At this year’s Babel Music Expo, a world music conference and festival held in Marseille in March, attendees were treated to the evening concerts as well as daytime showcases from emerging artists. One of these was sponsored by Villes des Musiques du Monde, a French national initiative specifically dedicated to promoting such talent. One of the winners of the Le Prix des Musiques d’ICI who performed – and that we really enjoyed – was Algerian-French singer/songwriter Nassim Dendane.
Dendane grew up in Algeria then came to Tours, France, in 2010 to do a Master’s degree in Performing Arts Mediation. He eventually relocated to Paris for an Administration and Management of Music program. Armed with these degrees, he decided, since he was having a difficult time securing gigs, to start his own music venue, La Royal Est. The idea was not only to showcase his own work but also work from other North African artists. And over time it’s become a community center for other emerging immigrant artists. We found a moment to sit down with Dendane, whose last name actually means “musician,” to talk about all this.
The following interview is editing for clarity and length.
Ron Deutsch: It’s a pleasure to meet you. I really enjoyed your set.
Nassim Dendane: Thank you.
Tell me a little about your background. You moved to France from Algeria, right?
I was born in Algeria. It’s true, though my mother was born here in France. My grandfather helped friends to settle in France during World War II. And so my mother was born here and then they went back to Algeria when it became independent in 1962. And so, I’m half-French but, you know, we can’t say that. So for people, I’m Algerian.
I read that your name actually means “musician,” so is it a family tradition, as with griots, for you have become one?
No, it’s not a family tradition. I’m the only one who makes music as a job in my family. All my family members have other jobs – medicine, or architect, or scientist. They play music, but it’s not their job. Only my father was a musician. I didn’t grow up in a traditional Arabic environment. It was a francophone, French environment. My mother loved to listen to both classical and French music. I started to play classical music at five, six years old. And also the first things I loved were people like The Beatles, James Taylor, and Jim Croce. My father was a really, really big fan of this music.
I started to play Arabic music from the desert at the age of 16, as I was interested in both desert music and the story of Black men in Algeria. Because there is a thing we don’t say in all of the Maghreb – we don’t say that Arab people were slave owners, because they were Muslims. So they don’t talk about this thing. But there were Black slaves in the Maghreb. They were treated as second-class citizens and while they are Muslims, they developed in their own way to create a religion, but different. They created their own singing and this music came to be called Gnawa music. Now these people originally came from Guinea. So when you hear the word Gnawa, it’s because they are from Guinea, and the “wa” is to determine the people. So Gnawa means “Guinea people.” But there are two types of Black people in Maghreb. There were the ones whose ancestors were slaves, and the others, they are Berber. Like the Tuareg. The Tuareg weren’t slaves and they are actually among the first population in Maghreb [the Amazight, sometimes called Berber]. Then the Arabs came, and later Turkish people, Romans, and Spanish.
We found a story about this man named Dendane who came from Turkey and went to Spain, because he didn’t want to join the army, and he played music. So both sides of my family came to Algeria and there was this blending with Amazight, Arabic, Turkish, and Spanish. This is my origin.
I call my project Dendana also, because it was like a thing with my grandmother who used to say: “Stop this Dandana!” It means like “making noise,” and so people know what this means.
So how would you describe your music besides “noise-making?”
[Laughs] So I was living in a place in Algeria where there was all different kinds of music – räi, chaâbi, Andalusian music, Wolof. So while I don’t exactly play this, I grew up with all this music. For me, the future is about blending – blending music, blending languages. And it’s a kind of freedom to play this music – and to take some things from jazz, take something from blues. And all together it has one thing in common, rhythm. Rhythm is a universal language. We can play with some people that we don’t talk the same language, but if we play, it’s everything. This is the thing about humans, the heartbeats. We take rhythm from the animals, we see the animals – how they walk, how they run. And this is rhythm. When we listen to Gnawa music [playing Gnawa rhythm with his hands on the table] this is the rhythm of a camel running. And when the camel walks, there is another rhythm.
