«(Beirut) Its beauty, darkness, loudness, grief, war, loss»
April 28, 2025
An interview with Snakeskin touching upon Motown-claps, Ghassan Kanafani, cyclical beats and linguistic identity crises.
Text: Eli Tenga
Snakeskin, a Beirut-based duo, tonight at Kafé Hærverk
Sometimes you get artists who by virtue and amalgamation of their roots and culture, sit on the very pulse of the world: geographically and contemporary: its discourse and its verve. Lebanon, and especially its capital Beirut, is and for long has been a nexus of culture, religion, nations and peoples. Now (and I reckon most people reading would understand why without explicit mention), maybe not more than ever, but in high degree right about now - the forces that be and the human will for emancipation, clash and engulf the city in a period of explicit intensity.
This is not the only background, but an important one for the duo Snakeskin. Meaning, that one does not have to explicitly refer to something or sound like the classical idea of a place - to be what most represents it. The sound of Beirut both could and could not be the sound of anywhere. The music Snakeskin make is implicitly so much of its time and place, yet it is still, as it always were - humans (in this instant a duo) making sounds about whatever from whatever place within. It is not more complicated and it is much more complicated than that at the same time.
Thus, the editorial comment here would be: Listen to them as you listen to anyone and as they sound, but do really listen. See them as you see anything and as they look, but do truly see. Feel them intently! Perhaps through that (and the reading of the interview underneath of course) you can be given a little peer through the door of their sonic portal: perhaps there you can feel the velvet brush of one of the most vivacious cities - there ever was and ever will be.
We had a chat with Snakeskin in preview of tonight’s concert:
Hello! How are you guys and where in the world are you?
- Julia: We just landed in Malmo this morning from Beirut, for a week-long residency as part of the Intonal Festival. We’re preparing a performance with Felisha Ledesma for Sunday night.
You make music which, at least for me, is not synonymous with Beirut from the outset. Can you talk a bit about how you encountered each other? Was it through a specific scene in the city?
- Julia: I met Fadi around 12 years ago, when my band Postcards and I came to his studio, Tunefork Studios, to record our first ever song. Tunefork is not just a studio, it’s kind of at the center of the alternative/experimental scene in Beirut, so yes you could say we met through that scene. Since then, we’ve developed a very close working relationship and friendship - he’s produced all 5 of Postcards’ albums, and I’ve become a partner in Tunefork Studios. But we only started making music together in late 2020, writing and recording our debut album, which would come out in October 2022.
Is there any specific meaning or story to the name Snakeskin?
- Julia: Initially we were just going by our names. Our first album was called “Snakeskin,” after one of its tracks of the same name. The lyrics of that song compare the constant death/renewal of life in Lebanon to a snake shedding skin - hence the name. And we liked it as a band name because it also applies to us as artists in this project, where we’re both doing things outside our comfort zone musically - shedding our old “skin” and trying something new.
As for the production - I first need to address your liking for marching snares (which excite me!) in your song «All the Birds» or for example the intro for «Bodies». The blend of synths in the melodic foreground, ethereal vocals and stomping percussion intrigues me - what are the thoughts/inspiration behind this signature?
- Fadi: We like the feeling of circular beats, where you don’t feel the beginning and the ending of a cycle, as a way to also break from this perception of linearity of life. It also borrows from classical oriental music where the music is mostly melodic lines over circular rhythms. Where there is no “grid” and it’s mostly based on intuition and feeling.
The multi-layered clapping in «Homecoming» and its panning in stereo and layering into the soundscape was something that caught my attention. Can you expand a little on your thoughts on layering textures when mixing your tracks?
- Fadi: For “Homecoming” I wanted to create a retro futuristic song, especially that Julia’s lyrics refer to a late 1960s book by Ghassan Kanafani called “Returning to Haifa,” mixed with modern day dreams of Palestine. So I sampled old Motown claps where the panning used to be extreme. I often mix tape recordings (mostly from stuff we recorded on tape but sometimes samples) or processed field recording to give this uncanny feeling of old/new dirty/clean in the music.
You balance between stark soundscapes, expressive textures, ponderous rhythms and more low-down consistent grooves. Is this variety something you consciously want to have within your releases or is it within your nature that this sonic ambivalence appears?
- We lived most of our lives in Beirut and this is one of our main source of inspiration. Its beauty, darkness, loudness, grief, war, loss are what shaped us. So to answer briefly, yes it is in our nature.
How does your process look, in terms of crafting tracks? Does the text come first, melody or beat?
- Julia: It really depends on the track. Some songs we wrote together, improvising and trying stuff in the studio live. Then we reach something we like, and I take it home to write words for it. Sometimes, Fadi will have worked on an almost finished track which he brings to me, and I either write lyrics for it or I already have some text I feel works with it. In any case, it’s a very smooth and quick process, we’re very much in sync musically.
Beirut is known a lot for its french-speaking inhabitants. Was it a conscious choice to sing in English or how did it come to be?
- Julia: There’s a bit of an identity crisis linguistically in Lebanon, because although we all speak the Lebanese dialect, in school you learn everything in either French or English, and only Arabic and a handful of other courses in formal, written Arabic. So I just instinctively write and think in English, even though I speak in Arabic.
Has Lebanese culture, especially music, directly impacted your sound? If so, in which way?
- Julia: I think since we are Lebanese, regardless of the genre or language we sing in, it will feel Lebanese. I don’t have to include a traditionally oriental instrument for the music to be recognized as Lebanese. Artists will always sound like the place they come from, whether consciously or unconsciously, in an obvious way or a more subtle one. Like Fadi said, the emotions and the intensity of the music are a direct reflection of the city, and there are aspects to the music, like the rhythms and drones for example, that reflect the more classical aspect of our culture.
Three words on what people can expect from the upcoming concert?
Nostalgia, noise, tears!
Doors open: 19.00 Concert : 20.00 Age: 20 Tickets: 225,-