Cat Stevens:

Von London nach Babylon und zurück

Kritiker werfen ihm Gefälligkeit vor, Fans halten ihn für den begnadetsten Singer-Songwriter aller Zeiten. Yusuf Islam, der als Cat Stevens mit Songs wie «Morning has broken» bekannt geworden war, stand wieder im Studio. «Tell'em I'm Gone» ist kein Meisterwerk, doch genaueres Hinhören lohnt sich.

«I was born in the West End / in the Summer of 48 / above a small café / some people liked to come there and call it night / but for me it was all day»

Dies sind die ersten Zeilen des Stücks «Editing Floor Blues» des neuen Albums von Yusuf. Yusuf? War das nicht ...? Doch. Geboren als Steven Demetre Georgiou oberhalb jenes Cafés in London, eroberte Yusuf unter dem Pseudonym Cat Stevens bereits im Alter von 18 Jahren die britischen Charts. Danach zog er sich ein erstes Mal zurück – nur um zu Beginn der 1970er-Jahre umso grösser und bekannter zu werden.

Seine Lieder sang man im Schweizer Musikunterricht

Die meisten seiner bekanntesten Songs stammen aus jener Zeit seines ersten Comebacks: «Peace Train», «Moon Shadow», «The First Cut Is The Deepest» und natürlich «Morning Has Broken», ein von Stevens bearbeitetes gälisches Volkslied, das in den 1980er-Jahren sogar ins Schweizer Unterrichtsmedium «Musik auf der Oberstufe» aufgenommen wurde.

1977 verabschiedete sich Cat Stevens mit seinem elften Studioalbum von seinen Fans – und konvertierte zum Islam. Stevens nannte sich fortan Yusuf (arabisch für Joseph) Islam, ging eine arrangierte Ehe ein, der fünf Kinder entsprangen. Er gründete mehrere Schulen im Norden Londons sowie eine karitative Organisation, die Projekte im Balkan und in Afrika unterstützt.

Das Comeback nach Jahren der Stille

Mit der Musik, wie sie im Westen gespielt und geschätzt wird, schien Yusuf abgeschlossen zu haben. Doch dies änderte sich: 1997 trat er an einer Benefizveranstaltung in Sarajevo auf, weitere Auftritte, unter anderem in New York, folgten. Laut eigener Aussage brachte ihn schliesslich sein Sohn dazu, wieder zur Gitarre zu greifen, obwohl Yusuf das Instrument als unislamisch betrachtete.

«Tell ’Em I’m Gone» ist nun bereits das dritte Album, das der Musiker unter dem Namen Yusuf veröffentlicht. Es klingt, als ob er nach dem Verrichten seines körperlich anstrengenden Tagwerks mit hochgekrempelten Ärmeln durch Baumwollfelder nach Hause streift. In der linken Hand die Gitarre und in der rechten – nein, keine Motorsäge – sondern eher eine Sense. Denn «Tell ’Em I’m Gone» klingt handgemacht, zeitlos und reduziert.

Von Babylon zurück nach London

Das dürfte Rick Rubins Handschrift geschuldet sein, der einige Songs produzierte, darunter Coverversionen von Klassikern wie «Big Boss Man» und «The Devil Came From Kansas».

Fazit: Ein Lied ist misslungen, eines überflüssig, eines klingt wie der frühe Cat Stevens, und zwei sind grossartig, darunter das mit den Musikern von Tinariwen und dem Gitarristen Richard Thompson eingespielte «I Was Raised In Babylon».

Wollten wir Yusuf unterstellen, dass das Lied «I Was Raised In Babylon» autobiografisch ist, könnte es auch «A British Life» heissen. Ein in London geborener Sohn einer Schwedin und eines Griechen hat früh Erfolg, gibt die Musik auf, konvertiert zum Islam, findet zurück zur Musik, wechselt insgesamt drei Mal die Identität und bleibt trotzdem, was er schon immer war: ein beneidenswert guter Singer-Songwriter aus London.

«I was raised in Babylon / our priests told us how to worship the sun / but where did we go wrong / they used to call us civilised / but those days are gone»

[srf.ch, 24. Okt. 2014]

"Cat Stevens Sings the Blues" is probably not a concept for an album that you ever would have pictured coming to fruition. You would scarcely have imagined him as a bluesman in the '70s, when Stevens was one of our preeminent folk-rockers, known for gentle ballads like "Oh Very Young" and "Wild World." And you probably would have seen such a thing coming even less after the religious conversion that had the artist now known as Yusuf swearing off popular music completely for more than a quarter-century.

Yet, against all odds, here we are in 2014, with Yahoo premiering Yusuf's video of "Tell 'Em I'm Gone," which is, of all things, a Leadbelly cover. It's the title track of his new album, co-produced with Rick Rubin, which arrives in stores Oct. 27. It's hardly as if the entire 10-song collection is a hardcore blues set; most of the tracks are new, original compositions, and anyone who loved the Cat Stevens records of the '70s will feel on familiar enough turf. But the singer felt compelled in spirit and occasionally in genre to dig back to the rootsier music that inspired him even before he became the bearded face of soft-rock. "I love moving, I like experimenting, and it's one particular path I just wanted to go down for a long time," he told Yahoo.

Of this song in particular, Yusuf says, "Tell 'Em I'm Gone' is the title track of the album, and it personifies in a way the main message of the album. It's about telling the Captain - telling all authority you know - 'See you later.' It was one of the first songs I ever learned to play while I was supposed to be studying in art school"

but instead was "just learning the chords to these Lead Belly songs."

 The impetus for the Tell 'Em I'm Gone album "just all came together when I wrote down a list of all my favorite blues classics," he further explained to Yahoo.

"I couldn't do all of them, but I've done some, like [Luther Dixon's] 'Big Boss Man,' for instance. And then there were other songs which I always loved, like [Edgar Winter's] 'Dying to Live,' and the Ray Charles-inspired [arrangement] of 'You Are My Sunshine.' I do like changing sceneries. And I liked exploring the genre because that's where I really developed my heartbeat, if you like, in my musical life. That was back when I was a teenager, listening to all these incredible songs coming out —  freshly waxed singles from Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Jimmy Reed, and John Lee Hooker. I mean, they were just the staple diet of most British bands at that time, who were all playing that repertoire."

The phrase "Tell 'em I'm gone" has multiple resonances in Yusuf's case. He really was gone from the pop music scene between 1978, when he released his last album as Cat Stevens, and 2006, when he began recording music with instrumentation again, following a period when his only records were religious songs for children and/or a cappella music. Tell 'Em I'm Gone is Yusuf's third album since he resumed making secular albums for major labels.

What's really news for Yusuf this year is the fact that the recent Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee is touring in America for the first time since 1976. What's 38 years between local gigs, right? The bad news is that securing a ticket could be tough, since he only has six North American gigs booked in December, ending with a show at L.A.'s Nokia Theatre. There was a seventh planned, in New York City, but he canceled it because of scalping concerns.

"It's because I've felt that there was such a demand from my fans to not leave the U.S.A. out of my touring plans, and I think it just took me time," he says, not offering a great deal of explanation. "There was a point where I was gonna do a tour, I think back in 2009, but I wasn't feeling ready at that time. And now I'm feeling much better about my band. and I have a great crew that has made touring much easier, it's made much easier for me, so I enjoy it a lot more now."

What was up with canceling that New York concert, though? It has to do with the fairness of paperless ticketing. "The prices were going crazy, and I just didn't think that was very fair on the average fans," he says. "It was just going wild. So we found out that New York has a particular kind of law which facilitates [ticket scalping] as a way to do business. So we just decided to mix it out this time, until things change maybe in the future. But we're doing Philadelphia, which is just nearby, so it should be quite easy for those who really want to make it. If they were going to pay that amount of extortion of money anyway, they could probably just hop on a train."

He hesitates. "The peace train. I would hope it would be the right one," he laughs.

Yusuf doesn't explain it in these terms, but if there's been any reluctance to pop back into the American touring market in a big way, you could venture to guess that it might have to do with his having been a controversial figure in the decades since his Islamic conversion. He alludes to it in one of the album's new songs, "Editing Room Floor," which details a sometimes adversarial relationship with the media: "Then we got down to the truth of it, but they never printed that." This would seem to refer to how he was excoriated for speaking about Salman Rushdie's supposed blasphemy; his subsequent nuancing of how he'd intended his remarks was less reported upon.

That song "has got a lot of autobiographical leaning," Yusuf says. "It's a fun song in which I kind of try to laugh at some of the situations I've been put in with the press through the years, and so I'm sort of just getting my own back… There's a trail of misconceptions which I had tag along with me for many years. But the good news is, I've got a chance to write my own songs and explain my side of the story, which is why I'm singing again. I find it easier to write a song and explain my feelings, and expose myself — my true self — rather than the way people picture me through the media and through the press. It's the most direct way. And I suppose live music is even more direct, and that's why it's so vital and I enjoy that, too."

The song "Cat and the Dog Trap" also refers to real-life events and feelings, as you might suss from the title. It's an explanation of why, all religious conversions aside, he felt he had to get out of the fame game.

"I like to borrow from reality, so that song has a lot of relevance to my history," he says. "I started making records at the age of 18, and at that time, everyone was telling you what you had to be - how you had to loo, talk, behave, and sing, and everything was kind of packaged for me." This was a very brief period at the end of the '60s when Cat Stevens was being marketed as a bit of an Austin Powers-lookalike dandy. "And I had to rebel from that original cage, and that's where I started to try with my second career, if you like" - meaning, the folk-rock that felt more organic to him. "But then again, at the end of my second career, I felt as if I was being also caged in, and I needed to get free again."

"You know, a man is in a constant sort of struggle for freedom, to find a better place where he can relax and be at peace," Yusuf further explains. "And I think that again, this has a kind of reference to the way in which one is perceived by others. Look at the (scriptural) story of Joseph. It's pretty clear, you know: here was an innocent man, a great and beautiful soul, who was put in prison for no reason, other than that the wife of his master fancied him. And so there is a kind of a mirror of that story in there, too, which is the story of Joseph, which is my name."

But was he partly in a prison of his own making? When I last met up with Yusuf in London in the year 2000, he had come to terms with his past as a pop star and was happily promoting his catalog product, yet he then had no intention of making new music for a secular audience. His only new release was A Is for Allah, a children's educational project. At that time, he believed that a return to pop would not conflict with his spiritual beliefs, but he did not wish to upset those in his community who didn't have the same progressive view. It took a few years after he moved to Dubai in 2001 for him to come around to thinking that he could make a comeback without worrying about what anyone else thought.

"I went through a very, very conservative period," Yusuf allows, "where I wanted really nothing to do with anything that I'd ever done before. I didn't really consider music as necessary at that point. Because I had a life, and I'd been singing since I was barely 18, so I was looking for a way out. But what you should know is I've actually written a book recently which is just being published here in the Middle East for the first time, and it's called Why I Still Carry a Guitar. And it goes into into all the details, really, about my study of the whole matter and reckonings with the issue — within my lifestyle as a Muslim, whether or not it's valid. And I do find now that [music] is incredibly valid and very important."

"I think music is a great creator of equilibrium. It can be. There are people who are passionate about religion, and that's fine. But, you know, everyone's got to live in this world too, so you've got to balance your spiritual goals with the reality of the material side of life. And I think that's just one of the things which people tend to think that in order to be truly religious, you've got to give up absolutely everything. But I think that I've learned that everything can be done in a kind of moderation, and as long as you keep it kind of ethically pure, there's nothing you can't really get involved in. You can explore so much of the material world with a spiritual goal as well."

