B-2 Bombers and Benedictine Monks
FATIMA AL QADIRI
Fade to Mind, 2012
"Oil Well," "Desert Strike," "Ghost Raid," "War Games" (So, NOT "Hydra")
DOOM, Dark Forces, Enigma, carbon fiber, Tangerine Dream, Vangelis, black gold
- Ghost Raid
- Oil Well
- War Games
- Desert Strike
In her sophomore realization of “Gregorian trance,” Fatima Al Qadiri has proven, for the second time, that Genre Specific Xperience was one of the best albums of 2011. Does Desert Strike the mark this year? Bringing the potential End of Days with it, 2012 seems to suggest, no. This is the True Life of Fatima’s more conceptual, but sadly, not musical, masterpiece; Desert Strike.
Channeling the lifted title of the Sega game, Desert Strike: Return to the Gulf, Fatima exposes the reflexive nature of video games while immersing the listener in what can only be described as a true (genre specific) experience. Its relevance is as extraordinary as the artistic direction itself, evoking the hollow nature of drone warfare (crystallizing in the current climate) through the richness of Fatima’s signature style. Unfortunately, it’s not quite as opulent as GSX. I want it to be, but it’s just, not.
Desert Strike, though an expansion of GSX’s “Vatican Vibes,” lacks the variance of GSX. Perhaps in being so utterly blown away by her first release and Ayshay mixes I failed to recognize this album as a lesser triumph, but one, nonetheless, placed within a style she’s pioneered: In the Fade to Mind world of musicians, Fatima stands out as a composer. While Nguzunguzu (her most audibly noted contemporary influence) certainly understands the art of noise, so to speak, Fatima understands the art of narrative. Desert Strike, like Gatekeeper’s EXO, might just be too #concept for most. Both albums are, however, necessary stages in these artist’s (for-real for-real) evolution
Don’t forget she’s wildly talented (artwork and Global .WAV contributions considered) but don’t expect to be as hyped for your Web 2.0 themed party as you were when you first cued GSX. In closing, who are you, Fatima Al Quadiri? Why don’t I know you?