‘I wasn’t that thought’ album reflection | Ahron Frankel
I wasn’t that thought is the newest record from the Triangle’s premier Palestinian art-rock band, DUNUMS. DUNUMS is a multimedia project founded in 2009 by Sijal Nasralla, which he began after visiting his family in Palestine. Throughout the years, Nasralla has experimented with many collaborators and genres alike. Self-described as “arty, noisey, post-rock, bedroom fake-jazz,” DUNUMS powerfully conveys unfiltered feelings of love, grief, joy and rage. 15 years later, I wasn’t that thought becomes the epitome of this incredibly unique project. The album is a distinctive blend of sounds, a collection of moments and memories, and most importantly, is written from the perspective of Tasneem, the daughter of Nasralla. As the world seems to be getting increasingly darker and scarier, this record is a sobering reminder that love triumphs all else, and that it’s ok to feel big feelings. I spoke with Nasralla on the phone to talk about the album and all of the emotions surrounding it.
It’s been a couple of weeks since the album came out. What have things been like since release? What kind of feedback have you been receiving?
I feel like I haven't had a whole lot of time to really reflect on it, but I get little messages here and there. I just got a message today from someone who lives in Montreal, who's an Arab parent to a new kid, who told me that they love the record and sing ‘habibi bear’, the closing track which is a lullaby that we wrote for Tasneem, to their kid, and their friends are singing it to their kids. That for me is like a major W, you know? Those little anecdotes of people who are enjoying the record. Even with people living full lives and living in a really hard time, to have people report back to me that they're enjoying and feeling the record in a deep way and feeling the sweetness and brightness and darkness of it, that for me is a major win.
Creation of this record began like 4 years ago, right? What did the making of this record look like up until release? What was the creative process like?
I worked with a Muslim civil rights organization, which was a huge amount of work at the time, with the 2020 election buildup and all this intense shit happening in the world that we were responding to, and I was really burning out. But I had parental leave, and almost the instant my partner at the time started going into labor, I closed my computer, I picked up my guitar, and I wrote ‘butt parade’ in like five minutes. It just happened. I was holding a lot of creative energy and a lot of despair about the work and the world, and then the songs came really quick. ‘butt parade,’ ‘I wasn't that thought, ‘honeycomb art on a billion twins ‘holding the cake up to the sky,’ ‘usa ain’t shit’ happened really quickly. And then it became just arranging. And then I got really excited about, like, lyrics and arranging. My life was pretty full because I was a new parent. I was writing in the early mornings, letting my co-parent sleep. I would go downstairs with Tasneem and just play guitar while she rested on her little beanbags and floor pillows, and we hung out as I played. I started recording in, like, late 2022. I did a lot of tracking in my house, I tracked drums at Mangum Street Grocery, which is a little studio in Durham. It was just a really, really sweet, long project that’s evolved. As Tasneem grew, [we got songs] like “Nemo's Story”, where she started telling stories, or talking about stuff in Palestine on the opening track, ‘binti’. She got more and more present in the process as she got older. So even though a lot of the songs were written almost instantly when she was born, as the album started piecing itself together, she just had more and more involvement.
I feel like one of the most important aspects of DUNUMS is the band aspect. You’ve had a rotating lineup over the years, but in the live performances, and especially this record, the band synergy is so apparent. For such a personal record, what was it like involving others in the creative process?
Everyone on the record are deep, deep, close people. For live performances, we weren't playing shows until spring of 2023. I had no intention to play shows, actually, while I was recording. It wasn't until I got lunch with Taylor [Holenbeck], who’s the guitar player, and he was like, “Hey, let's play your music.” I was like, okay, here's some stuff I'm working on. I showed him the demos, and he was like “let's fucking play it”. The person who plays bass on most of the record, Sinclair Palmer, who I played with in The Muslims, during the pandemic was one of our few friends who helped us do childcare, so they're like one of Tasneem's first friends. David [Barrett] who plays drums and recorded the record, he's been recording music with me for like 15 years. So the criteria was like, “I'm gonna bring in all these talented people who I love, and who love me, and make it.” Now, the band is in its most ideal form. It's like, somehow I have all these amazing artists who I really have really close relationships with and I get to make music with. It's really the best that it's ever been in terms of collaboration. This is kind of more like a manifestation of my community at this point. It feels mandatory for me to be connected, especially with the kind of music that we make. It'd be hard to not be close in some way.
DUNUMS is such a unique blend of genres and styles. How do you mix and take influences from so many things and put it out in such a cohesive manner? And what inspires you to do that?
The easiest way to answer is that I really don't know. I'm really an improviser at my core. And then I'll just find what I've learned through improvising. There’s so many little miracle song moments that come up when I'm twiddling, and I just learn to take the snapshots and turn them into something coherent. Sometimes if I’m listening to, say, a Big Thief record, I feel like I twiddle in a way that is reminiscent of that and I'll turn it into a coherent singer-songwriter thing. But I've never really played a fucking E minor chord in my life, you know? I love progressive rock and free music. I feel like that comes out on side b of the record. I do emotional stuff, so I feel like I just follow where my emotions are and then my hands kind of dance in that direction and then I find ways to bring lyrical content to it. I kind of try to stay outta my own way a little bit.