From my first album it was a mix of reggae, jazz, and Gnawa music from the desert. And there is something all this music has in common. You can hear the same rhythms in all of them.
I found it really interesting that you came to France, not just to study music but to study the business of music.
Yeah, administration, music and arts, in general. So I am also involved in theater, cinema, dance–all the performing arts. I was studying all this in university, and after I moved to Paris, I worked for a jazz festival, but also continued my studies in music administration, how to start and finish a project.
I was doing my studies, but also going out to clubs, working at this jazz festival, and all I heard was funk, jazz, blues, and Latin music. But there was nothing about Gnawa music or chaâbi. There were like very few places for Algerians, Tunisians, and Moroccans to listen to their music. And then also after the terrorist attacks in 2015, and now after October 7, getting gigs has become harder and harder for us. So I created this place, Le Royal Est. But we were programming many kinds music, even Baroque classical.
So it became kind of a meeting place, a salon for North African musicians to gather.
Yeah, it’s a café concert, it’s a bar, and we can make music. At first, I was interested to do a thing where I can play, to have a location where I can play, and where my friends can play. A place where all people I know can play. Nowadays, I play concerts all around, but it’s still my home. Every week, when I finish whatever, afterwards we go there and we eat, play music. So at first, I started it for these reasons. But there was also a second reason – that it was a job that paid me, so I could go to the prefecture and maintain my identity card, and could stay in France. And now I have my French papers, so I’m good.
So often I hear complaints about a lack of places for musicians to play, but you just went and created your own space. But it’s not like it’s an easy thing to just say, “Okay, let’s do this,” right?
I was making my own place first. At first we didn’t call it a concert, because it wasn’t legal. It wasn’t a legitimate place for concerts. So I called it “un rencontre,” a meeting. And one day someone from the government administration came and said, “There’s a concert right there.” And I said, “No, it’s not a concert. It’s a meeting.” And he told me, “No, it’s a concert. There are musicians and the public.” And I said, “No, it’s not the public. They are our friends and also the musicians. We don’t charge for entering. There is no concert written anywhere. It’s just a meeting.” And this guy didn’t come back anymore after that. (He laughs) But now have a license and everything. But at first it was really difficult to do the music.
And I want to add that through this, I met many people because I organized three concerts per week with five musicians each, so that’s 15 musicians per week, and we did this now for five or six years. So I got to know so many musicians in Paris. And all types of music, African, Latin music, everything. And still now, it’s a meeting place for musicians. You don’t even have to play, you can just take a beer and see other musicians. It’s also a place where a musician can find a job too, like when you are looking for a bass player, you come to Le Royal Est and ask and you can find one to call.
But again, going back to the way things are now, with the terrorist attacks, it was so sad to see and it changed many things for us musicians. Because it’s natural, it’s human, to say, “Okay, the Arabic people, Muslims do something wrong, therefore all Arabs are wrong.” So now I’m not playing too much at festivals, so I’m really glad to come here to Babel Music and to get this award, because it’s still not something in France to sing in Arabic, or even singing in French… you’re still Arabic, it doesn’t matter to some. So now we survive with this. But I do other things. I do video. I compose music, but it’s a really sad time. We have to find solutions. My wife is French. I have two children, so they are half-Algerian and half-French. Five years old and two years old. Now it’s the time for my children. I’m working only for that. So I’m paying my bills.
You have recently released a new track?
Yes. It’s a new single called “Vengeance.” It’s about the media and what’s going on in Palestine. It’s about the silence of the media. In French we say “milité” (to be confrontational, to support a cause). It’s a thing about doing music now. To speak out.
For me, journalism is freedom. And the musician is like a journalist. Before there was television or radio, the musician traveled from town to town bringing the news to the people. And in times of war, the musicians would be sent to the king to tell him the story of whatever battle through music, you know? So music is a way to spread the news. It’s what doing music is now in the year 2025.
Thank you for your time. And I hope one day to visit Le Roya Est.
Please, yes. Come. Thank you.
