Azeema: Mastering engineer Heba Kadry is challenging what we think North African and Arab artists sound like

Heba Kadry didn’t think her job was “glamorous” enough to earn herself an invitation to guest curate at Le Guess Who? festival 2023 in Utrecht, Netherlands. But it’s precisely because of the behind-the-scenes nature of her work – that’s earned her the notoriety and impressive discography she currently boasts – that the festival was so excited to have her help build an excellent line-up.

Le Guess Who? stands as one of the very few music festivals which prefers to celebrate the margins as opposed to the mainstream or bolster celebrity culture. With a deeply democratic structure, the festival has rid itself of a typical hierarchical line-up, preferring an alphabetical and chronological list of its acts, and celebrating pure musical talent from all corners of the globe. 

Calling me from Brooklyn, New York, Heba – who counts Bjork, Sufjan Stevens, Brockhampton and many more notable names as clients – ​​recounts her journey into the music industry. Moving to the US in 2003 at the beginning of the Iraq-war, when “it was not cool to be an immigrant or Arab” she says, and propelled by an unwavering ardour for audio engineering, Heba embarked on her mastering career. Meeting sound engineer Mohamed Sakr steered Kadry toward specialised education in Ohio armed solely with Pro Tools manuals in an era bereft of YouTube tutorials before taking up an internship in Houston, Texas, at the country’s oldest recording studio. 

Transitioning to New York, Heba navigated the intricacies of a male-dominated industry, striving for recognition solely based on her technical skills and expertise. “I wanted to be known as an engineer, period. Not as a ‘female’ engineer or an ‘Arab’ engineer. This is an extremely technical field and at the end of the day people don’t hire you for your gender or where you’re from. I wanted to be known as an engineer that's good at what she does and hired for her skills.” Having to learn about the technical side of music engineering, Heba tells me she “had no time to think about identity politics or racial politics.” As an Egyptian American woman, Kadry's journey bore the imprints of identity nuances and gender biases pervasive in the industry, but when facing microaggressions, she just “didn’t give a shit” and made the quality of her work her priority. 

“Working in a very male dominated field like audio, [women] are less than ten per cent of sound engineers according to recent studies focused on how many female technicians are hired that have charted on Billboard.  Although I believe there are more technical women in non charting experimental and independent fields of music, but that research hasn’t been done yet. Navigating that world comes with its own kind of bullshit, especially coming from a country like Egypt where the hurdles are greater and opportunities more scarce.  If I faced any sexism or disparity in the US, I either wasn’t aware of it because they simply didn’t hire me, or I just put the blinders on and did my work. I didn't give a shit. I’ve dealt with way worse”

Her work as a mastering engineer sculpts the final sonic landscape of an album, ensuring coherence. She likens the work to that of an art gallery curator, arranging the diverse elements of a musical album to craft a seamless sonic journey. Heba emphasises the pivotal role of mastering in harmonising various mixes crafted over extended periods by different engineers, crucial for the listening experience across tracks. “There are three stages in the music production process. Recording, mixing, and mastering,” Heba explains to me. “It's your role as a mastering engineer to take a collection of mixes recorded over a period of time, two years, three years, even five years or more, and in some cases mixed by four or five different mixers and make them gel together and sound cohesive. It’s our role as mastering engineers to be an objective ear, in a very tuned acoustically calibrated environment to help artists and producers take their albums to the finish line. Our role can vary from purely technical to very creative depending on the source material and what the producer needs.”

Her involvement at Le Guess Who? Festival underscores the depth of her influence in the industry and her commitment to championing underrepresented artists, particularly from the the North African and Arab region. According to the engineer, it was “one of the best experiences I've had, not just as an engineer but also as a person, especially in this time that we live in now,” she says.

