Rapper Soulja on why Sudan’s rhythms could shape the next global club sound

Musician believes Sudanese zanig is the next South African amapiano when it comes to uniting dance floors

Soulja’s latest singles explore movement, displacement and the search for a distinct Sudanese sound. Photo: Empire Wana

When he is not touring or in the studio, Soulja can be found involved in what is akin to field research. Presently in Nairobi, the Sudanese rapper – real name Usama Ashraf – spends his evenings in clubs and music lounges in whichever city he is in, gauging what moves the dance floor.

If a particular song or deft mix from an artist or the DJ gets the room going, Soulja takes out his phone, where an app measures the tempo change. The readings are then filed into a growing archive that already includes Cairo and Dubai.

“It is a different way of doing things,” he admits with a chuckle. “But it is fascinating what people are drawn to, and in many ways, it is not what you think. The studio, with all its technology and great audio quality, can at times trick you into believing you have the right sound. But it is only when you are in the clubs that you get the truth immediately in real movement, and you know if a beat really works.”

New Year's Eve concerts and events in UAE, from Alicia Keys to Maroon 5

Read More

As for the information gleaned from those nocturnal sojourns, Soulja predicts the Sudanese rhythm zanig could have the same effect as South Africa’s amapiano – a sultry mix of house, electronic beats and gospel keyboard chords – in becoming the next hot sound to be heard in Ibiza.

Soulja aims to bring Sudanese music to a new generation of listeners. Photo: @souljamusic / YouTube

He describes the genre – rooted in eastern Sudan and built on fast percussion, looping drum lines and close, call-and-response vocals – as capable of drawing the same reaction on international dance floors as in the wedding halls of Port Sudan and Kassala.

“Sudanese music, especially zanig, already has the elements a great sound needs – the drums are fast and the melodies are euphoric. It is not too complicated; when you hear it, you know exactly how your body should move. Amapiano spread because it came as a complete package: a type of music, a dance and an aesthetic. I see all those elements in zenji. I just need to find a way to bring it together as a full package.”

Until he lands on the formula, Soulja has already helped pushed Sudan’s musical identity forward. His catalogue of hip-hop delivered in Sudanese vernacular carries a directness that has raised awareness of the country’s sounds while portraying a proud nation in turmoil.

His latest single, the exuberant Location, rides on sprightly keyboard lines shaped by Sudanese folk melodies. Soulja uses football as a metaphor for resilience, turning it into a universal message while keeping the lyrics grounded in the instability created by Sudan’s civil war, with repeated lyrical nods to displacement.

It bookends a strong year of releases that began with February’s Argeen, named after the Sudanese–Egyptian border crossing, where he blends North African rhythms with vocals inspired by Egyptian and Sudanese folk traditions. The track reflects on the pain of displacement and how a sense of stability can be found with family and community.

The work joins other singles spanning five years and amassing nearly 60 million views on YouTube. Bringi (2022), built on zar rhythms – a trance-based spiritual tradition found in Sudan and parts of Egypt – enjoyed a viral spark soon after release, while Charleston, with its bright saxophone touches, drew from Sudan’s 1970s golden era of music.

If these sounds feel as fresh as they do familiar, Soulja says it comes from Sudan’s history and its wide geography.

“Sudanese music as we know it started in the 1940s, a period after the Second World War when British soldiers came with jazz and blues and Sudanese musicians mixed those with our folk sounds,” he says. “Every region has its own sound. In the west, people used to tie cans to their legs when they danced so the movement made a shaker sound. Everywhere you go, you hear a different colour. Many of those colours disappeared because of the lack of media broadcasting the music. So, I feel like the next phase of my journey is to shine a light on that.”

Indeed, Soulja’s songs, paired with his stage presence – part authoritative, part measured cool – have created a buzz that hints at where a new Sudanese sound could go, and how its culture can be carried to a world watching the devastation at home.

He says the ongoing civil war along with his wish to push Sudanese and wider Arabic hip-hop beyond its American influences, only intensified his drive to bring the sounds of home to the forefront of his music.

“I was in Sudan when the war started,” he says. “We are a big family and I am the eldest, so I was trying to get everyone out, and I feel I carry the same burden every Sudanese youth carried. I lived that struggle completely. That is why the war is still the main thing in my music. I lived the details.”

And that comes through in the central theme of movement, both in sound and in lyrics, including the title of his early EP Al Rahal (2019), meaning “the traveller,” drawn directly from his own life on the road.

Born in Jeddah in Saudi Arabia, Soulja undertook his university studies in the Malaysian capital Kuala Lumpur, as well as living in Cairo and Khartoum.

“Movement has been forced on me since childhood because of my father’s job; every time he changed offices, we moved with him,” he recalls. “As I have grown older, I feel I have become more nomadic. I move a lot, sometimes because of circumstances, sometimes because I just cannot stay in one place. After three months in a country, when people feel settled, I feel like I have to leave.”

Soulja says moving often gives him the perspective that shapes his music. Photo: Empire Wana

He describes the rare constant in his life as the music studio. “It feels like the only place I can express myself,” he says. “When I am there, it feels like the world is locked outside. It can burn, flip or explode, but I am not thinking about it. I am inside the kicks, the snares, the melodies. That is how I escape the world and it feels like the only way I know how to speak and how to enjoy myself.”

Further grounding is provided by his mother’s advice offered in childhood. “She would tell me do not be afraid of being afraid. I have learnt that you should not be scared of your feelings, whatever they are,” Soulja says. “I apply that to my music, in that I am not scared to try new things while representing my culture. I am trying my best to reach a sound that feels vital and fresh, one we want to send out to the world.”