"If you listen to the [outside] voices, you'll never make up your own mind. And you have to, at some point, look at your intentions of why you do something. Yeah, it's good to consider and take time off to think about what you're doing, but I really became much more at ease with the whole idea of music, if you separate it from the business. Because there's always a dark side to the music business. But music itself has really been therapy for many people. It's a lifeline, in a way. I remember what it meant to me when I was growing up. And I said, 'Wow, I could still write songs.' If I can, let's do some more!"

[music.yahoo.com, 17. Okt. 2014]

Der Altmeister Cat Stevens hat jetzt den Blues

Als Yusuf meldet er sich mit einem Album zurück –

und zeigt seine Wandlungsfähigkeit.

Als Yusuf das Hotelzimmer in Berlin betritt, verlässt sein Blick nur kurz das Display seines Smartphones. Mit geübten Gesten wischt er vor dem letzten Interview des Tages zwischen den Programmen hin und her. Dann setzt sich Yusuf aufs Sofa, lässt sich eine Tasse Tee bringen und lächelt. Seine Hände sind runzlig geworden, der Bart schneeweiß, die Stimme rauer.

Ist das der Mann, der als Cat Stevens vor 40 Jahren einen Pop-Hit nach dem anderen landete? Der als Yusuf Islam zum streng religiösen Muslim wurde und jahrelang untertauchte?

Er ist es, doch der 66-Jährige hat eine neue Entwicklung vollzogen:

Sein neues Album „Tell ‘Em I’m Gone”, das am Freitag erscheint, führt ihn zurück in seine Jugendtage – und strotzt vor Blues-Sound. „Schon als Teenager habe ich Rhythm and Blues gehört, die kleinen Scheiben aus schwarzem Wachs aus den USA haben mich beeinflusst“, erzählt Yusuf.

Der Titelsong ist eine Hommage an diese Zeit. „Als Kunststudent habe ich oft auf der Feuertreppe gesessen und Gitarre gespielt, als ich eigentlich im Unterricht hätte sein sollen. Lead Bellys ‚Take this hammer‘ war eines der ersten Lieder, die ich damals gelernt habe. „Tell ‘Em I’m Gone‘ ist meine ganz persönliche Interpretation.“

Jaulende Gitarren lassen im neuen Album den Sound der 50er Jahre aufleben, neue afrikanische Elemente wie die der Sahara-Band Tinariwen im Ray-Charles-Cover „You are my sunshine“ sollen an die Entstehung des Blues erinnern. „Für die Sklaven aus Afrika war die Gitarre der Schlüssel zur Freiheit. Es ist großartig, den Wurzeln dieser Musik zu folgen. So kommt man an ihren Kern.“

Warum hat er den Weg zum Blues nicht schon viel früher eingeschlagen?

„Ich war wohl zu individualistisch“, gibt der Sänger heute zu. „Und ich ging durch eine Phase, in der andere Leute meine Musik bestimmten.“ Erst als sich der damalige Cat Stevens im Jahr 1969 nach einer Tuberkulose-Erkrankung zurückmeldete, hatte er endlich den Mumm, seinen eigenen Stil zu suchen. Erfüllt vom Erfolg war der Troubadour trotzdem nicht, ihm fehlte die spirituelle Erfüllung – bis ihm sein Bruder 1976 einen Koran schenkte. „Meine Identität habe ich so ziemlich gefunden, als ich meinen Glauben gefunden habe.“

Worte statt Waffen, Klänge statt Kugeln

Zu den Unruhen auch in der islamischen Welt mag er, der berühmte Konvertit, sich eigentlich nicht so recht äußern. Skeptisch rutscht er auf dem Sofa ein Stück weiter weg, sagt dann aber doch: „Es geht nicht um die Frage: Auf welcher Seite stehst du? Wir brauchen mehr Protagonisten! Auf beiden Seiten. In den Krieg zu gehen, ist einfach, Frieden zu schaffen, komplizierter.“

Worte statt Waffen, Klänge statt Kugeln: Dieser Botschaft ist Yusuf in all den Jahren treugeblieben, und er wird sie auch bei seiner Deutschland-Tour im November besingen. „Ich bin jemand, der immer noch träumt“, sagt Yusuf und nippt ein letztes Mal an seinem Tee. In Berlin bleibt er nur noch eine Nacht, dann geht der Flieger nach Miami. Yusuf geht endgültig seinen eigenen Weg.

[wz-newsline.de, 21. Okt. 2014]

Pop-Legende Yusuf:

«Ich träume noch immer»

- Frieden und Freiheit - das waren die Schlüsselworte von Cat Stevens, und es sind die von Yusuf.

Im dpa-Interview spricht der 66 Jahre alte Sänger über sein neues Blues-Album «Tell 'Em I'm Gone», das am Freitag erscheint, und seine Religion: «Auch viele Muslime müssen noch viel lernen.»

Yusuf, als Cat Stevens waren Sie ein westlicher Popstar, unter Ihrem neuen Namen richten Sie Ihr Leben nach dem Koran. Haben Sie Ihre Identität gefunden?

Ich wandle zwischen zwei Welten. Da ist es schwierig, genau zu sagen: Das ist, wer ich bin. Ja, ich habe meine Identität so ziemlich gefunden, als ich meinen Glauben gefunden habe. Aber zu sagen, dass ich aufgehört habe zu lernen, ist unmöglich. Wissen kann aus jeder Richtung kommen, aber man muss offenherzig genug sein, um es zu empfangen.

 Auf Ihrem neuen Album «Tell 'Em I'm Gone» lassen Sie den amerikanischen Blues-Sound der 50er-Jahre auferstehen. Was verbindet Sie mit dieser Musik?

Schon als Teenager habe ich Rhythm and Blues gehört, die kleinen Scheiben aus schwarzem Wachs aus den USA haben mich beeinflusst: Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry... Das waren die ersten Lieder, die ich auf der Gitarre gelernt habe, auf einer Feuertreppe, als ich als Kunststudent eigentlich im Unterricht sein sollte. Es ist großartig, den Wurzeln dieser Musik zu folgen - das führt dich an ihren Kern.

Mit Blues sind Sie aber nicht bekanntgeworden. Warum nicht?

Ich war wahrscheinlich zu individualistisch. Als ich anfing, Platten zu machen, ging ich durch eine Phase, in der andere Leute meine Musik bestimmten. Das war hart für mich. «Tell 'Em I'm Gone» steht für den Abschied davon, im Käfig der Wahrnehmung anderer zu sein. Dafür, deinen eigenen Weg zu finden, der dir entspricht und angenehmer ist, als von anderen einen Stempel aufgedrückt zu bekommen.

Im November treten Sie mit Ihrer Tour «Peace train... late again» in Berlin, Hamburg und Düsseldorf auf. Die Konflikte sind seit 1971, als Sie «Peace Train» schrieben, nicht weniger geworden.

Das ist richtig. Ich trage weiter die Botschaft der Hoffnung. Aber ich bin auch Realist - und noch ist es nicht soweit. Ich bin jemand, der immer noch träumt.

Sowohl im Namen des Islam als auch im Namen der Demokratie wird dieser Tage Unrecht getan.

Stimmt. Die Frage sollte aber nicht sein: Auf welcher Seite stehst du? Das wäre antagonistisch. Wir brauchen mehr Protagonisten! So wie ich das sehe, sind die rar gesät. Auf beiden Seiten. Es ist leicht, in den Krieg zu ziehen, Frieden zu schaffen ist so viel komplizierter. Ich denke, der Schlüssel ist die Bildung. Ohne Bildung werden die Menschen sich ihre Lektionen von anderen holen, und die werden wahrscheinlich nicht ausgebildet sein und radikal denken.

Nach ihrer Konversion zum Islam haben Sie jahrelang keine Musik mehr gemacht. Warum hat es so lange gedauert, bis Sie sagten: Die Gitarre und der Islam schließen sich nicht aus?

Ich muss mich immer noch oft erklären, weil es auch in der muslimischen Gemeinde Kritik gibt. Einige muslimische Kritiker haben nur eine pauschale Idee davon, was Musik bedeutet. Meine Texte haben sie offensichtlich nicht gelesen. Genauso, wie viele Leute nur eine pauschale Idee davon haben, wofür Muslime stehen. Da gibt es so viele Zerrbilder... zerbrochene Spiegel. Aber, nochmal, auch viele Muslime müssen noch viel lernen. Ich glaube, meine Position ist da ziemlich einzigartig und wichtig, um eine Brücke zu schlagen.

[wz-newsline, 22. Okt. 2014]

New music is on the way from Yusuf Islam. The singer confirmed that his new album, Tell ’Em I’m Gone, will be released before the end of the year and is set to contain a possible classic.

“It is a very strong album with a strong message of freedom,” he says. “Half of the songs are blues classics and many talk about the injustices of the world and how people need to resist becoming slaves to others. Hence the title, Tell ‘Em I’m Gone.

There is a song called I Was Raised in Babylon, which some believe to be a milestone of a song, talking about the rise and fall of civilisations, and the reason for their failure.”

Stevie Nicks breaks down in tears as Yusuf Islam performs.

Fleetwood Mac’s Stevie Nicks is one of rock’s toughest figures, but even she was reduced to a teary mess when Yusuf Islam sang during the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony in New York in April.

“It was an important night and a lot of people cried when they heard me again,” he says, “None more than Stevie Nicks who had to excuse herself from watching for fear of bursting into tears. Music has a massive effect on people and you must respect that.”

[thenational.ae, 10. Sept. 2014]

“What’s powerful and profound, to me, is the overall message which emerged, lyrically. It suddenly stared me in the face:

the struggle for Freedom!

My God, isn’t that what most human beings dream of?

I hope this record will help revive the spirit of Freedom…

and re-kindle some of the excitement of those amazing days,

when every musical door seemed to point us a way

out of our imprisonment.”

Yusuf/ Cat Stevens Talks New Album

and Career with Will Oldham

Yusuf / Cat Stevens will release his first studio album in five years on October 27. The follow-up to 2009's Roadsinger, which is dubbed Tell 'Em I'm Gone, comes co-produced by Rick Rubin and includes collaborations with Will Oldham (a.k.a. Bonnie "Prince" Billy), Chavez frontman (and frequent Oldham collaborator) Matt Sweeney, Tinariwen, and more. 

Mixed with help from founding Yardbirds member Paul Samwell-Smith, the upcoming LP nods to the R&B that Yusuf listened to while growing up (according to Rolling Stone) and spans ten songs, five of which are original compositions and five of which are covers. Yusuf has already shared one track from Tell 'Em I'm Gone - a piano-driven rendition of Edgar Winter's 1971 track "Dying to Live" - and now the Rock and Roll Hall of Famer has let go of a second: a new version of "The Devil Came From Kansas," a 1969 song by English band Procol Harum.

"Procol Harum was one of my favorite bands," Yusuf tells SPIN. "We kind of started out together in a way on this very exclusive label called Deram back in the '60s. My drummer Barry went to join them so he actually played on 'Whiter Shade of Pale,' which I think is one of the best pop songs ever. They wrote some great songs and I wanted to sing something that respected their repertoire and I don't know why but it was something that happened in Kansas when I was traveling. This was kind of apt for me and it reflected some of my memories."

How are you doing?

