DJ Haram’s debut album Beside Myself is testament to the survival of the spirit as an artist reckoning with the present global hellscape. A reference for rage/grief and also the alienation of feeling out of step with the world, the album title functions as a double entendre. With a decade spanning career, the “multidisciplinary propagandist” insists on evolving in times of war and weaponized entertainment, challenging herself and her peers, she asks – “how can this be, how can we live with ourselves, how can we find each other and the truth, how can we get free?” The answer is never so explicit but the out-loud musing places her firmly “beside herself”, travelling a “lonely road”, building her space, sharpening her technical production and lyricism to new focus and intention.
On Beside Myself she is joined by a swarm of collaborators, finding her ‘lonely road’ full of peers, collectively navigating pain and purpose, and in occasional moments of joyful respite, mocking the strife. Haram describes herself as a “god fearing atheist” who makes “anti-format audio propaganda/anti-lifestyle immersive sonics”. Her music attests to this, as she brings in friends and collaborators some of whom she’s previously produced with, from MC’s Armand Hammer (billy woods + ELUCID), Bbymutha, SHA RAY, her 700 Bliss partner Moor Mother, Dakn, through to co-producers like Underground rap god August Fanon, Egyptian producer El Kontessa, Jersey Club producer Kay Drizz, musicians like trumpeter Aquiles Navarro, and guitarist Abdul Hakim Bilal.
It’s immediately identifiable as her work, but simultaneously unclassifiable; a syncretic ensemble built on middle eastern music, that finds equal space in its tormented live production for Jersey Club, punk, noise, electro-acoustic instrumentation and sampling, tambourines, shakers, darbuka drums and violin, matched with trancelike rave synths, walls of 808’s and lurking, rumbling bass. Often at the centre is her own performance of unflinching, heartbroken poetic verse, in conversation with inspiring thinkers like Audre Lorde or Nawal El Saadawi (who’s words are featured on the album) and Kim Gordon in context, examining the material and the abstract in equal measure.
