Album Review: Nûba Al Ramal by Orchestre Et Chorale De La Radio Tunisienne
Alright, let’s talk about Nûba Al Ramal. Released way back in 1992 (yeah, the same year grunge was blowing up), this album is a deep dive into Andalusian classical music. If you’re into folk and world sounds with that rich, intricate vibe, this one’s for you. It’s like stepping into another time—kinda feels like wandering through an old medina but with violins instead of spices.
The record comes out of France via Inedit, Maison Des Cultures Du Monde—a label known for shining light on underappreciated musical traditions. Big props to Mohamed Triki, who composed this whole thing, and Kaddour Srarfi on violin, whose playing just hits different. Oh, and shoutout to Khemaïs Tarnane on lute—he’s got some serious soul in his fingers.
Now, onto the tracks. I gotta say, “الاستفتاح والمصقر” (Istiftâh & Msaddar) really stuck with me. The opening grabs your attention right away—it’s slow, deliberate, almost ceremonial. You can picture people gathering around centuries ago, listening to something exactly like this. The blend of strings and vocals creates this hypnotic rhythm that pulls you in. Honestly? It made me wanna put my phone down and just sit still for once. Not something most albums can pull off these days.
Then there’s “البراويل” (Barawîl). This track has more energy, a bit livelier, but it still carries that weighty elegance Andalusian music is famous for. There’s a moment where the choir kicks in, and dang—it gives you goosebumps. Like, how do they make voices sound so... golden? It’s hard not to replay that part over and over again.
What makes this album special isn’t just the technical skill (which is insane) or even the history behind it (super cool). It’s how it makes you feel connected to something bigger than yourself. Listening to it feels like eavesdropping on a conversation between generations. Weirdly enough, it reminds me of those random moments when you find an old family photo and realize how much you look like your great-grandparents. Yeah, it’s kinda like that.
So yeah, if you’re tired of playlists full of forgettable pop tunes and need something real, give Nûba Al Ramal a spin. Just don’t blame me if you start daydreaming about deserts and poetry readings afterward. Oh, and fun fact: apparently Judith Crews translated the liner notes. Wonder what she thought while working on this? Bet she didn’t expect her words to end up in some random dude’s review decades later. Life’s funny like that.