Really good. We've been just rehearing at the moment. I've got everything set up here, so I'm kind of running through, just me and a guitar, various guitars. You know, just me alone, and it's feeling pretty good, so I'm thinking the band's going to make it sound so much better. I want to thank you, Will, for everything you've done on the album. It sounds so lovely. It's so good.

I've been listening to it non-stop all week since I got it, and yeah, it sounds really exciting. All right, I've got a really deep question for you: What is "The Devil Came from Kansas" even about?

You know what? I'm frightened to ask [Procol Harum's] Keith Reid, just in case it really disappoints me. But to me, I had a pretty bad trip in Kansas once, and I wrote a song about it called "18th Avenue (Kansas City Nightmare)."

Oh, I love that song.

There is something to do with a devilish night that I had out there. So that song, "18th Avenue," really does document very clearly what happened. I actually did run to the airport after coming off this terrible trip, and finally making it. And that was Gate 22 that I had to reach. So it's all kind of really quite documented in that song.

That's great, because this week, in preparation for talking with you, I've been listening to the last few records, and just randomly pulled out [1972's] Catch Bull at Four as the one old record that I was listening to, so it's nice to hear that there's this Kansas connection that draws a line between the two records.

Yeah. It's not as if I hold any grudge to the people of Kansas, but it just seems to be a good place to talk badly about.

Have you ever been to Missouri?

I can't remember, to be honest.

I played there once, and I was on one of those tours where there's too many cities, and so from the stage I said, "Wait a minute, where am I?" And there was a woman from the audience who screamed out, "You're in Misery!" And I felt that she was partway correct.

There are many things that I'd love to ask you about. I had a relationship with your music sort of as a kid growing up, and then in the '90s I started to dig in deep, and I started to discover with each record that I'd never personally owned how amazing and ambitious and innovative the artwork was. When I found a real copy of [1973's] Foreigner, and it had the thick cardboard that you pull out, and it had the picture of the - it's like a polar bear. Am I remembering that right?

Yeah, yeah. Absolutely.

And then, of course, [1975's] Numbers had the two different ways you could put the sleeve in to have a different cover image on the front, and then there's the full sort of storybook inside. Were those things that you pushed for? Did those ideas all come from you, or did you have a great team at the label? Or how did that happen?

It was mostly my ideas. And I remember Numbers, I went through various things, and some of them were really quite good, and I wish I'd have followed my instinct on some of them. But in the end, it was mostly my ideas, and I'd kind of work with Roland Young, who was the head of the art and design at A&M Records. And I used to hang out with him more than I hung out with anyone else, really. I loved working on the covers.

In the time during the '80s and '90s, when — at least, as far as the public was concerned — you weren't involved in the creation of music. Was that a period where there wasn't visual art activity going on?

I did calligraphy. I came out with a book called The Koranic Alphabet. And I was fascinated with the ability of Arabic text to turn into all sorts of images and abstract ideas, because it's just an incredible tool. So I got off on that a little bit, but I wasn't doing art so much. I left music, in a way. I was seriously doubtful about its place, because I'd been warned by certain kind of factions within the [Muslim] community who believed it was very, very wrong and dangerous. And they gave me enough of a talking to for me to just say, "Well, you know what? Until I know better, until I know what this is all about, I'm going to just hang up my guitar and leave this thing." And that's what I did.

The last song on [1978's] Back to Earth, is that called "Never?"

Yeah.

From my little seat here in Kentucky, I always do a lot of inferring. I was inferring that that was a statement about what was about to happen in terms of specifically your relationship to expressing your essence through music. Is that a stretch?

Yeah, that was the reason I put it as the last song. And there was another song on there called "The Last Love Song." So all these kind of hints of where I was going, where I was destined to go.

And when [1995's] The Life of the Last Prophet came out, I have to say that it felt so good to hear you expressing yourself through singing again after so long, and expressing it in that way, and seeing you bring your experiences of the previous ten or 15 years into something that you were able and willing to share with the audience again was very heartening.

Well, every time I was asked to attend a meeting or give a talk, they'd inevitably ask me to sing, you know? So the Muslim community really was starving for something. And obviously, I filled the gap for a lot of people, especially when I realized, there's not enough kids' records. There's not enough music for kids, songs that children can sing, even in our own school. We needed to start developing those things. So that's where the whole propulsion towards writing again started. But I was still hesitant, because it was still a blur, and I was still living in a black-and-white world. I saw things very, "It's either going to be, or it's not going to be. It can't be a possible." 

But the more I saw the effect of music on kids, I just went, "Oh, wow." I remember when I was a kid, when I just used to love listening to something again and again and over and over. You know, everybody else got sick of it, but I loved that discovery of music and what it did to my world, to my imagination. And so I started really considering, "Yeah, I've got to do more," for kids, particularly.

I guess it would be probably wise to speak a little bit about Tell 'Em I'm Gone. There are things I didn't know about who was on the record, and there's this speaking voice that comes in. And it was very interesting to see that the voice belonged to Paul Samwell-Smith. Can you talk about his participation in this record?

Well, just to recap, [2006's] An Other Cup was really, I think, spurred on by my meeting with [producer] Rick Nowels. Then I wanted to go into a more acoustic feel, and that's where [2009's] Roadsinger came. And I produced that one mostly myself. Quite honestly, the sound isn't that great, but the feel is. So Roadsinger was a great step forward for me in returning to like acoustic-ness. You know, because the Rick Nowels — even though I love An Other Cup, it was very produced. And as you say, there's something about the thing with Paul, where he stripped me down to the very basic essence, and this was where the songs really lived, you know? And we didn't have to do too much to them. And that was always his style. It was very subtle.

So anyway, then this time round, with the blues album, we were talking about Rick Rubin, and we'd heard sort of rumors that he wanted to work with us, and he was certainly of that caliber which I thought, "Well, you know, you can't do wrong here." But I didn't want to do just an ordinary album. I wanted to do my blues album, because I'd been waiting and saving up all my blues songs for this one moment. And we brought out kind of a unique sound, I think. And when we started exploring a little bit with Tinariwen, then we got another angle to this whole thing, which complemented what we'd laid down with Rick.

So Paul Samwell-Smith, was it just an idea to bring that vocalization?

What happened was, I was mixing, and I needed some help. And I just rang up Paul out of the blue and I said, "Look, would you be interested in helping me mix this album?" He jumped at it. He loved the idea. Since then, we've returned to that studio and we've started laying some new tracks down. I must tell you, it's a dream.

Your singing is great and adventurous on this. It seems like you're pushing it a little more in expensive directions than on the previous two records, which is great, especially at the end of the record. I just want to talk to you a bit about your relationship to the human voice and to singing — maybe just by asking from whatever period of time or whatever culture, a favorite singer or two who pushes you to be a better singer yourself.

Well, to be honest, I think it's to do with conviction. It's not so much to do with professional singing. It's to do with the connection of the message of the song, and the message of the song. I think there was no one who expressed songs better, in my time listening to music, than Nina Simone. I think Nina Simone was just like, "Wow." She made the song absolutely real.  She made it hers. And Ray Charles, just what he did with his perfect, perfect screaming and pitch. Just an amazingly rich, velvet voice. I loved his voice.

I'm hoping that means that perhaps in this new round of recordings with Paul we might get to hear a Yusuf scream.

Um, I'm not sure about that. Well, maybe.

[spin.com, 14. Okt. 2014]

Yusuf Cat Stevens - Erstes Studioalbum seit fünf Jahren "Tell 'Em I'm Gone"

Singer/Songwriter-Legende Yusuf/Cat Stevens veröffentlicht am 24. Oktober 2014 sein neues Studioalbum "Tell 'Em I'm Gone" beim Sony Music-Label. Es ist der erste Longplayer des Musikers seit fünf Jahren. Die Aufnahmen fanden in diversen Studios auf der ganzen Welt statt, u.a. in Los Angeles, Dubai, Brüssel und London. Produziert wurden die zehn Songs (fünf Neukompositionen und fünf erlesene Coverversionen) von Yusuf und Rick Rubin (Johnny Cash, Adele, Jay-Z, Black Sabbath u.a.), den Mix übernahmen Yusuf und Paul Samwell-Smith. Als Gastmusiker holte sich der 66-jährige Brite u.a. Folkrock-Ikone Richard Thompson, Blues-Mundharmonika-Legende Charlie Musselwhite, Singer/Songwriter Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, die Grammy-Preisträger Tinariwen und Gitarrist Matt Sweeney ins Studio.

Am Montag, den 21. November wird Legacy Recordings eine spezielle Vinyl-LP-Version von Tell ‘Em I’m Gone veröffentlichen. Die 180g LP wird in eine wunderschöne Gatefold-Hülle verpackt sein und einen MP3-Download des kompletten Albums beinhalten. Zusätzlich wird die erste Pressung der LP das einzigartige, handgezeichnete Artwork von Illustrator William Stout zeigen.

Mit "Tell 'Em I'm Gone" kehrt Yusuf zu den Ursprüngen der musikalischen Inspirationsquellen seiner Teenagertage zurück: amerikanischer Blues und R&B. Zentrales Thema bleibt allerdings der menschliche Drang nach Freiheit. Die Songs des Albums atmen den Geist seiner Anfangstage als ausstrebender Singer/Songwriter in London. Jedes einzelne Stück ist eine Wiederbelebung der uralten Motive von Freiheit und Frieden, die Yusufs musikalische Karriere seit mehr als vier Jahrzehnten prägen. Zu großartigen Neukompositionen wie "I Was Raised In Babylon” und "Cat And The Dog Trap" gesellen sich Coverversionen von Bluespop-Songs und American Standards (“Big Boss Man,” “You Are My Sunshine”), sowie die bewegende Version des Edgar Winter-Stücks "Dying To Live".

"In den fünfzig Jahren meiner musikalischen und spirituellen Forschungsreisen habe ich mich auf verschiedenstes lyrisches Terrain, in melodische Täler und Kadenzen gewagt, und obgleich ich viele Themenfelder beackert habe, gab es stets einen Weg, der mir vorherbestimmt war. Hinter meiner allseits bekannten Persönlickeit des Troubadors lauerte schon immer ein alternatives R&B-Ich, das endlich frei gelassen wurde", erklärt Yusuf. "Das Krafvolle und Tiefgründige daran ist für mich die Gesamt-Botschaft, die textlich aus dem Album hervor geht. Sie starrte mir plötzlich ins Gesicht: der angeborene Drang nach Freiheit. Ist das nicht, wovon der Mensch träumt? Musik und Blues im Besonderen waren für viele, deren Schicksal an das der Reichen und Mächtigen gekettet war, ein Mittel zur Flucht."

[regiomusik.de, 23. Okt. 2014]

Cat Stevens Returns as Yusuf

for Bluesy Album About Breaking Free

Just beyond some palm trees in Dubai, the man many know as Cat Stevens watches the sun set and reflects on Tell 'Em I'm Gone, his upcoming album that's attached to his not-as-known onstage and offstage moniker, Yusuf. His calming voice spills over the phone, disparate from the forceful message he's trying to relay about his bluesy project.

"The message is one of reviving the spirit of freedom in a very kind of broad sense because people today are walking around free relatively but at the same time we’re kind of chained to technology and so many things that encage us," Yusuf, 66, recently told Mashable.

"Breaking free is not easy, especially if you’re conditioned," he added. "[The album is] about looking at one’s condition to see if you can free yourself from some of the chains."

