I remember wanting to write the whole track I was working on. I can be impatient, especially given the fact that I've yet to gain experience with the creative way of working. My initial thought was: I should be able to write this whole song in one or two hours. And sometimes it happens. But that track felt special. I was more emotionally invested in it, and I could sense it being ready to flow from above and through my hand. What I did get during that session was, based on my early assessment, just bits — seemingly unrelated paragraphs. I left the session feeling a little frustrated about not being able to complete the track that day, nor feeling like I knew what would need to be written next.
During the days that followed, however, other parts of the whole came to me, and while I missed the forest for the trees during the nitty-gritty phase — to my surprise, everything connected and somehow clicked when I read the whole. I could see how each part would be assembled, as if solving a puzzle. I was listening to the jazzy type of instrumental I so love that day, sitting at my desk, reading and rehearsing the lines while the music played. I noticed I was smiling while it was happening; I could feel and visualize the whole track in my mind. Suddenly, a jolt of joy hit me like lightning. I felt the chills on my spine. That was one of the defining moments in my artistic journey.
The itch I couldn't get my fingers on
I started writing rhymes when I was a teen. I was influenced by a group of French rappers called Sexion d'Assaut. Friends of mine also did raps at their school, wanting to pursue it as a career. We would exchange rhymes, and they would like what I wrote. I stopped writing for two or three years afterwards because my life needed me to focus on my first job. I still kept listening to music almost all the time, just as I did since a kid.
Those years felt overwhelming. Being creative by nature means I get a lot of ideas, and I desire to experiment with creation. It felt like an itch I couldn't get my fingers on. The thing that would prevent me from even trying back then was a lack of belief. I had no data in my mind to even think about taking this potential direction seriously. I felt "filled" for the most part as a result. It wasn't the best feeling, to be honest.
Eventually I'd hear "The Blacker the Berry" from Kendrick Lamar in 2017, which I found to be on the same album as "King Kunta," the track that made me listen to him in the first place. His investment in a cause bigger than himself reawakened the writer in me. I picked the pen up. And — sorry to disappoint you — for only a few days. I left it because I couldn't believe making music was something realistic for me at that time. Eventually, friends would notice me listening to instrumentals almost all the time, and I'd try to rap sometimes, and they'd tell me to write. I did in the end, recording my first horror back in 2021. It was a pure mess of rhymes, compression and radio effects. I kept writing, however, and recording various tracks, all of which were something I'd never let anyone listen to — out of human decency, haha.
But past a certain point, I couldn't deny my love for the craft anymore. Writing lyrics had become my favourite way of processing my life, because it had music, and music made it more fun and experimental. After some research I found out I needed some more professional equipment, which I bought, and that I could also send my recordings to professional engineers. Seeing my tracks come to life afterwards was the turning point, and once I saw the potential, I never looked back. When I finally started working on tracks — not for potential fame or income, but because I jump and scream and laugh ear to ear when I can modify a voice and drown it in an instrumental — that's when I felt like things were moving as they should.
What I want this music to do
I can write punchlines, I can rhyme, I can sound cool. Most important to me, however, is to be authentic, and genuine, and considerate with the music I make. I don't seek to divide. I want to unite. I always take myself as the example, whether I mess up big time or experience small wins. In the end, what I want this music to do is to be the friend of my listener — the one that allows her to feel seen, heard, and, more importantly, realize that others have it as bad or worse, and that she too can overcome her challenges. I want to assist her in her healing and growth by being the example of the process in real time. A direct peek into the actual mundane and boring and uncomfortable processes of life. Because that's how we actually grow.
My songs are about making sense of the messier side of life. Finding the light even in the darkest of caves. I am optimistic by nature. I sincerely believe that at the end of everything, pleasant or traumatic, there is an opportunity patiently waiting for us — a treasure to be found, one that offers a profound transformation and soul growth. When I write, my tracks often articulate this arc.
Down to Earth Altitude is my label's name. It's my production identity: we value authenticity over show, we prefer the ugly truth over the beautiful lie, we look into the soul of people — not at what they portray. It's also my philosophy: regardless of the height we reach in life, we're still human beings walking on this Earth seen from space. It's a fusion between the highest of heights and the most grounding of truths.
While preparing this page, I was asked what fear or doubt still shows up. My answer:
Impatience. Self-criticism. It's not good enough. Am I ever going to get good at it? The doubt about being able to make a new track after "luckily" completing the previous one.
I was also asked to complete a sentence: "If you're someone who ______, you're in the right place." Here is my answer, unedited:
Completing this phrase would be the antithesis of what it's trying to do, wouldn't it? It's about making promises. Promises are flashy. We're real here. Let's not make big promises or give speeches. We're not into politics. What I will say, however, is: if you're someone who's as tired as I am of big promises and impressive talks, you're in the right place. Because I have nothing to promise. You join the journey, and we see what happens.
We walk the journey together
I invite you to join me on my journey. I am a kid deep inside, and fun is what I live for — when my other, more serious and loner type of twin is getting a breather. My promise is to share my journey with you. How lyrics look at first. How I feel about starting over with a new track. My struggles while recording or mixing. My wins. You're my people. And we walk the journey together.
You will want to walk this journey with me only if you resonate with me as a person. I have nothing flashier or more impressive to say, because that's not what I like or want to support someone with. Do we share similar values? Do you like those who get up on their feet and engage with probabilities? Do you like the truth — the actual realities of life we've polished? Do you like the music I make? Do you like my sentences and views on the world and life in general? Unless you resonate with me, you shouldn't force yourself to — because I'm in for the long run, and I'll only give myself to those who commit in life.
And to you, deciding to embark on this journey with me while I'm neither famous nor rich — don't you have something better to do? Hahaha. Seriously. Thank you. All the best to us.
— Rabih