Jim Jarmusch is a man of many talents, like discovering the music you
always wanted to listen to, but never knew where to look for it. On this
particular occasion you’d have to go to Beirut via Paris (or Paris via Beirut,
depends on how you look at it), just like Jarmusch’s eternally journeying
vampires move around the world. There is something wonderfully befitting his
timeless heroes in Yasmine Hamdan’s music: it seems, at the same time,
extremely ancient and very modern, extremely calm and very unsettling. The ingredients are basic: her voice, some
guitars, a sprinkling of traditional instruments here and there, but the result
is as arresting as the source is simple, it doesn’t feel as much as music being
made, but music that simply is, an existential element contained within itself.
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