The 10-song outing, Yusuf's 14th studio album since 1967, arrives Oct. 27 filled with a mix of original and covers, including versions of "Big Boss Man" (popularized by Jimmy Reed) and "You Are My Sunshine" (Jimmie Davis and Charles Mitchell).

Even Yusuf's lead-off single, "Dying to Live" is a stirring cover of Edgar Winter, but the standout tracks are the ones where he digs into his qualms with the press about his 1977 religious conversion to Islam; the subsequent nearly 30-year hiatus he took from releasing another album; as well as the controversial "misinterpreted" statements he made about Salman Rushdie and fatwa in 1989.

" 'Editing Floor Blues' is a miniature biography of my moment of entrapment with the press," he said, "and I’m not in anyway antagonistic about it, I just think it’s a fact. I’m airing it out. And 'Cat and the Dog Trap' is kind of on a comicy side as they say. I’ve turned a bit of my life into a comic. A lot of it is being misunderstood from the outside."

Since returning to the music industry in 2006 after 28 years away contributing time and money to the Muslim community, Yusuf has released two albums. Next week's release of Tell 'Em I'm Gone will be his first in more than five years.

Notably, "Cat and the Dog Trap" opens with cat and dog sound effects fused into the track by longtime collaborator Paul Samwell-Smith, who mixed the album alongside Yusuf.

"He had a great time, but there were no cats or dogs I know personally," Yusuf quipped.

In choosing which songs to cover, the "Peace Train" singer narrowed down a list of R&B and blues tunes before picking the main three featured on Tell 'Em I'm Gone.

“'Big Boss Man’ was always one I wanted to do because of my love for Jimmy Reed, and it fits the theme of the album so well," Yusuf said. "On 'You Are My Sunshine,’ I was taking my lead more from Ray Charles than I was from Anne Murray, but I did slip in some lyrics from Anne Murray’s version. 'Dying to Live’ is just one of those great songs and I’ve always loved it, and people should know that song more so I wanted to do that."

Yusuf recorded the album over several years in various countries such as Brussels, Dubai, Los Angeles and London, with Rick Rubin serving as co-producer.

"When I set out do this record I was ready to do faithful covers, but then I think Rick [Rubin] helped me extend my imagination a little bit and personalized my own style," he said. "In that way, one of the influences for me was South African blues flavor and I really like that because blues after all does come from Africa. I’m paying homage to the reality."

For "Gold Digger," he recorded the vocals in South Africa. "It talks about the birth of the [African National Congress] and the whole drive for freedom and equality in South Africa," Yusuf explained, reiterating the album's theme of breaking free from chains.

The overall sound on Tell 'Em I'm Gone isn't a complete departure from the music people remember from him ("Wild World," "Morning Has Broken" and "Father and Son").

As a teenager in London, Yusuf - born Steven Demetre Georgiou - was inspired by what he dubs American blues and R&B. You'll hear that on "I Was Raised in Babylon."

Now far from his birth place of London and also now a 2014 inductee into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Yusuf has more than broken free from whatever was holding him back, and with this album he hopes he can inspire fans to do the same.

"The first step is to look at your heart and see what you’re attached to - oftentimes, you’re attached to material or requirements we think will make our hearts happy," he said. "In some sense our heart is already happy, but we’re covering it with so much garbage. My advice would be to clean up the heart at home and that’s where you’ll get more light coming in."

[mashable.com, 25. Okt. 2014]

Yusuf (Cat Stevens) back to his roots

Soeben sind mit „Tell ’em I’m Gone“ (Legacy/Sony Music) zehn neue Studioaufnahmen von Yusuf (Cat Stevens) erschienen. Wer sich Balladen im Stil der größten Hits des britischen Folkbarden erhoffte, dürfte enttäuscht werden. Wer jedoch einen in Ehren gereiften Blues-Magier erleben will, der unverklärt auf seine musikalischen Anfänge zurückblickt, der erhält ein Album für uneingeschränkten Genuss. Denn die fünf neuen Eigenkompositionen überzeugen ebenso, wie die sorgsam ausgewählten Coverversionen.

An den Reglern sitzt, zum Teil gemeinsam mit Yusuf, Rick Rubin. Und der hält sich wie üblich zurück, wenn es darum geht, dem von ihm betreuten Künstler seinen Stempel aufdrücken zu wollen. Lieber inszeniert er Yusuf pur, indem er ihn ganz einfach gewähren lässt. Mit seiner alterslosen Stimme, mit brillant eingesetztem Gitarrenspiel und guten Freunden wie Richard Thompson, Charlie Musselwhite, Bonnie „Prince“ Billy oder Matt Sweeny, gelingt dem Sechsundsechzigjährigen (mal wieder) große Folk- und Blueskunst.

Doch Yusuf geht es um mehr als nur die Musik an sich. „Was für mich kraftvoll und fundamental ist, das ist die übergreifende Botschaft, die textlich entstanden ist. Sie blickte mich plötzlich ganz direkt an: der angeborene Kampf für Freiheit! Mein Gott, ist es nicht das, wovon die meisten Menschen träumen? Insbesondere Blues war ein Vehikel zur Flucht für viele, die an das Wohlwollen der Reichen und Mächtigen gekettet waren. Ich hoffe, dass diese Platte dazu beitragen kann, den Geist der Freiheit zu erneuern … und ein wenig von der Begeisterung jener großartigen Tage, in denen jede musikalische Tür uns einen Weg aus unserer Gefangenschaft zu weisen schien, neu zu entfachen“, so der erklärte Philanthroph.

Herausragend: Das Procol Harum-Cover „The Devil Came From Kansas“ sowie die Bearbeitung des Leadbelly-Klassikers „Take This Hammer“ („…carry it to the captain“) im Titelsong. Na, und bei „Cat & The Dogtrap“ klingt dann doch noch der „Tea For The Tillerman“ an. Also dürfte sich auch die eingangs vermutete Enttäuschung als gegenstandslos erweisen.

[amusio.com, 28. Okt. 2014]

Yusuf Islam: in the shadow of Cat Stevens

YUSUF Islam has a new book out in the Middle East called

Why I Still Carry a Guitar: The Spiritual Journey of Cat Stevens

to Yusuf. In it he explains his conversion to Islam in 1977

and how that has shaped his life to the present day.

It’s a tome the Dubai-based artist known as Yusuf hopes will be published worldwide next year, which should help shed some light on the true nature of the Cat. Being misunderstood has been a constant in the singer’s life, he says, since he abandoned his flourishing career as a singer-songwriter in the 1970s to concentrate on his faith and direct his efforts towards humanitarian ­issues.

To that end today Yusuf, who has been enjoying a music renaissance during the past eight years, maintains a page on his website called “Chinese Whiskers”, on which he elucidates, sometimes in great detail, those issues where he feels his beliefs and motivations have been misinterpreted or misrepresented in the media since 1978. One can click on “Didn’t He Support Hamas?”, for example, and get his express denial first hand; or select “What About 9/11 and terrorism?” for an equally stout rebuttal of any such sympathies. Those more interested in his musical opinions can opt for “Does Pop Music Make Sense to Him Any More?” and “Does Yusuf Feel He Can Help the World by Getting His Message Across Through Music?”

You can sense that same frustration, albeit tinged with humour, on Editing Floor Blues from his surprisingly bluesy new album Tell ’Em I’m Gone, which is released on October 31. On it Yusuf sings of his youth growing up in London’s West End, but also about what happened later “when the word came down” and “when the truth was buried on the editing room floor”.

“It’s a take on my experience with the media,” he says, mischievously questioning whether this information will appear correctly in this newspaper. “It’s about being misunderstood oftentimes. Not always on purpose, but in the middle of what is said and what is heard and what is conveyed there is a whole lot of space there for people to get it wrong, not always intentionally. It’s what I call Chinese whiskers. I love having a laugh about it.”

Publicity for this new album, his first since 2009’s Roadsinger, bills him as Cat Stevens/Yusuf. It is clear from talking to him and from the content of the record that he inhabits both of those identities. While original tracks such as I was Raised in Babylon and Cat and the Dog Trap have a philosophical bent, largely Tell ’Em I’m Gone is a journey back to Cat Stevens’s musical roots, to that period in the early 60s when he was finding his way, looking for a niche in the blossoming pop, rock and blues scene in London. The album includes a handful of cover versions, including Jimmy Reed’s Big Boss Man, Procol Harum’s The Devil Came From Kansas and Edgar Winter’s Dying to Live. The blues agenda is underpinned by the presence of guests including harmonica player Charlie Musselwhite, guitarist Richard Thompson and the Malian desert blues outfit Tinariwen.

Shaping the sounds on Tell ’Em I’m Gone is renowned American producer Rick Rubin, whose recent credits include Lady Gaga, Ed Sheeran and our own Angus and Julia Stone. Yusuf says he turned to Rubin because he wasn’t entirely happy with his own production of Roadsinger.

“I was looking for a little bit of an upgrade on my production,” he says. “My last record I produced and I think I realised that I needed someone to help me out a little bit. Rick has always been an incredible force. As a producer he is one of the best. He really accommodated my ideas and he put together a great team of musicians that gave a sound to the album.”

Yusuf, born Steven Demetre Georgiou to a Greek father and Swedish mother in 1948, grew up in the bustling streets of London’s theatre district and got his earliest music education standing on the rooftop of the family home above their restaurant listening to the show tunes drifting across the night sky. Later, in his teens and early 20s, his skills as a songwriter and performer began to develop in local coffee houses. After being discovered in the mid-60s, hits such as I Love My Dog, Matthew and Son and I’m Gonna Get Me a Gun, melodramatic pop songs all, gave him his first wave of success.

The tone of the album is designed deliber­ately to reflect that phase of his musical development, not least the presence of the blues, which had such a profound influence on artists such as the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, the Yardbirds and many more.

“That’s the intention,” Yusuf says. “Being a fan of 60s R&B and being there at that time … there was always something new and always a turn that we didn’t expect. That’s partly been lost to some degree in the blur of technology and production that we have today, not that everything works that way. Back then everything worked.”

Procol Harum has significance to him because the band’s drummer BJ Wilson, also a session player, performed on some of Stevens’s early hits. “That’s when I was hanging out with Hendrix and those kinds of people,” Yusuf drops nonchalantly. “They are one of my favourite all-time bands. Suddenly in comes Whiter Shade of Pale and it’s huge. But I loved that band because they were so innovative. There was a lot of blues if you listen to (singer-keyboards player) Gary Brooker, so there’s a kind of homecoming for me in that song.”

The blues groove base to another cover, the smouldering reading of the classic You are My Sunshine, owes a debt to another of Yusuf’s music heroes and inspirations, Ray Charles. “He played the blues that we all love,” he says.

Musically there’s little trace on Tell ’Em I’m Gone of the 70s Cat Stevens, the singer-songwriter who became a world phenomenon with albums Tea for the Tillerman, Teaser and the Firecat and Catch Bull at Four, but there are nods to the themes of peace and love that were prevalent in that phase of his career.

The opening I was Raised in Babylon is about “looking back at civilisations”, he says. “It’s an interesting subject. Everybody believes that the civilisation they are living in is the best. It’s not really much different in some ways to previous civilisations. There are great developments and inventions, and then suddenly it all goes wrong. The plug of history gets pulled. And then everybody starts falling down the drain. I was reading that one of the last things to disappear in a civilisation is music. I’m trying to bring a bit more civilisation back into the music business.”

Yusuf’s last venture in Australia was the mus­ical Moonshadow, a story of his life in song that received mixed reviews.

