Belgian-Tunisian DJ and techno producer Sara Dziri has become an integral part of the Brussels club scene. At the end of March, her debut album ‘Close To Home’ will be released on the Scottish label Optimo Music. An album full of personality and authenticity. “The end of a personal quest”, she says.
Sara Dziri’s music studio is located near Wiels, the centre for contemporary art in the Forest district of Brussels. The museum’s café - a wonderful place to sit, especially when the sun is shining - has become a regular base for Dziri. It is in this cultural temple that she gives us an insight into her quest and the eternal doubt that accompanies it. “I think I’ve had all sorts of things brewing in my subconscious that have come out musically. It wasn’t an easy process. Because it also has to do with my search for who I am as a DJ, as a producer.”
March
More than a month has passed since we last spoke with Sara Dziri. Since then, not only has her single ‘Fille De Racaille’ been voted the best electronic release of February by Bandcamp, but she has also given two release shows at two very important locations in Brussels. In addition, there were plans with the Not Your Techno collective to organise the first secret rave of 2022. It’s only the third month of the year. The album hasn’t even been released yet. After two years of wondering if she had made the right choice, Dziri seems to have taken off. Here’s someone who clearly enjoys what she does and, despite any personal doubts, seems to have chosen the right profession.
While Manpower of Optimo went to Fuse for a release party, the night before she played in the Beursschouwburg with Italian ney musician Valentina Bellanova. It was an amazing performance. The way these two artists brought their two completely different musical worlds together and immediately opened up new possibilities. Here’s a performer who not only delivered a more vicious version of her record, but the way the contemplative sound of the ney was combined with the searing beats here gave a new insight into her immense versatility. ‘Fille De Racaille’, which she told us was the most aggressive track on her release, really stands out as a ferociously pompous track that deserved to be a Bandcamp favourite.
2020
At the beginning of 2020, she decides to devote herself entirely to music. With her brand-new self-employed status in her pocket, she is also financially more solid than many other artists during the suddenly emerging Covid crisis. During the Covid crisis, the Belgian government distributed a monthly allowance to all self-employed people who were unable to carry out their work during the forced closure. It was just enough to keep everyone hopeful about what might come next.
If you’re an artist in Belgium, you have two options. Either you become self-employed or you apply for ‘artist status’. The latter gives you the same benefits as a regular employee. The disadvantage is that on days when you don’t work, you are registered as unemployed. “I have something against this principle. Because then you are seen as someone who contributes nothing to society. There are periods when it seems that you are not working, but they are important in order to create something afterwards.” It is mainly actors or technicians in large theatres who can benefit from this system.
Belgian nightlife remained closed for a long time. A period that was not entirely careless for Dziri. The optimism of “it’s only for a short time” disappeared after a few months. The thought “maybe this is not the right choice, right now, in this world we live in now” arised. “If this goes on for years, I don’t know if it’s realistic to throw myself into music completely. Things are looking better now, so we’ll see. Still, the question I’m beginning to ask myself is: ‘Do I really want to do everything in music?”
In a society that is becoming more diverse and where more people have mixed backgrounds, I find it a bit unworldly to talk about exoticism.
In the meantime, Dziri manages to keep herself busy with some unexpected projects. For example, she is composing the soundtrack for two theatre performances and the jingle for the new podcast series of the Ancienne Belgique (better known as AB, one of the larger concert venues in the capital, ks). When these were completed, she was also asked by the Goethe Institute to provide music for a dance performance. But that’s not her main focus. She prefers to produce music for the dance floor, for the deejay to play with. To create the sounds she wants to play in her sets.
Meanwhile, she is also finalizing her debut album. The musical story she wants to tell on ‘Close To Home’ is slowly becoming clear to her. Working titles become actual titles. She decides to sing some of the songs herself. Not an obvious choice, she admits. “It was something I had doubts about: do I use it and how do I use it?” It is important to her to make a record that sounds the way she wants it to. “My music is mine - I’m not making it to please people. There are Arabic influences in my record, but not in the way that is expected.” Despite this, some journalists continue to use the word ‘exotic’ when describing her music. “In a society that is becoming more and more diverse and where more and more people have mixed backgrounds, I find it a bit unworldly to talk about exoticism.”
Authenticity
Unfortunately, it’s no surprise when she says: “I’ve never felt completely Flemish. At the same time, I’ve never felt completely Tunisian either.” It’s a common statement and feeling for people of mixed backgrounds. In early 2022, Vice published the article ‘Racial Imposter Syndrome Makes You Feel Like Your Identity Isn’t Yours..’ “That was a very interesting article. I think I suffered from it myself.”
