Let's begin this week's musical parade with a powerful cast recording of a musical about the pressure of protests against an oppressive government. That brings us to the Middle East for We Live in Cairo. From Egypt, we head to France for singer Sacha's Paris After Dark. After Paris comes Harris: poetry and song with vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Allan Harris finding safe harbor in Ann Arbor for a live gig recorded there.

WE LIVE IN CAIRO
2024 OFF-BROADWAY CAST
Center Stage Records
Digital

The time: 2011. The place: Cairo, the capital of Egypt. The characters: six student activists involved in protests against the presidential regime and the aftermath. The musical: We Live in Cairo. The moods: mostly defiant, determined, occasionally dejected.

As you might expect, the ire and fire associated with political protests are present. So, we hear angry declamations, frustrations, and repeated phrases in the complaints, cries, and watchcries, occasionally cut off by the sound of a siren. Sparks fly, hostility simmers, and a sense of righteousness reigns, while the triumphant sense of winning–when pressured, President Mubarak steps down after the upheaval–is muted by the selection of his non-ideal replacement. There is some respite from the rancor via some satire and songs that turn to the non-political concerns of the protestors (romance and creative pursuits). Those musical theatre fans preferring feel-good cheer, pep, and pizzazz may find the 25-track cast album more of a slog through rants and anguished laments. They may not catch the spirit, especially if they have no special knowledge of the history or the show itself. (There's no digital booklet with a plot synopsis or lyrics, but attentive/repeat playing of the recording can help clue in–and pull in–the initially confused listener.)

The cast (all Arab Americans) is impressive. The impactful, often gutsy score was written by Daniel and Patrick Lazour. The characters of young demonstrators created by these two songwriting brothers include two songwriting brothers, Amir and Hany, allowing for diegetic numbers to be included ("Dreaming Words" is heard as a work-in-progress and a completed version). The other four young people in the story are: their cousin Karim, a graffiti artist; Hassan, his eventual protegee; Layla, Amir's girlfriend; and leading activist Fadwa. Young people's passion, impatience, and idealism that can come with the coming-of-age outrage fuel the burning energy of the sensibilities and sense of unblinking commitment. It's evident in such group numbers as "Tahir Is Now" and "Our Way to Happiness," which is led by Rotana Tarabzouni, appropriately fierce as Fadwa. You may be able to visualize the six marching with fists in the air, feet pounding the ground (and standing their ground).

Highlights of this cast's recording include: the a cappella ensemble piece "Genealogy of Revolution"; the kind of outlier zip in the splashy, strutting, mocking "The Benevolent Regime of King Farouk II," performed by John El-Jor as Karim; the sweet-voiced tones of Drew Elhamalawy as Hassan when his character's resistance to the resistance melts in "The Wall IV"; the duet of "Movement" for Nadina Hassan as Layla and Ali Louis Bourzgui as Amir. Actually, almost every track where the latter's strikingly disarming voice is prominent is compelling. Michael Khalid Karadsheh strongly rounds out the cast as Hany.

Orchestrations are by Michael Starobin, although they won't remind you of what this versatile veteran has designed for scores by Stephen Sondheim, William Finn, or Disney projects. The instrumentation and rhythms atmospherically can evoke the Middle East locale with the use of oud and doumbek (hand drum). While the story is specific to a chapter in the history of one country, the fervor and longing for freedom are universal, so the foreign tale feels emotionally familiar to anyone not living in a bubble during any political uprising, regardless of similarities or sympathies.

The recording, produced by Charlie Rosen, represents the latest incarnation of We Live in Cairo, with the company from last year's Off-Broadway production at the downtown New York Theatre Workshop. The musical had already been developing for about a decade, with readings, residencies, staged presentations, and workshops (including one in Cairo) and a 2019 production in Massachusetts at the American Repertory Theater. An earlier recording, including some of the songs and titled after one of them, Flap My Wings (Songs from "We Live in Cairo"), featured the songwriters and Arab performers they admire (who hail from Egypt, Tunisia, Sudan, etc.), and members of the 2019 cast. Along the long gestation, songs were cut, added, changed, and had their order rearranged. In an interview, the Lazour brothers stated that none of the songs in their original draft remain in the current version. They are also its joint bookwriters, and there is some dialogue included in this release.

With the characters' perseverance and poignancy, We Live in Cairo packs a punch.

SACHA
PARIS AFTER DARK
Hear Me Roar Records
CD | Digital

A rather low-key affair featuring gentle performances by a vocalist who rarely raises her voice above a soft, soothing croon, Sacha's new album is a lovely listen. Despite the tranquil sound and its title, Paris After Dark is not all lightness and the famed "City of Light" doesn't get the sole focus of its low-intensity spotlight. There are the obvious choices, such as "April in Paris" (from a 1932 Broadway revue called Walk a Little Faster, written by Vernon Duke and E.Y. Harburg), and material created and first sung by Frenchmen, performed here in the original French, such as the opener, "Je reviens te chercher" by Pierre Delanoë and Gilbert Bécaud, and "La Javanaise" by Serge Gainsbourg. About half the lyrics here are sung in French and half in English, with "Love in Portofino" being a trilingual treat, including its original Italian words. You might guess that the inclusion of a Cole Porter number would be one of his France-centric gems, but instead the choice is his "In the Still of the Night" (sung in English), which does suit the "After Dark" time.