“It’s a beginning,” he says, “because no matter how much you write it and you do it, it ends up on stage, and that’s the only place you really learn about what you’ve got. I found the experience invaluable. From that I’ve learned so much.”

Yusuf will be doing that with his album and on tour. He begins a European tour next month that will be followed by an extensive jaunt around the US. He’s hoping to come to Australia too, but no dates have been set. “We’d love to bring it to Australia,” he says. “I have relations in Australia so I always feel very at home there.”

Yusuf says his album is about setting the soul free. He has been able to set free his inner guitar hero to some degree on Tell ’Em I’m Gone as well. He plays more electric guitar on the album than he has done on any record previously.

“I’m playing rhythm with a heavy drive,” he says. “Not quite the Who level but getting close.” That comment also takes him back to those glory days of Cat Stevens, again with good humour attached. “I was once a support act for the Who,” he recalls. “They were one of the first bands with a real punk attitude.” That’s not something one might think he would warm to, but with Tell ’Em I’m Gone he comes closer to it than at any point in his career.

Tell ’Em I’m Gone is released through Sony on October 31.

[theaustralian.com.au, 25. Okt. 2014]

Yusufs neues Album "Tell 'Em I'm Gone": Oden an die Freiheit

Mit dem Album "Tell ’Em I’m Gone" kehrt Yusuf,

der sich einst Cat Stevens nannte,

zu seiner ersten Musikliebe zurück – dem Blues.

Der Schlüssel zu Yusufs neuer Platte "Tell ’Em I’m Gone" heißt "Editing Floor Blues". Der Songtitel ist ein Signal. Der Mann, der als Cat Stevens in den Siebzigern mit Hits wie "Moon Shadow", "Wild World" oder "Father And Son" zum Inbegriff des soften Folk-Rocks geworden ist, hat die Richtung gewechselt und sich im 47. Jahr seiner Karriere erstmals dem Blues gewidmet. Der autobiographische Text des Liedes erklärt dann, warum diese Wendung aus Sicht des mittlerweile 66-jährigen Sängers nicht überraschend ist. Denn eigentlich hat Yusuf schon immer den Blues gehabt. Aber wer an den Kreuzungen seines Lebens falsch abbiegt, findet sich schnell auf Irrwegen wieder. In Yusufs Fall waren sie mit Gold gepflastert. Glücklich hat ihn das nicht gemacht. Am Ende hat ihn seine Reise über manchen Umweg aber doch zum Ziel geführt. Als Mensch, durch seine Hinwendung zum Islam. Und nun auch als Musiker.

Der Editing Floor ist der Fußboden des Schneideraums. Eigentlich ein Begriff aus dem Filmgeschäft, aber auch eine schöne Metapher für das Pop-Business. Egal, was ein Musiker auf Band aufgenommen hat: Wer die Schere hat, entscheidet, was veröffentlicht wird – und was abgeschnitten als Abfall auf dem Fußboden landet.

"Als ich anfing, Platten zu machen, ging ich durch eine Phase, in der andere Leute meine Musik bestimmten", sagt Yusuf. "Schon als Teenager habe ich Rhythm and Blues gehört, die kleinen Scheiben aus schwarzem Plastik aus den USA haben mich beeinflusst: Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry". Doch als die Beatles kamen, wie es im Song heißt, trimmten findige Geschäftsleute den jungen Cat aus dem Londoner West End auf Pop. Nachdem der Anfangserfolg verebbt war, schrieb Stevens auf seiner heute legendären schwarzen Akustik-Gitarre die Folksongs, die ihn von 1970 an berühmt machten. Der Blues blieb dabei auf der Strecke. Bis jetzt.

"‚Tell ’Em I’m Gone‘ steht dafür, deinen eigenen Weg zu finden, der dir entspricht und angenehmer ist, als von anderen einen Stempel aufgedrückt zu bekommen", sagt Yusuf über das neue Album. Etwaige Zweifel, ob er für den Blues der Richtige ist, verfliegen beim Hören sofort. Blues im Yusuf’schen Sinne ist ein Synonym für Schmerz und Erlösung, für Hoffnung selbst in schweren Zeiten und das ewige Streben der Unterdrückten nach dem höchsten aller Güter: der Freiheit. Und einer wie er, der selbst lange auf der Suche nach innerem Frieden war, kann all das spielend in seine Songs legen. Und weil Blues hier eben nicht generell für ein Genre, sondern für ein Gefühl steht, sind unter den fünf eigenen und fünf fremden Kompositionen auch Edgar Winters Pianoballade "Dying to Live" und Procol Harums Rockklassiker "The Devil Came From Kansas".

Bei den eigentlichen Blues-Stücken orientieren sich Yusufs Gesang und der Sound gerne mal an Eric Clapton. Besonders bei Luther Dixons viel gecovertem Standard "Big Boss Man" ist das offensichtlich. Yusufs immer noch klare und trotzdem kraftvolle Stimme wird von souligem Chorgesang umspielt und in ein poliertes Arrangement eingebettet. Ähnlich funktioniert "You Are My Sunshine", am bekanntesten in der swingend-beseelten Version von Ray Charles – harmonischer Blues, der keinen verschreckt.

Yusufs eigenes Lied "I Was Raised in Babylon" dagegen ist ein spartanischer, bedrohlicher Folk-Blues über den Hochmut der Menschheit in bester Storyteller-Manier. Der Song gehört zu den Höhepunkten eines durch und durch starken Albums, das zum größten Teil Rick Rubin produziert hat. Der 51-jährige Amerikaner bringt gleich beide Fähigkeiten ein, die ihm die fast schon mystische Aura eines Legendenflüsterers und Pop-Schamanen verliehen haben: Erneut führt er einen Star im letzten Abschnitt seiner Karriere zu neuen Höhen – und wieder einmal schafft er dafür ein Klangbild, in dem jedes einzelne Instrument ungeheuer druckvoll klingt und gleichzeitig so viel Raum bleibt, dass die Songs atmen und ihre Wirkung entfalten können.

Schlagzeug und Perkussion sind oft sehr zurückgenommen, andere Instrumente setzt Rubin dosiert und gleichzeitig pointiert ein. Wunderbare Begleiter tragen ihren Teil dazu bei, dass das Konzept aufgeht und die Musiker größtenteils live im Studio eingespielt werden konnte. Dazu zählt zum Beispiel Charlie Musslewhite, selbst eine Legende des Blues, der den "Big Boss Man" und den "Editing Floor Blues" mit seinem unvergleichlichen Harmonikaspiel veredelt. Richard Thompson, ein Gründervater des britischen Folkrocks und Weggefährte, zupft bei "I Was Raised in Babylon" die stählern vibrierende, wehmütige Akustikgitarre.

Über allem schwebt Yusuf fester Glaube, dass Musik eine Kraft ist, die Veränderung bewirken und Hoffnung geben kann, gerade in kriegerischen Zeiten wie diesen. Dass man eine Botschaft haben kann und trotzdem kein naiver Utopist sein muss, spiegelt das Motto seiner anstehenden Tour. Es lautet, angelehnt an den Hit von 1971: "Peace Train... Late Again". Der Frieden, er lässt mal wieder immer auf sich warten. Yusuf desillusioniert das nicht, es spornt ihn eher an. Er mag am Ziel angekommen sein. Sein Weg aber ist noch nicht zu Ende.

[badische-zeitung.de, 25. Okt. 2014]

Tell 'Em I'm Gone:

A Conversation With Yusuf Islam

Yusuf, let's talk about your new album Tell 'Em I'm Gone. It seems like you're saying something larger with it overall.

Yeah, I'd say I'm setting myself free in a way, to make the kind of music and sing the kind of songs I was influenced by, especially in my young teenage years. We used to listen to R&B records in the clubs, that was what really drove me into music. And so many bands like The Beatles and The Stones were all getting off on the same thing.

I guess it was an education in American music?

If you look back at Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly, you would see that their inspiration was coming from the same place.

And you give those musical hints in some of the production of the songs on Tell 'Em I'm Gone. This project has some of the bluesiest music I've ever heard you record.

I kind of explored this a little bit when I did Roadsinger, my last album. I did a version of "Peace Train" called "Peace Train Blues" and it was that that sort of set me on my course. I said, "Wow, I sound pretty good in this genre!" I think I've got enough experience and grit in my voice that it makes it real. It kind of works now for some reason. It doesn't mean I'm going to live here forever in this genre but it does mean that I'm able to do things that I enjoy, and I do love the blues.

And it seems that Tinariwen helped you convey that.

Tinariwen has an interesting African link to the blues. A lot of African slaves came from that part of the world and were shipped over to America, so that's where it kind of began. It wasn't just the delta.

Right. And I imagine working with Rick Rubin helped you bring out these connections as well.

I might have made a more faithful rendition of some of those songs if it wasn't for Rick. He helped me expand my musical imagination a little bit more and make it much more personal. When we started talking about ideas, Tinariwen was my son's idea and then we both clicked on it and said, "Yeah, that's the root we should follow." He was really good in being able to make me think further.

Rick seems to interject that little bug in an artist's ear.

Yeah, absolutely. He's a master producer.

Yusuf, is "I Was Raised In Babylon" based on personal experience?

I think maybe it has to do with what was going on in Iraq, that may have brought to mind the memory of Babylon. Then I started looking at other civilizations because there was one of the cradles of human civilization. I started looking at it from that angle and as I started writing this I realized I was making a critique of civilization. That was basically what was happening. I started to look at the disconnect between divine guidance and civilization. When a civilization becomes a superpower it kind of loses touch with the divine. That's what happened in Babylon. Abraham was sent to Babylon and then you've got Egypt, the next one, where Moses was sent. Then you have the holy land with Jesus and then the last prophet Muhammed was sent to--Well, I won't actually say any particular place because the Islamic empire was actually quite big in those days. So I kind of critique the way in which sometimes a civilization goes off the track.

And there's "Big Boss Man" that's got the sentiment, the flavor of what you were doing years ago with "Matthew And Son."

Yeah, that's right. Again, it's looking at how people allow themselves to become slaves to their masters and all the kings and presidents who come along and become in a way lords over the earth. That's really where prophethood becomes so important, because they break that allegiance to make sure that people remember that the first thing to do is remember the real superpower. The theme for the album was really that it came out of the blues, it's a way of escaping the predicaments that we find ourselves in, chained to our situations, sometimes to our cultures, sometimes to our technology, sometimes to our wives--I don't know, maybe that's a joke. It means we are forever in a state of wanting ultimate freedom to fly. That's it. But you're not an angel, we're not angels, so perhaps we'd better live with this.

You also point out one of the things that seems to crumble in these oligarchies is the truth. "Editing Floor Blues" tells that story using the setting of a recording studio to make the point.

Yeah. I love the way in which "Socrates" rhymes with "Greece," or the way I make it rhyme, anyway. It was a point where the truth was not palatable for those who were in power and therefore he had to swallow his own poison, which was extremely sad, but at the same time he left a model of someone who took another view. He suffered through it, but he's a man to be remembered.

Looking at your catalog and the way it's changed over the years, what do you feel is the major evolution for you as an artist between this album and the previous ones?