This feeling of not being at home somewhere, because part of you is being displaced, also seeps through in the albumtitle. In addition, Dziri is not only discriminated against because of her Belgian-Tunisian identity, she also still faces discrimination as a queer woman. “I’ve recently realised that even though I’m not a super hard and very direct victim of racism, I still have to deal with it a lot. Either because I was seen in an exotic way or because I was confronted with incomprehension, I always felt like an outsider. So even if it’s not in your face, it doesn’t mean that my story shouldn’t be told.”
Identity
Dziri has spent a lot of time in recent years searching for her identity. In 2016, she landed in Toronto to recharge her batteries and, above all, to get away from Belgium. This was also the beginning of her search. The choice of a musical career had already been made. But coming from a completely different background, she needed time and space to work on this career change, away from her familiar surroundings. “It seemed difficult to continue in Belgium.” In Canada, she decides to let her Arab and North African influences seep into her music. “I grew up with these North African and Arabic sounds. My father had a very big box of cassettes. There was a lot of Arabic music in there. As a musician and a deejay, I bring a part of myself. So it was a logical step for me to have those influences in my music.”
As a musician and a deejay, I bring a part of myself.
Back in Belgium, she organised parties under the name [Souk Sessions] (https://soundcloud.com/souksessions). This soon became too restrictive: not only did the concept seem a little too obvious, but it also limited her as an artist and as a person. Finally, at the end of 2019, she founded Not Your Techno with Yasmine Dammak. “I really click with Yasmine because we have a very similar story. Although she is from Tunisia and I was born in Belgium.” With Not Your Techno, the two want to give an answer to the white man’s bastion that is techno. “Not Your Techno is about claiming space in the electronic scene. It would of course be easier to say ‘we are a queer collective, a feminist collective or a POC collective’, but it’s this intersectionality that’s important to us.” During the lockdown, they also felt the urgency to organise some online talks in collaboration with the Brussels organisation Missfitte. The first was about women in the Belgian club scene, following the documentary ‘Platendraaiers’, which was broadcasted at the time by the Belgian TV channel VRT. The documentary pretended to be a historical overview of the Belgian club scene, but managed to completely ignore the few women who were part of it, at least in their promotional material. When many negative reactions arose, mainly from women, the director reacted rather childishly, which only added to the outrage. “I remember how angry I was at the time. And I wasn’t the only one. I think there are a lot of women in the history of electronic music, but they always get pushed aside.”
The second talk focused on the political and economic difficulties faced by artists from the WANA region (West Asia, North Africa, ks). “It’s still difficult to get a visa if you live there. The artists from that region, who are really booming, often no longer live there. Because otherwise it is not possible to travel and live as an artist. Even though there are initiatives to strengthen this region, it remains a political problem.” In addition, music software such as Ableton is not only unaffordable for many non-Western artists. The way music software deals with rhythms, for example, is programmed from a strict Western mindset. More and more artists are calling for a ‘decolonisation of music software’. One way of dealing with this, as Dziri does, is to compose by ear. “There are limitations with Ableton. Because I work by ear, the final rhythm may not be exactly the original rhythm. But that’s how I found my way.""
Now that the album is finished, the desire to produce more analogue is growing. “There are two reasons for this: firstly, the sound quality is different. Secondly, I want to limit what I use. With software like Ableton, the world is infinite. You can search for a certain sound for a long time and maybe you don’t need it to achieve what you want.” In her studio there is currently a Roland TR-8S and the KORG Monologue. “I have always been very DIY. I learned almost everything on my own, without much guidance. What is different today for women who want to start DJing or producing is that there is a lot more opportunity to ask a peer ‘can you help me with this?’” There are also a lot of initiatives in Brussels that specifically target women and/or lgbtqia+ people, such as introductory afternoons to learn how to DJ or produce.
Fuse
A thought that often comes up in our conversations is: “Things aren’t always given to you. You often have to do it yourself.” This applies both to arranging residencies at online radios such as Kiosk Radio and Tsugi, and to finding the right label. For example, while putting the final touches on ‘Close To Home’, Dziri wrote to around twenty labels. Optimo Music turned out to be one of the interested parties. “It’s quite an honour because it’s not just any label.” As a DJ and producer, Dziri sticks to a dark, melancholic techno sound that flirts with electro and trance, melodic but mostly dark. “I think I’ve found my own style more and more. My music is eclectic, but for me there is a common thread.” This sound not only fits perfectly with Optimo Music, but has also made her a standout at the legendary Brussels techno club Fuse. While the 170 bpm techno beats blast from the speakers downstairs, Dziri is regularly upstairs. First as a partygoer, and since autumn 2021 also as a resident DJ. “The Motion Room has always been my favourite room, so it’s a nice experience to tell my story there. I think it has influenced my style in a short time.”
Sara Dziri clearly brings more to the dance floor than just infectious beats.