No Country for Diasporic Men album
I was forced to learn Mozart and Chopin from the age of three;
classic post-colonial values,
packaged and assembled.
I followed the rules for nearly three and a half decades. Looked outward, tried living up to impossible expectations, someone else’s constructs.
I stopped. Turned around. Looked inward, into my dreams.
I asked. I waited. I listened.
Here is 35 years of accumulated restrictions and their outpouring.
The name of the composition is in reference to the thesis of the same title, by Zehra Yousofi, who inspired me greatly.
This album is deicated to my father.
go to sleep
Why are you still here?
What are you thinking about all day?
Ah, where are you from?
Where to go?
Ah, whose child are you?
No one can hear
Don’t be afraid
There is tomorrow
There is tomorrow.