I think I took my lead from The Beatles. One of the things we loved about them was that every record was an innovation and a higher plateau for us to try and reach and enjoy. It was that that I think made me always want to improve and excel with every record and try something slightly different. When I did my records at one point I was fearful of becoming a little bit of a clone of myself. When people start sounding exactly like themself you don't know where it begins and where it ends. I wanted to avoid that. That happened with Catch Bull At Four particularly. Then I took an excursion to Kingston, Jamaica and I made a thing called Foreigner. I've always been hesitant and careful and cautious about not just following the same old track.

What advice do you have for new artists?

Wow, that's difficult. Certain movements were created because of the pressures which the music business puts you under. Therefore you have a thing called grunge, you have punk, and then you have the opposite, where everyone conforms to the sound of the day and sound like each other. To me, it's to do with digging down and finding out who you are and how best you can represent your unique view of this universe. That's the way I see it. Not just copying what others do.

Nice answer. You were inducted into the Rock 'N' Roll Hall Of Fame this year. How did you react when you found out?

I really didn't expect it. I thought it was going to be another one of those nominations that never amounted to anything, but it happened. I think it was a kind of a "Welcome Home" thing. Maybe because I've been making records again, people said, "Hey, you know, he's taken one step, let's take another." I don't know, something like that.

And maybe an appreciation for the work you've done over the years?

Yeah, I think it was that. I think I've played my part in the story of

rock 'n' roll although I haven't conformed. That's the best part of rock 'n' roll...you don't quite conform. That's what makes great new art. By the way, we are doing a tour now and it's a way of saying thank you to the fans as well.

It's going to be through North America?

Yep, we're starting in Toronto I think and moving on from there, to Philly and Boston, that way around, I think.

Yusuf, I have one more thing to ask. A long time ago, you and Warren Beatty were two of the names that came up when people talked about Carly Simon's mysterious "You're So Vain." What's your theory on who that song is about?

My theory is she keeps people guessing so people keep listening to that record. I think she's an amazing woman and a great songstress. I think one was about me and I wrote one about her and that was no secret, but this one she's kept a secret to keep it alive.

[huffingtonpost.com, 27. Okt. 2014]

Yusuf Islam - Tell 'Em I'm Gone

Das größte Rätsel der Musikgeschichte meldet sich mal wieder zu Wort: Yusuf, aka Cat Stevens. Sein neues Album "Tell 'Em I'm Gone" ist, das steht fest, das Beste, seit seinem Comeback im Jahr 2006.
Er kam nach 28 Jahren selbstauferlegter Pause als ein anderer zurück. Nicht nur, weil er zum Islam konvertierte und sich seitdem Yusuf Islam nennt und den guten, alten Cat Stevens ausrangiert hat. Er zeigte sich auf "Another Cup", seiner Comeback-CD vor acht Jahren, auch musikalisch verändert. Kein Wunder. Eine so lange Pause. Eine so große persönliche Veränderung. Man rätselte über den genialen Songschmied von so großartigen Song-Evergreens wie "The First Cut Is The Deepest", "Moonshadow" oder "Lady D'Arbanville": Ist er noch ein Mensch oder schon ein mystisches Wesen? "Tell 'Em I'm Gone" gibt endlich die ersehnte Antwort: Steven Demetre Georgiou, wie Yusuf/Cat Stevens laut Geburtsurkunde heißt, ist immer noch ein Mensch aus Fleisch und Blut.

So viel Bodenständigkeit wie er auf seinem neuen Album präsentiert, hätte man allerdings nicht erwartet. Denn auf dem von ihm gemeinsam mit Rick Rubin produzierten Album huldigt der graubärtige Sänger und Songschreiber erstaunlicherweise dem Blues und dem R&B, den Wurzeln und Roots von Pop und Rock. Das Ergebnis sind zehn grandiose Songs und Interpretationen, die man immer wieder hören kann. Nicht, weil die Arrangements so viele versteckte Feinheiten zu bieten hätten. Sondern weil die Musik durch seltene Wärme besticht.

Es ist schon erstaunlich, dass fast 50 Jahre ins Land ziehen müssen, bis dieses Phantom von Künstler so ein Album präsentiert. Dabei, so schreibt er in den Liner-Notes, habe er sich schon als Teenager vom R&B angezogen gefühlt, von Künstlern wie Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, Howlin' Wolf und Jimmy Reed. Gleiches kann auch Eric Clapton von sich behaupten. Nur, dass sich der schon früh aufgemacht hat, musikalisch in die Fußstapfen dieser Roots-Künstler zu treten. Nun macht es Yusuf - und klingt dabei nicht selten wie der erwähnte Eric Clapton. Man nehme nur die Luther Dixon/Al Smith-Komposition "Big Boss Man". Ein rabenschwarzer Blues, mit der exzellenten Harp von Charlie Musselwhite, mit Feeling - aber eben mit dem gewissen Brit-Blues-Feeling, das Eric Clapton seit jeher auszeichnet.

Dass Yusuf imstande ist, einen dieser vielen Klassiker des 12-Takt-Schemas kompetent zu interpretieren, ist nicht verwunderlich. Dass er es aber drauf hat, selbst den einen oder andern Song-Meilenstein in diesem Genre zu setzen, ist noch mal etwas anderes. Er hat es drauf. Und wie. Man nehme nur das finale "Doors". Ein Blues mit Gospel-Orgel. Die wummert sicher nicht zufällig, denn Islam & Gospel - das sollte sich eigentlich ausgrenzen. Vermutlich geht's ihm darum: weg mit den Klischees, weg mit den Grenzen, weg mit den verschlossenen Türen. "Doors" gehört zu den Glanzlichtern dieser durchweg exzellenten CD, vielleicht sogar zu den Glanzlichtern in der gesamten Karriere von Yusuf Islam/Cat Stevens.

Welch prächtigen Blues-Sänger die britische Songwriter-Legende abgibt, beweist er auch in dem Edgar-Winter-Track "Dying to Live". Begleitet nur von Akustik-Gitarre, Keyboard und Bass gibt er eine höchst emotionale Performance, veredelt er subtil die einst von Winter edel geschmiedeten, todtraurigen Textzeilen. Purer Blues, wie man ihn aber nur selten zu Gehör bekommt.
Auch bei den weiteren Cover-Versionen überrascht und verzückt Yusuf. So holt er mit "The Devil Came From Kansas" den 1969 erschienenen Procol Harum-Rocker aus der Song-Mottenkiste, um ihn zu entstauben, um ihn mit neuem Schwung und neuen Sounds aufzuladen und ihn gemeinsam mit Begleitern wie Americana-Liebling Bonny "Prince" Billy in neue Song-Höhen steigen zu lassen.

Gestern und Heute ist auch das Thema bei dem neu arrangierten, jetzt zum Titelsong umfunktionierten Traditional "Tell 'Em I'm Gone". Wieder sind Bonnie "Prince" Billy und Gitarrist Matt Weeney mit von der Partie, wieder ergeben Roots und Rock, erdiger Blues und pure Magie eine unwiderstehliche Mixtur ab. Eine in Arabisch gesungene Textzeile schlägt überdies die Genre-Brücke zur World Music.
Weitere Yusuf-Originale - wie "I Was Raised In Babylon" und "Editing Floor Blues" - erfüllen ebenfalls die höchsten Qualitätskriterien.

Eine Meisterleistung!

Fazit:

Ob Cat Stevens oder Yusuf Islam - der Mann macht einfach klasse Musik. Für das bluesige "Tell ´Em I’m Gone" gilt das mehr denn je.

Ein absoluter Volltreffer!

[countrymusicnews.de, 30. Okt. 2014]

Yusuf/Cat Stevens makes a bid for

musical freedom with upbeat new record

Tell ‘Em I’m Gone

HE was Cat Stevens. Then he was Yusuf Islam.

Now he is Yusuf/Cat Stevens for the release of

Tell ‘Em I’m Gone,

his first new studio record in five years.

A surprising collection of happy and upbeat blues tunes signals that Yusuf, as he prefers to be called, is delighted to be engaging with his audience and the wider world again.

Now based in Dubai, the British singer songwriter who became globally successful with ‘70s folk anthems including Peace Train, Wild World and Father and Son, decided to embrace the American blues and r&b music that inspired him as a teenager.

Half covers and half new songs, fans would spot the return of his mischievous cat motif on the record, a recurring metaphor for his own misunderstood character.

Cat And The Dog Trap is a veiled narrative of the trials of his own life since converting to Islam in 1978.

But even more than that, it seems Yusuf always felt on the fringe.

“You’re absolutely right; I do a little bit of lampooning in a way of my own life and it’s OK, it’s fun,” he says.

“That song is a metaphor for my life. Cats are lonely creatures, you know, and sometimes they are not treated that well.

You see a lot of them starving on the streets and those that are cared for live in luxury. But not every cat has that life.”

Yusuf has enjoyed a creative renaissance in the past decade after quitting music to focus on his faith and humanitarian efforts.

He was welcomed back into the bosom of his peers - and the US after being controversially denied entry to America in 2004 on “national security grounds” - when inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame earlier this year.

Tell ‘Em I’m Gone, produced by music guru Rick Rubin, seems in part to be a sonic bid for acceptance from his covers of You Are My Sunshine, Dying To Live and The Devil Came From Kansas interspersed with his own compositions including Editing Floor Blues.

In short, Yusuf is tired of being misunderstood, most infamously when statements he made in 1989 were misinterpreted as endorsing a fatwa made against author Salman Rushdie after he published The Satanic Verses.

When he finished the album and listened back, he said the album revealed a prevailing theme of freedom.

And he was frustrated that he has remained chained to the media’s perceptions of him in the decades after his conversion to Islam.

“I think my whole experience with the media over the years is that I haven’t been a totally welcome guest at that party. Sometimes I feel alone in the corner and everybody else is talking among themselves. I get left out,” he says.

“Or if I am included, it will be something that’s a bit acrimonious and that’s not been fun.

It’s easy (to target me) because here’s the hippie recluse singer songwriter who became a Muslim and therefore becomes an object of ridicule for many people who possibly didn’t listen to my lyrics closely enough."

“If you had, for sure I had major ambitions in the spiritual realm … but that apart, I think there’s a lot more I can say today.

“I have written a lot of these songs in a way to indicate where my mind is and how I want to be understood and that in a way, is a claim to freedom. It is a freedom every artist has when he picks up a pen.”

His underlying artistic intentions may be serious but Yusuf not only imbues the performance of the songs with upbeat energy but plenty of wry humour.

He jokes that the equally spiritually-invested Rubin was “fasting much more than I was.”

“No really, he introduced me to a very stringent diet thing that he was on, I couldn’t carry on with it. I love my pizzas in the middle of a session. Jalapeños with anything,” he says.

And the 66-year-old musician finds it endlessly amusing that he is a hipster icon.

“Yeah I notice I am in fashion now. Even football players have them which looks slightly weird. A guy who looks slightly like one of the saints kicking a ball does look weird. Men naturally grow hair on their faces, so it’s nice, even wise, that everyone is doing it,” he says.

In December, he will play his first shows in America since 1976, cheekily calling the six-concert run the Peace Train … Late Again tour.

He confirms a return visit to Australia in being planned for next year.

And he also hopes to restage his Moonshadow musical which opened in Melbourne in 2012 but closed four weeks early after mixed reviews.

Yusuf says he wants to complete the children’s book the musical will be based on before attempting to launch it back into theatres.

“That was an incredibly important learning experience because you never know what sort of show you have until you put it on stage,” he says.

“The Australian audience was incredibly honest and very receptive in some sense and I think our biggest problem is we didn’t quite communicate what this Moonshadow musical was.

