Album Review: وائل كفوري - شهر (1997)
Alright, let’s talk about شهر (Shahr), the 1997 gem from وائل كفوري (Wael Kfoury). If you’re into heartfelt Arabic music with a mix of folk vibes and pop sensibilities, this one’s for you. Released under Music Box International, it’s got all the feels—thanks to سمير صفير’s melodies, نزار فرنسيس’ poetic lyrics, and Wael’s golden voice. Oh, and shoutout to جورج يوسف for the album design and جوني حداد for snapping those timeless photos.
Now, this album isn’t just another collection of songs; it’s like flipping through an old photo album filled with emotions. There are six tracks here, but I’ll focus on two that really stuck with me because, honestly, they’re unforgettable.
First up is رسالة إلى أمى (Risala Ila Oummi). Man, this one hits hard. It’s basically Wael pouring his heart out in a letter to his mom, and it’s impossible not to feel something while listening. The melody is simple yet powerful, letting Wael’s vocals take center stage. Every word feels genuine, like he’s sitting right there telling you his story. You don’t even need to understand every line to get the emotion—it’s universal. I remember playing this late at night once, and suddenly my mom walked in asking why I looked so sad. That’s how deep this track goes.
Then there’s ١٢ شهر (Tnaashar Chaher). This one’s more upbeat but still carries that emotional undertone Kfoury does so well. It’s kinda bittersweet, talking about love and time passing by. What makes it memorable is how smooth the composition flows—you can literally vibe to it no matter what mood you’re in. Plus, the title itself (“12 Months”) gives off this reflective vibe, like looking back on a year full of highs and lows.
The rest of the tracks? Equally solid. Songs like رايح عالجيش (Raeh A’l Jaych) bring some patriotism into the mix, while عيد العشاق (Eid El Oucha’) adds a romantic touch perfect for slow dancing or staring out a rainy window. Honestly, each song has its own charm, but those two stood out to me because they felt personal, almost like Wael was singing directly to me.
Reflecting on شهر, it’s wild to think this album came out over 25 years ago. Back then, Middle Eastern pop was evolving fast, blending traditional sounds with modern beats—and Wael nailed it. But what strikes me most is how human these songs feel. They aren’t flashy or trying too hard; they’re just real. And honestly, we could use more of that today.
Fun fact: Did you know Wael started as a dentist before becoming a singer? Imagine getting your cavity filled and then realizing the guy holding the drill also made you cry over a breakup song later. Wild, right?
So yeah, if you haven’t heard شهر yet, give it a spin. It’s not just music—it’s a journey through love, family, and life itself. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