There's a smile in the voice of this chanteuse–and not just on the oft-covered ballad called "Smile"–which sometimes works against the sadness found in French "lost love" lyrics. Those who don't have much of a grasp of that language and are content to have their ears caressed by the pretty sounds may be blithely unaware and not care. The CD packaging doesn't include the words of the songs or summaries of their content, but translations of the French lyrics are easily found on the internet. The fold-out CD packaging makes room for comments from the singer, her special thanks, five large glam color photos, credits for her stylists, engineers, and musicians; the songwriters' names are not included.

The highlight of Paris After Dark is its most dramatic performance: one presenting a creative concept that succeeds superbly. While the band plays the familiar Jacques Brel melody of the pleading "Ne me quitte pas," featuring the trumpeter's haunting mournful sound, Sacha brings in almost none of its words. Instead, she sings an English language number that could be its cousin in anguish and devastating desperation. It's "I'm a Fool to Want You" (introduced by Frank Sinatra, who co-wrote it with Jack Wolf and Joel Herron). The admitted tortured helplessness of an addiction to an unhealthy relationship is convincing. Pain is palpable.

Billed just by her first name, Sacha (full name: Sacha Boutros) is a lady who grew up in the United States and moved to the city referenced in this album's name eight years ago. She's the producer of this release on which she is accompanied by an atmosphere-creating quintet. Its members are pianist Franck Amsallem (with whom she shares credits for the arrangements), trumpeter Stéphane Belmondo, guitarist Hugo Lippi, bassist Thomas Bramerie, and drummer Tony Rabeson.

There are only 10 tracks on Paris After Dark, averaging four minutes apiece. It's a companion concept album to its predecessors: Sacha's New York After Dark and Mexico After Dark. Her bio states that she sings in 14 languages, so I wonder what's next.

ALLAN HARRIS
THE POETRY OF JAZZ
LIVE AT BLUE LLAMA
Love Productions/Live at Blue LLama Records
CD | Digital

Poems share the spotlight and sensibilities with songs–spoken pieces segueing into sung performance–on the most recent album by vocalist Allan Harris. The Poetry of Jazz, Live at Blue Llama was recorded at a venue in Ann Arbor, Michigan last year. The texts of all the poems are thoughtfully included in a booklet accompanying the CD. The amiable and sincere personality and his folksy manner make the poems feel sort of like thoughtful diary entries. As usual, his bluesy jazz approach to music also suggests intimacy in a comfort zone, even more so in a captured in-person engagement. The musings and moods in the poems, with simpatico mellow instrumental underscoring by the band, suggest the atmosphere of a mid-20th century Greenwich Village coffee house gathering with beat poets sharing their work with an audience settled in and digging it all.

In the case of one track, a poem becomes a song–with "The Weary Blues" by Langston Hughes set to a melody composed by Allan Harris. The Hughes description of a performance by a weary pianist/singer in Harlem is further dignified by melody. Otherwise, the poems, recited in a laid-back, unpretentious way, simply precede and lead into a companion song. Some are more closely aligned than others, but the partnered pieces do inform each other, and nothing is jarring when the likeable fellow and band make the switch. However, after the early Hughes treatment (it's the second track), it feels like a missed opportunity to not have the pleasure of hearing another familiar poem getting new life with music added. After all, popular poets represented have had their work effectively set to music over the years, and although many may be more in the formal style of art songs that is far afield from the usual Harris wheelhouse, I suspect he could find something suitable in the settings of pieces by the represented wordsmiths Maya Angelou, Robert Frost, Lord Byron, Mary Oliver, and Dylan Thomas. And then there's Shakespeare.

There are three dips into the Bard's sonnets and two lyrics by Johnny Mercer, who has been referred to as "the poet laureate of popular song," are on the docket: "When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes" segues into "Charade" (Mercer/ Henry Mancini), "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" introduces "Midnight Sun" (Mercer/ Lionel Hampton), while "Let me not to the marriage of true minds" leads into the bossa nova "Desafinado." Those last two songs were on the debut disc of Allan Harris, back in 1995. (This album's track list does not credit anyone for the English lyric sung to Jobim's melody; of the different English treatments, it's the one by Jon Hendricks and Jessie Cavanaugh.) And two of the Harris originals were on studio albums, too: "Secret Moments" and "Shallow Man."

Mr. Harris plays guitar himself, joining pianist John DeMartino, drummer Sylvia Cuenca, bassist Jay White, and violinist Alan Grubner. The Poetry of Jazz can be the best of both worlds as they meet. This month finds Allan Harris doing programs and poetry at three California venues and on November 29 at the Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan.

A recording by warm-spirited, classy Allan Harris is always welcome.