Now I have started work on the children’s book with illustrations so that people will get to know the story before they see the musical. Usually it’s that way, book before musical, and I did it the wrong way around.”

Tell ‘Em I’m Gone is out now.

[news.com.au, 01. Nov. 2014]

Cat Stevens aka Yusuf:

Ein Moslem hat den Blues wieder

In den Siebzigerjahren kannte man ihn als sanften Hitfabrikanten Cat Stevens, dann bekannte er sich zum Islam

und nannte sich Yusuf. Nun feiert er den Blues und die Freiheit.

Seine Hinwendung zum Islam war spektakulär: Cat Stevens zählte zu den großen romantischen Troubadouren des Siebzigerjahre-Pop. Größtenteils weibliche Fans himmelten ihn wegen seines guten Aussehens und seiner sanften Songs an. Seine Hitserie startete er mit 21 Jahren. Mit stillen Liedern wie „Lady D'Arbanville“, „Morning Has Broken“ und „Wild World“ hatte er weltweit Erfolg. Es hätte ewig so weitergehen können, wäre er nicht 1975 bei Malibu ins Meer gestiegen. Cat Stevens geriet in eine gefährliche Strömung, in Lebensgefahr. Eine unvermutet auftauchende Welle rettete ihn. Er interpretierte sie als göttliche Fügung, wurde zu Yusuf Islam und widmete sich die nächsten Jahrzehnte ausschließlich dem muslimischen Glauben.

Nach groben Anfangsfehlern, wie dem Gutheißen der Fatwa gegen Salman Rushdie, zog es ihn bald auch auf religiösem Gebiet in ruhigere Fahrwasser. Seit vielen Jahren leitet er die Islamia Primary School in Nordwest-London, die darauf setzt, den Kids eine britisch-islamische Identität zu geben. Sie sieht sich als Antidot zur religiösen Radikalisierung in Teilen der islamischen Welt. Die Lehre des Koran und europäische Denktraditionen wie Kartesianismus und Scholastik werden hier bewusst verbunden. Vernunftgeleiteter Meinungsaustausch und intellektuelles Kräftemessen dominieren den Unterricht.

„Erlösung von den Zwängen“

Mit dem Erfolg seines Schulprojekts kamen alte musikalische Sehnsüchte hoch. 2006 lud er zur Präsentation seines Comeback-Albums „Another Cup“ in einen Nachbau seines Jugendzimmers, des rot ausgemalten Red Room. Heute braucht Yusuf diese Art von kreativer Krücke nicht mehr. Für die rau, aber edel tönenden Songs seines neuesten Werks „Tell 'Em I'm Gone“ wagte er sich in die Welt hinaus. Die Sessions fanden in New York, Los Angeles, London und Dubai statt. Im Fokus hatte er den Blues, jenen Stil, dem er sich zu Beginn der Karriere verschrieben hatte. Ein Genre, das früh schon von Strenggläubigen beargwöhnt wurde. Afroamerikanische Christen nannten den Blues bereits Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts „Devil's Music“. Um so erstaunlicher, dass sich nun ein bekennender Moslem dieser Musik annimmt.

Das überraschend starke Album „Tell 'Em I'm Gone“, ist eine gelungene Hommage an Yusufs Jugendhelden von Jimmy Reed bis Howlin' Wolf. Es ist aber auch Katapult für kraftvolle, eigene Blues-Fantasien. „Der Blues versprach in meinen jungen Jahren eine Art Erlösung von den Zwängen. Zwar nur für Minuten, aber immerhin“, sagt er, der sonst nicht zur Selbstbespiegelung tendiert. Sowohl im Leben wie in der Kunst geht es ihm um Altruismus. Das Mitmenschliche aber ist durchaus auch mit den Mitteln des Blues zu erreichen. Und so – wie öfters im freilich sehr heterogenen Gesamtwerk von Yusuf respektive Cat Stevens – steht die Idee der menschlichen Freiheit im Zentrum des neuen Albums. Musikalisch geholfen hat ihm der rauschebärtige Produzent Rick Rubin, der schon so viele Künstler – von Johnny Cash bis Black Sabbath – mit ihrer eigenen Geschichte versöhnt hat.

Die Bandbreite reicht da von existenzialistischen Szenerien, etwa der rasanten Neuinterpretation von Edgar Winters „Dying To Live“, bis hin zu konkreter Auflehnung in der Arbeitswelt wie sie im Titellied, einer Variation von „Take This Hammer“, behandelt wird. Auch das zart groovende „Gold Digger“ zelebriert das Erringen von Freiheit durch sozialen Kampf am Beispiel der südafrikanischen Anti-Apartheid-Bewegung, die ja als soziale Erhebung von Minenarbeitern begonnen hat. Die Eigenkomposition „Editing Floor Blues“ ist hingegen eine strikt subjektive Reminiszenz an den eigenen Aufbruch im Swinging London der späten Sechziger. Damals sammelte der junge Cat Stevens die Alben der Blues-Pioniere und besuchte legendäre Clubs wie den 100 Club und das Marquee in Soho, um die britischen Adepten der amerikanischen Sounds live zu sehen. Er war begeistert von den rüden Animals und Yardbirds, aber auch von den Rolling Stones und den Beatles. In „Editing Floor Blues“ erinnert er sich an seine rührenden Anfänge. Die Blues-Heroen im Kopf, aber bar eigener Lebenserfahrung, kamen ihm einst nichts als Teeniesongs über die Lippen. (Kurioserweise hatte er damit sofort Erfolg. Sein erster kleiner Hit hieß „I Love My Dog.“)

„Raised in Babylon“

In anderen Songs überschaut er kühn die Geschichte der Zivilisationen. In „I Was Raised in Babylon“ listet er zusammengebrochene Hochkulturen auf, die jeweils glaubten, sie wären die Krone der Zivilisation. „We thought our white skins would save us – then we got burned“, singt er am Ende. Diese Zeilen gelten hier zwar dem British Empire, wirken aber wie ein Menetekel. Die Brandblasen, etwa die Barbarei des IS, schmerzen heute kräftiger denn je. Was dagegen helfen kann? „Nur Bildung. Ohne sie sind die Menschen von radikalem Denken bedroht.“

[diepresse.com, 05. Nov. 2014]

'It's A Bit Of A Gift':

Yusuf Islam On His Break

And Return To Music

The story is well-known:

After making some of the most distinctive music in pop history,

the artist once known as Cat Stevens became Muslim,

changed his name and gave up performing to concentrate

on faith and philanthropy.

Now, as Yusuf Islam, he's back with a new album

called Tell 'Em I'm Gone,

and is making his first U.S. tour since 1976.

There's one especially tough song on the new album called "I Was Raised In Babylon." I'm going to infer this is the song of an Englishman, saying the world is not turning out the way we thought.

I take a scan of most civilizations in that song, beginning with Babylon and moving through to Egypt and Holy Land and even the, kind of, Islamic Empire, if you like. And every one has got something wrong with it. But, you know, the balance of all that power in one place at one time is very difficult to handle. civilization at a certain point kind of, falls through the drain hole, you know. It's a historic drain hole.

I have never heard you talk about your early days. Your parents ran the Moulin Rouge — not where Toulouse-Lautrec painted, but a restaurant in London, in the West End off Picadilly. Was there a lot of music around there?

Absolutely. I mean, we were at the center of it and, and people used to travel for miles to get to where we lived, you know. And I went to school on Drury Lane — that's the row of theaters.

Like going to school on Broadway.

Exactly. And so really, that was my education. It was all entertainment, everywhere; I mean, I thought this was natural. But then I realized that there weren't so many parks around there. And that's where, when you come to my music, a song like "Where Do The Children Play," there's a kind of harking to that issue.

You went to the hospital with tuberculosis, right?

Correct.

And it was pretty serious, I gather.

Yeah, I had one year of very exciting life in the pop business, touring with Jimi Hendrix and doing all the shows and everything that you would imagine. Worked very hard in that initial year. And then I ran myself into the ground. Suddenly you're on your back and doctors are all around you. They're sticking big needles into you, and you're taking these horse-sized tablets to get better. You realize life isn't quite as rosy as you thought it was gonna be.

I think a lot of people who do go through very shattering life experiences take another look at themselves. It's a chance, actually, to do that. It's a bit of a gift. Because who knows what would've happened if I had kept on that road, you know?

Your friend, Jimi Hendrix.

Yeah, I mean, exactly. So I think I was fortunate.

I must say, listening to this CD, your voice seems as vibrant as ever. Do you think you may have benefited by taking a few years away from the industry?

Absolutely. I mean, I don't drink. I don't smoke. And I don't do much exercise, but at the same time, I live a very healthy life, and it's definitely helped.

I gave music a break for almost 20 years. And one of the reasons for that was that I wasn't sure where it fit. I didn't see anything in the Quran saying music is forbidden, nothing like that. But there's all these interpretations and people talking and telling you and warning you, "Sex, drugs, and rock and roll and all that stuff. Get out!" And so, you know, I started a family. There was lots of logic to the steps I took. But when you're making music, somehow you get into a place where you get inspired. So there is something of inspiration which takes place, which is very valuable to the human being. And I think that that's probably why I made music. I felt inspired.

Sounds like you would've missed it in 20 years.

Yeah. But then, you know, I was singing about, "Where do the children play?" Guess what? I started a school with a big, big playground, so there you go. It's kind of like walking the talk. That's what I tried to do, and I think that it's not because other people are watching me. It's because I'm looking at myself, and I'd like to make sure I conform to my ideal as much as possible. That's all.

[npr.org, 01. Nov. 2014]

Cat Stevens alias Yusuf Islam: «Tell 'em I'm Gone»

Der Weg der Umkehr

1977 bekehrte sich Cat Stevens zum Islam.

Gab er sich als Yusuf Islam zuerst fundamentalistisch,

vertritt er unterdessen den Sufismus.

Und schafft wieder neue Musik:

Eben ist das Album «Tell 'em I'm Gone» erschienen.

Yusuf Islams Konversion ist beispielhaft für den spirituellen Weg diverser Pop-Legenden.

Als Paulus von Tarsus auf seinem Weg nach Damaskus war, da widerfuhr ihm, im Sturz von seinem Pferd, eine derart gleissende Christus-Vision, dass er sich schlagartig vom Christenverfolger zum Apostel kehrte. Selbst wenn der Religionsphilosoph William James diese Szene als Anfall eines Epileptikers deutet: Mit seiner Wandlung vom Saulus zum Paulus wurde der Mann quasi zu einem Star der christlichen Welt. Heute, da das «Damaskus-Erlebnis» jede grundstürzende Erfahrung einer Umwandlung vom «Saulus zum Paulus» meint, kann es auch in hagiografischen Darstellungen mancher Pop-Legenden eine Rolle spielen, was darauf hinweist, wie treffend die Lebenswege und auch das Liedgut eines Cat Stevens, Bob Dylan oder Leonard Cohen als Ausdruck einer musikalischen Reise und einer spirituellen Suchbewegung beschrieben werden können.