At the festival, Kadry platformed legendary artists like Palestinian-born, Paris-based musician Kamilya Jubran, alongside emerging talents such as Toumba, Deena Abdelwahed, ZULI and Faten Kanaan. She also aimed to foreground the producers and mixers too, amplifying their creative prowess often eclipsed by performers, like Khyam Allami, an Iraqi-British multi-instrumentalist musician, composer, researcher and founder of Nawa Recordings. Cairo was a clear calling of hers too, curating in Baskot Lel Baltageyya, a Cairo-based project headed by musician Adham Zidan and poet Anwar Dabbour; El Kontessa, the stage name of Cairo-based producer, DJ, and multidisciplinary artist Fajr Soliman; and Cairo-based electronic producer 3Phaz. Whilst Heba tells me she had the honour of inviting legendary Moroccan artist Amina Alaoui whose Le Guess Who? performance was the last one of her career.

The festival's ethos, centred on music discovery and inclusivity, deeply resonated with Kadry, renewing her hope amidst an industry grappling with economic disparities and streaming challenges. “The music scene in the SWANA region is incredible right now and I think it's very underrated,” Heba tells me. “I think whenever festivals have their brown quota. It's usually two slots. With Le Guess Who? it felt limitless. It never felt tokenised.”

Heba thinks the festival also attracts “a very specific type of music listener, people who are truly in love with music and music discovery, rather than relying on Spotify playlists or radio stations for music discovery.” For the mastering engineer, the festival was “healing,” given the current situation in Palestine. She felt that the artists from the Middle East were curated sensitively and with consideration, herself included, and she felt solidarity among her Arab and West Asian community. Her new-found hope in the industry was also catalysed at a time when “equitable remuneration is really bad with the economics of streaming artists,” she claims.

Looking forward, Kadry remains steadfast in her advocacy for SWANA artists, leveraging her platform to amplify their musical brilliance on a global stage. Her aspirations transcend mere album engineering; she seeks to catalyse change, urging festivals and platforms to diversify their offerings and embrace music beyond borders.

Kadry's dedication to her craft and her unwavering commitment to amplifying underrepresented voices in the music industry illustrate her as not just a mastering engineer, but a cultural curator reshaping the industry’s landscape.

Follow Heba here and find out more about Le Guess Who? 2024 here.

Read full artist here

Words by Dalia Al-Dujaili

Azeema: Mastering engineer Heba Kadry is challenging what we think North African and Arab artists sound like

Heba Kadry didn’t think her job was “glamorous” enough to earn herself an invitation to guest curate at Le Guess Who? festival 2023 in Utrecht, Netherlands. But it’s precisely because of the behind-the-scenes nature of her work – that’s earned her the notoriety and impressive discography she currently boasts – that the festival was so excited to have her help build an excellent line-up.

Le Guess Who? stands as one of the very few music festivals which prefers to celebrate the margins as opposed to the mainstream or bolster celebrity culture. With a deeply democratic structure, the festival has rid itself of a typical hierarchical line-up, preferring an alphabetical and chronological list of its acts, and celebrating pure musical talent from all corners of the globe. 

Calling me from Brooklyn, New York, Heba – who counts Bjork, Sufjan Stevens, Brockhampton and many more notable names as clients – ​​recounts her journey into the music industry. Moving to the US in 2003 at the beginning of the Iraq-war, when “it was not cool to be an immigrant or Arab” she says, and propelled by an unwavering ardour for audio engineering, Heba embarked on her mastering career. Meeting sound engineer Mohamed Sakr steered Kadry toward specialised education in Ohio armed solely with Pro Tools manuals in an era bereft of YouTube tutorials before taking up an internship in Houston, Texas, at the country’s oldest recording studio. 

Transitioning to New York, Heba navigated the intricacies of a male-dominated industry, striving for recognition solely based on her technical skills and expertise. “I wanted to be known as an engineer, period. Not as a ‘female’ engineer or an ‘Arab’ engineer. This is an extremely technical field and at the end of the day people don’t hire you for your gender or where you’re from. I wanted to be known as an engineer that's good at what she does and hired for her skills.” Having to learn about the technical side of music engineering, Heba tells me she “had no time to think about identity politics or racial politics.” As an Egyptian American woman, Kadry's journey bore the imprints of identity nuances and gender biases pervasive in the industry, but when facing microaggressions, she just “didn’t give a shit” and made the quality of her work her priority. 

