wanja Kimani (traces of her voice now form the ambient tapestry of the track). It was presented at Shubbak, London’s largest biennial festival of contemporary Arab culture, in 2015.

It was indeed a midnight in Fez in 2014, when I had to save a new track I’d been working on all evening with a file name. “‘Midnight in Fez’, that’ll do.” The track was a rough sketch of a generative, algorithmic granular treatment of a Moroccan string instrument (kamenjah and rebab) composition that a friend of mine had made in Marrakesh. Outside the walls of my beautiful yet slightly dilapidated riad in the heart of the medina the night had already set in: a neighbour’s nighttime television, radio broadcasts (in Arabic); people on terraces, alleys, open windows and doors; other lifeforms (cicadas, dogs, night birds, cats, donkeys, goats); hypnotic, mesmerising Gnawa music from the communal nights of celebrations – everything converging, communicating, echoing and permeating through undulating, pulsating silence. I climbed onto my rooftop, drawn further into the world. The moon traversed the sky, stars continued to appear and rotate from one horizon to another. I kept sensing scents and stenches from the medina below, the wind from the desert, while being immersed in listening to this new, unfamiliar nocturnal world.