Errettung

Yusuf Islam, als Steven Demetre Georgiou in London geboren, verkaufte unter seinem Künstlernamen Cat Stevens rund 50 Millionen Platten – zu nennen vor allem «Tea For The Tillerman» (1970) und «Teaser And The Firecat» (1971). Im Jahre 1977, als der Sänger beim Baden im Pazifik dank einer Welle im letzten Augenblick vor dem Ertrinken errettet wurde und ein Koran aus der Hand seines Bruders ihm die Augen dafür öffnete, wem er sein Überleben verdanke, bekehrte sich der Softrocker über Nacht zum Islam. Seine Gitarren-Sammlung liess er bei Sotheby's versteigern – einer Weisung des islamischen Rechtsgelehrten al-Ghazali aus dem Jahre 1111 folgend, wonach jeder von Saiteninstrumenten untermalten Musik schlechthin abzuschwören sei. Yusuf gab sein berauschendes Leben auf und gründete stattdessen in Swinging London Koranschulen für Mädchen, nahm statt Liedern nun Koranrezitationen auf, pilgerte statt nach Kathmandu nach Mekka. Selbst die Fatwa gegen Salman Rushdie und seine «Satanischen Verse» soll er in der ersten, heißen Phase seiner Bekehrung unterstützt haben. Yusuf Islam ließ den Verkauf seiner Lieder aber nicht verbieten, schienen sie ihm doch Ausdruck einer bereits begonnenen spirituellen Reise zwischen Hippie-Sehnsuchtsraum, Allen Watts' Tao und Timothy Learys LSD-Trips. So heisst es in «The Wind»: «Ich höre auf den Wind, den Wind meiner Seele, wohin er mich treibt, das weiss Gott allein.» Vielleicht macht gerade das den unverwechselbaren Cat-Stevens-Sound aus: das Gefühl, auf einer Pilgerreise zu sich selbst zu sein, wie es sich auch im Song «On The Road To Find Out» andeutet.

Sein «Damaskus-Erlebnis» auf dem Hippie-Trail hatte auch der Cat-Stevens-Biograf Paul-Gerhard Hübsch. Ehemals Mitglied der legendären Kommune eins in Berlin, war dieser ein ausgewiesener «Acidhead», ehe er 1969 in der marokkanischen Wüste auf dem Weg nach Marrakesch unvermittelt auf die Knie fiel, die Hände gen Himmel reckte und ausrief: «Oh, Allah, bitte reinige mich», um nach einer Irrfahrt durch spanische Arrestzellen und Irrenhäuser endlich zum Islam zu konvertieren und sich fortan «Hadayatullah» zu nennen – der von Gott Geleitete. Hübsch wurde Imam in der Nuur-Moschee in Frankfurt am Main, gründete den linksalternativen Club Voltaire, verfasste zahlreiche Musikerbiografien und schaffte es, in seiner experimentellen Lyrik den Expressionismus mit der mystischen Poesie Persiens zu verschmelzen. Die Konversion als «Sprung in den Glauben» (Albert Camus) muss nicht «Hirnwäsche»-Effekte haben, die den Islam in Hasspredigten umschlagen lassen und den «Jihad» – eigentlich die Überwindung des eigenen Egos – als Rechtfertigung ins Feld führen, äussere Feinde zu töten.

Doch um hier nicht dem verbreiteten Kurzschluss zwischen Islam und Gewalt Vorschub zu leisten: Das Phänomen der Konversion betrifft erstens nicht nur zornige Jungmänner und ihre «Gottsucherbanden» (Bazon Brock), es gibt auch den Kippeffekt «From babe to burka»: Kristiane Backer, zu Beginn der 1990er Jahre als eine der ersten MTV-Moderatorinnen an der Londoner Front der Populärkultur, beschreibt nach ihrer Islam-Konversion in Pakistan im Jahre 1995 in ihren Lebenserinnerungen «From MTV to Mecca», wie vollkommen unfähig die dekadente Glamour-Welt von einst gewesen sei, ihrem Leben einen Sinn zu verleihen: «Ich dachte, wonach ich mich sehnte, sei die Liebe eines Mannes; aber es war die Liebe Gottes.»

Das Phänomen der Konversion gibt es zweitens nicht nur im Islam, die Tendenz frisch Konvertierter zum Fundamentalismus ist nicht nur eine Versuchung innerhalb der islamischen Geisteswelt. Bob Dylan etwa begann Gospel zu singen, als er Jesus Christus als seinen Messias akzeptierte. Auch sein Werk ist von der Figur des Reisenden durchzogen, der beides zugleich ist: Streuner und Pilger, wie der Theologe Knut Wenzel in seinem Buch «HoboPilgrim – Bob Dylans Reise durch die Nacht» (2011) nachgezeichnet hat. Dylan ist immer jemand gewesen, der «an die Himmelspforte klopfte», doch hat er es mit seinen mannigfaltigen spirituellen Impulsen auch eher wie der Heilige Geist selbst gehalten und geweht, wo er wollte. Nach seiner Zeit als politischer Protestsänger in der Bürgerrechtsbewegung wandelte er sich zur Rock-Sphinx, deren vielleicht verblüffendste Volte darin bestand, sich 1978 den evangelikalen Christen zuzuwenden. Was sich schon auf dem Album «Slow Train Coming» von 1978 andeutete, trat ein Jahr später offen zutage: Von einem dreimonatigen Bibelkurs unter wiedergeborenen Christen «geflasht», gleicht Dylans Rhetorik auf der Platte «Saved» dem baptistischen Erweckungsprediger, der im Gospel seine Inspiration findet. «Ich wurde gerettet / durch das Blut des Lamms. / Gerettet / durch das Blut des Lamms. /Gerettet. Gerettet. / Und ich bin so froh. / Ja, ich bin so froh.»

Verlorene Söhne

Dylans messianische Phase währte nur kurz. Auf dem Cover von «Infidels» (1983) sieht man ihn auf dem Ölberg in Jerusalem, offenbar entdeckt er sein Judentum wieder; bei der Bar-Mitzwa-Feier seines Sohnes im selben Jahr tritt er mit Kippa und Gebetsschal in Erscheinung. Damit liesse er sich, wie auch der Leonard Cohen der 1980er Jahre, zu den «Teschuva» zählen – jenen verlorenen Söhnen des jüdischen Stammes, die sich nach einem Leben in Ruhm und Hochmut demütig auf die Religion ihrer Väter zurückbesinnen und bereuen wollen: «Shame thickened the faculties of the heart», heisst es entsprechend in Cohens modernem Psalmenbuch «Book Of Mercy» von 1985.

Die Ironie der Konvertiten-Geschichte will es, dass David Gordon, ebenjener ältere Bruder von Cat Stevens, der ihm nach einer Jerusalem-Reise den Koran verehrte, selbst fast zeitgleich zum Judentum konvertiert ist. Dem es ja ebenfalls genau darauf ankommt: gehorsam das Joch der Tora zu übernehmen und mit hoher Selbstdisziplin die Mitzwot zu befolgen – jene Alltagsregeln, denen allein in den abrahamitischen Religionen die Kraft zugetraut wird, den Menschen von sich selbst zu befreien. Vielleicht müsste man sich einmal selbst der Strahlkraft dieses Heilsversprechens aussetzen – einer Rückkehr von der dekadenten Pop-Moderne auf den «geraden» Weg einer Orthodoxie; oder der Faszination eines streng monotheistischen Gottesbildes, welches das Judentum in die Welt gesetzt hat (anders als das Christentum mit seiner Trinität); ein Gottesbild, welches der Koran mit Attributen nicht nur der Macht, sondern vor allem auch der Schönheit versieht.

Sufismus statt Fundamentalismus

So könnte man ihn besser verstehen lernen, diesen «Mann, der einmal Cat Stevens war», der heute kein Hardliner mehr ist, sondern sich der mystischen Strömung des Sufismus zugewandt hat. Jahr für Jahr besuchte Yusuf auf Zypern den jüngst verstorbenen Nazım Kıbrısi, einen Grossmeister des Sufismus, genau jener mystischen Strömung innerhalb des Islam, welche in der Musik – vor allem natürlich in der berühmten Gestalt der tanzenden Derwische – den Königsweg zu Gott sieht. Nun ist Yusuf, um es mit einem Cohen-Titel zu sagen, zurück auf der «Boogie Street». Mit seiner ersten Solo-Platte, «An Other Cup» (2006), war es nicht eine weitere Tasse, vielmehr eine andere Tasse Tee, die er seinem Publikum hat reichen wollen. «Roadsinger» (2009) spielte wieder mit dem Motiv des Windes, der weht, wo er will, und dabei dem fahrenden Sänger um die Ohren weht, der stets aufbrechen oder heimkehren will. Der Künstler sagt selbst: «Es hat alles mit dem Motiv der Reise zu tun. Denn es gibt nur zwei Arten von Geschichten: die einen über das Weggehen von zu Hause, die anderen über das Zurückkehren nach Hause.»

Die neue Platte «Tell 'em I'm Gone» nun rekurriert in einer Mischung aus Originalsongs und Coverversionen auf die vielleicht gewaltigste Unterströmung der amerikanischen Folkmusik: den Gospel, den Blues. Das Lied «I Was Raised In Babylon» erinnert an einen von Leonard Cohens jüngsten Songs, «Born In Chains», womit die gottsuchenden Sänger auf ihr Ziel verweisen: Wir sind im Exil, aber es gibt noch einen Ausweg; wir sind zwar verlorene Söhne, aber wir können uns noch unserer göttlichen Abkunft erinnern. In den Liedern, die Yusuf heute anstimmt, liegt – Gott sei Dank! – noch immer jenes Charisma des Träumerischen, der Schmelz des Sehnsuchtsvollen, ja Unvollendet-Traurigen. Die Heimkehr zum Islam erweist sich also doch als nichts weiter als der Aufbruch zu einer unendlichen Reise zu Gott. Als Lokomotivführer seines «Peace Train» zeigt sich der Mystiker Cat Stevens bemüht, den Frieden, den er fand, zu verbreiten; als Musiker will er die Musik nicht mehr als «haram» (unrein) diskreditieren, sondern feiern als eine der «Naturschönheiten», die wir Allahs Schöpfung verdanken: «Die Musik ist noch immer in mir. Wenn ich heute einen Song singen will, singe ich ihn eben. Nur mit dem Unterschied, dass ich weiss: Wenn Menschen sich davon berührt fühlen, ist es Gott, der sie berührt.»

[nzz.ch, 19. Dez. 2014]

Tell ’Em I’m Gone is the first new Yusuf album to be released since 2009’s acclaimed Roadsinger. Recorded all over the world, including Los Angeles, Dubai, Brussels, and London, the album features 10 brand-new studio recordings, including five originals and five carefully-chosen cover songs. Tell ’Em I’m Gone features musical contributions from Richard Thompson, blues harmonica legend Charlie Musselwhite, singer-songwriter Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, Tuareg group Tinariwen, and guitarist Matt Sweeney. The album was produced by Yusuf and Rick Rubin, and was mixed by Yusuf and Paul Samwell-Smith.

Each track on Tell ’Em I’m Gone revives the age-old themes of freedom and peace that have prevailed through more than four decades of Yusuf’s musical career. On this album, Yusuf returns to the roots of his teenage musical inspiration: American blues and R&B, using these genres to explore humanity’s climb to freedom with songs that recall the spirit of his earliest days as a nascent singer-songwriter in London.

Stunning originals like “I Was Raised In Babylon” and “Cat And The Dog Trap” plus covers of American standards (“Big Boss Man,” “You Are My Sunshine”) and a moving version of Edgar Winter’s “Dying To Live” find Yusuf as strong of voice and as engaging a performer as ever before.

"'Dying To Live' was one of my favourite tracks to listen to

while I was on tour in the 70s.

It's an Edgar Winter song,

which I think is so underrated, it's a hidden gem."