Is there any particular song on the record that stands out to you amongst the rest, or anything you feel would be like the best representative of the record?
No, they're all like tattoos. They all have particular timestamps and moments that they mark. They all belong there in a way, and they're all kind of reflections on a moment of love or grief, or both, on the flip side of the love-grief coin. I keep listening to side A of the record - they all have a character to them that I can't even quite describe, but I know they're maybe more of the radio bangers in a way. But they have this quality of wanting to portray a message that feels coherent from a singer-songwriter perspective. But side b is a little more vibrant and dynamic compositionally. They all fit to me. I would say that the one song that is the most emblematic, that started this whole journey, is ‘butt parade’. That's the one that was like “wow, this song happened so quick, and it's so beautiful, and I am gonna follow this thread of inspiration all the way through.” That's what pulled me through the whole record.
What do you want people to take away from this record?
I want people to listen to it. This is the first time in my experience as a solo artist making music that has a wider appeal, relatively, you know? “where’s my eidi?” was really written for folks in the Palestinian diaspora. It's very much full of inside jokes and reference points being Palestinian and in the U.S. that’s very particular, and the audience for that is pretty small. The next record, “it's in your ribs”, is sometimes a little too harsh or jarring for folks. For this one, I think about what I've done in my own personal exploration of life. I've really grown my relationship with grief and feeling, and not being afraid of hard sensations, and I think that comes out in the music. I think I have a discreet, loud agenda that everyone will and should feel more in this really difficult world, and if we all do that, then we might be better as a fucked up society. That’s kind of where my heart is. I’m just one person in a really hard time, and I'm doing something with my feelings. I hope it helps inspire people to do something with theirs, you know? Whether it's like organizing or just fucking crying, or making art themselves, or telling a story that they haven't told, you know? Something, anything.
If you could go back to your younger self when you first started making music, what would you say to him? What do you think he'd be most surprised by?
Oh my God. Whoa. That's so deep. Uh, what would I say to him? I really trust his process. I'd probably be like, “I'm so proud of you for exploring this and really trust where this is going to go and lead you in a deep personal and spiritual way if you keep at it.” I think the younger version of myself was playing tons of music, mostly alone in my room. That really got me through some hard times, and I just kept at it. It became the way that I coped with hard things in my young life. And then it just has stuck with me in a way that I enjoy so much, but also need it until I move through the world. I'm just really grateful for that wisdom at a young age.
What about DUNUMS in particular has been different than some of the other stuff you've played in or made?
I've always played drums or bass in other bands, and I've played a lot of different kinds of bands. I've played in pop bands, indie rock bands, and a punk band. What’s different about DUNUMS is it's really just me. I get to really steer the ship in a way that represents me. On all levels, I get to have the arrangements that I want, and I get to represent myself in the way that I want to represent myself, and be the gooey, gooey, squishy, softy, weird person that I am, and the funny person that I am, and I really enjoy that. I love listening to my music. Not in an egotistical way, I'm making music that I want to hear.
There’s a lot of terrible stuff happening all the time, especially right now. I think one of the hardest things to do is turn all this grief into love. I wanted to know how you stay hopeful during times like this.
I'll just say this: I was raised as a Sunni Muslim, and I've found ways to connect that to deeper parts of my life and apply it to the way I view oppression and power and liberation in my world. There’s this expression that's common around Muslims in the world that's basically like: “Hasbi Allah wa ni’mal Wakeel”, which means “I put my faith in something greater, and I know that thing is just.” That's kind of my translation of it. I don't think everyone translates that way, but that's how I translate it. I just have a sense within the realm of being Palestinian and my family, and those in Palestine. They're strong beyond anything I could ever possibly imagine for myself. Their resilience and steadfastness and strength is completely beyond the privilege that I've got to experience, being safe and growing up in North Carolina. I think I owe it to them to have a formidable spirituality and a formidable sense of what is good and worth fighting for in this world, and what evilness will I not affirm in my actions or beliefs. I really see it as an act of solidarity to stay hopeful, especially for those of us who live and sleep safely. I really believe that to my core. So, I'm not gonna say, like, “find God”, but in some way, in your own way, recognize that these powers are not the only powers in this world. It’s very Gandalf to Frodo. It's like, I can't change the fact that evil exists, but you have to remember that there are other forces in this world beyond the will of evil, you know?
What’s next for DUNUMS?
We're gonna go on tour next year! We’re gonna bring the show on the road. I'm gonna make a record with a Palestinian friend of mine named Kareem Samara, who lives in the UK, who's an amazing oud player. We’ve been hashing out compositional things virtually, long distance, and I'm excited to connect with him and put together something beautiful and timely for people.
You can listen to “I wasn’t that thought” or support DUNUMS at the links below
Photos courtesy of DUNUMS