Teenagers dance on TikTok for fleeting fame, and the world reels through two years of a global pandemic. While wars rage and rivers dry up, people search for meaning in a chaotic world. For the anonymous, experimental duo of Mamaleek, the current focus is on the American diner and its own particular mythologies on their record Diner Coffee, released on September 30 via The Flenser.
Though their music has sometimes been described as black metal, this doesn’t do justice to an eclectic sound that can encompass anything from jazz, to noise, to sludge metal, to avantgarde, to trip hop.
Since starting their recording career in 2008, Mamaleek has given only a handful of interviews, and only ever via email. Very little is known about the two members—thir being brothers is one of the limited pieces of information—and they are adept at sidestepping any question perceived as fishing for personal information. All the same, the duo still have plenty to say when it comes to the peculiar musical world and mythos they are constructing around themselves.
Your last album, Come and See, came out just as COVID was starting to have an impact around the world. To what degree did the pandemic inform Diner Coffee and in what way do you view the American diner as a sanctuary from such calamity?
Looking back, in light of what came to pass immediately following the release of Come and See, it seems to be a grim forecast of the domestic hardships and isolation everyone faced during lockdown, and especially for those whose living conditions were already dire. As with Come and See, Diner Coffee deals with our present day in which we are all trying to reconcile with an unknown and unclear future by digging into the past to remember when and where we felt peace and comfort. The American diner can be thought of as a relic of this recent past that’s both a momentary sanctuary and a waystation toward our final destination.
On the subject of coffee, who has the better—San Francisco or Beirut?
Either. Anywhere. That’s the whole point of the record; to appreciate it whenever and wherever you have the opportunity. As Lynch (supposedly) said, bad coffee is better than no coffee at all. So sip it if you got it. And if someone offers, never turn it down.
What new sonic dimensions did the additional musicians bring to the Mamaleek sound on Diner Coffee and how strictly coordinated were their contributions?
Hard to tell, but naturally, each is drawing on their own reservoir of influences and playing experience. There seems to be a telekinetic language communicated between the rhythm section that the rest don’t speak as fluently. Best not to interrupt them. Our keys/sax/everything-but-the-kitchen-sink player marches to the beat of his own drum. Best to get out of the way. Each time a new tune emerges, the rest of us learn a new way to skin a cat.
On the recording and production side, were there any new techniques or approaches you utilized on the new record?
There are two approaches on the record, distinguished by their order. The first’s foundation was built from fragments of various sampled and pre-recorded sounds, then overlaid with live improvisation. The second preceded in reverse with (mostly) pre-arranged and/or improvised songs played live. To our pleasant surprise, both elements dovetailed nicely, without much manipulation. However, the main issue we encountered while recording concerned time and the ability to play over the difficult and mostly unknown tempo/meter of sampled parts. Kudos to Jack for the engineering voodoo that he conjured at the right time.
Have there been any recent influences that have shaped the music you’re making now in contrast to your earlier records?
Musical influences are rarely, if ever, explicitly discussed as a group. One song on Diner Coffee reflects on our real-life acquaintance with an unsavory man named Johnny who has at times summoned our band’s members for arcane purposes. Although his motives are unclear, his guitar playing is the shame of the animal kingdom. He is a negative musical influence that haunts our heads, struck by the effect of his gnarly fingers’ crude application to a Strat’s fretboard. On the subject, we have begrudgingly come to accept that the shop where we practice is haunted. Coming to terms with this has been difficult, especially for those of us reluctant to believe in an unseen world and its residents. This poltergeist’s noises, and perhaps attempts at communication, have interrupted practices and caused some fear and apprehension. It’s unknown whether or how much of these feelings are baked into the tunes on the record.
What first inspired you to create Mamaleek?
It began and continues as a compulsion, now a collective one, shared between friends that have known each other since the mid-90s. If that isn’t inspiring, what is?
If I understand well, the name Mamaleek has an Arabic origin. To what extent have Arabic cultural influences shaped your music?
We cannot say, but perhaps it manifests in the music, alongside a tangle of other cultural influences too entwined to isolate.
Like all Arabic words, Mamaleek break down into a three-consonant root (م–ل–ك) from which derive the words, “monarch, owner, owned, property, realm, heavenly, angel, mastery,” among others. There is a core meaning from which springs the derivations and which must be interpreted.
Your music defies genre classification. Do you have any self-imposed limits of what you wouldn’t do as Mamaleek? For instance, if it felt appropriate to incorporate a polka element into a track, would you?
The music always leads the way, and we follow. We wouldn’t rule out polka ex ante, but all styles/techniques depend on how they’re being channelled and what story they’re telling.
If Roy Andersson commissioned you to provide the soundtrack to a new movie and asked you to choose a work of fiction to be the basis of that movie, what would you choose?
Roy Anderson earnestly attempting a Christian apologetic work like the Left Behind series would be fantastic… but more appropriate for the last record. For this one, we’d prefer a two-part: Mike Leigh doing Frank Norris’ McTeague, followed by Adam Curtis adapting Jorge Luis Borges’ “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius.” Any takers?
Photo courtesy of anonymous