“Working in a very male dominated field like audio, [women] are less than ten per cent of sound engineers according to recent studies focused on how many female technicians are hired that have charted on Billboard.  Although I believe there are more technical women in non charting experimental and independent fields of music, but that research hasn’t been done yet. Navigating that world comes with its own kind of bullshit, especially coming from a country like Egypt where the hurdles are greater and opportunities more scarce.  If I faced any sexism or disparity in the US, I either wasn’t aware of it because they simply didn’t hire me, or I just put the blinders on and did my work. I didn't give a shit. I’ve dealt with way worse”

Her work as a mastering engineer sculpts the final sonic landscape of an album, ensuring coherence. She likens the work to that of an art gallery curator, arranging the diverse elements of a musical album to craft a seamless sonic journey. Heba emphasises the pivotal role of mastering in harmonising various mixes crafted over extended periods by different engineers, crucial for the listening experience across tracks. “There are three stages in the music production process. Recording, mixing, and mastering,” Heba explains to me. “It's your role as a mastering engineer to take a collection of mixes recorded over a period of time, two years, three years, even five years or more, and in some cases mixed by four or five different mixers and make them gel together and sound cohesive. It’s our role as mastering engineers to be an objective ear, in a very tuned acoustically calibrated environment to help artists and producers take their albums to the finish line. Our role can vary from purely technical to very creative depending on the source material and what the producer needs.”

Her involvement at Le Guess Who? Festival underscores the depth of her influence in the industry and her commitment to championing underrepresented artists, particularly from the the North African and Arab region. According to the engineer, it was “one of the best experiences I've had, not just as an engineer but also as a person, especially in this time that we live in now,” she says.

At the festival, Kadry platformed legendary artists like Palestinian-born, Paris-based musician Kamilya Jubran, alongside emerging talents such as Toumba, Deena Abdelwahed, ZULI and Faten Kanaan. She also aimed to foreground the producers and mixers too, amplifying their creative prowess often eclipsed by performers, like Khyam Allami, an Iraqi-British multi-instrumentalist musician, composer, researcher and founder of Nawa Recordings. Cairo was a clear calling of hers too, curating in Baskot Lel Baltageyya, a Cairo-based project headed by musician Adham Zidan and poet Anwar Dabbour; El Kontessa, the stage name of Cairo-based producer, DJ, and multidisciplinary artist Fajr Soliman; and Cairo-based electronic producer 3Phaz. Whilst Heba tells me she had the honour of inviting legendary Moroccan artist Amina Alaoui whose Le Guess Who? performance was the last one of her career.

The festival's ethos, centred on music discovery and inclusivity, deeply resonated with Kadry, renewing her hope amidst an industry grappling with economic disparities and streaming challenges. “The music scene in the SWANA region is incredible right now and I think it's very underrated,” Heba tells me. “I think whenever festivals have their brown quota. It's usually two slots. With Le Guess Who? it felt limitless. It never felt tokenised.”

Heba thinks the festival also attracts “a very specific type of music listener, people who are truly in love with music and music discovery, rather than relying on Spotify playlists or radio stations for music discovery.” For the mastering engineer, the festival was “healing,” given the current situation in Palestine. She felt that the artists from the Middle East were curated sensitively and with consideration, herself included, and she felt solidarity among her Arab and West Asian community. Her new-found hope in the industry was also catalysed at a time when “equitable remuneration is really bad with the economics of streaming artists,” she claims.

Looking forward, Kadry remains steadfast in her advocacy for SWANA artists, leveraging her platform to amplify their musical brilliance on a global stage. Her aspirations transcend mere album engineering; she seeks to catalyse change, urging festivals and platforms to diversify their offerings and embrace music beyond borders.

Kadry's dedication to her craft and her unwavering commitment to amplifying underrepresented voices in the music industry illustrate her as not just a mastering engineer, but a cultural curator reshaping the industry’s landscape.

Follow Heba here and find out more about Le Guess Who? 2024 here.

Read full artist here

Words by Dalia Al-Dujaili