My fears about going to Iraq outweighed the actual danger. I arrived in Baghdad and Iraq felt quite secure. Especially in the Kurdish-controlled parts of Northern Iraq, where life was a lot safer than Los Angeles.
Meanwhile, Mosul, Baghdad, and non-Kurdish Iraq had safety risks from kidnappings, and in these areas we had armed fixers with us. Mosul was liberated from ISIS in a 10 month battle in the summer of 2017, and the old part of the city was in rubble with residual sleeper cells. Two car bombs had exploded in the weeks leading up to our trip. In Mosul, we stayed at a safe house with armed guards posted around the house. I was given a loaded Kalashnikov automatic rifle to keep by my bed "just in case." I explained to the fixer I had no idea how to use an assault rifle.
Iraq is an all-cash economy. Credit cards are not accepted and there are very few ATMs, none of which take American cards. I was given bricks of $100 bills as payment and spending money. Between the cash, the rock 'n' roll, and the potential danger, Iraq felt like a spiritual home for me. I was made for this environment. The inner monologue in my mind dimmed way down and I felt present. It was very easy to get into the headspace to create music.
We set up in an abandoned restaurant on the edge of the Tigris river to record a classical trio called Awtar Nergal (Strings of Nergal). I asked the band what life was like living under ISIS. The violin player said he had buried his instrument under his garden after one of his neighbors tipped off ISIS that he was a musician. They came to his house to question him. He told them he hated music. He said he couldn't stand the sound of it. He was arrested and tortured over the course of a few months. It was incredible that he had so much love and dedication to music in the face of real adversity. I was ready to give up on my music career after a few music managers passed on my album!
Another musician had been caught with a handful of instruments in his house. He had numerous ouds, guitars, violins, etc. Because he had so many instruments, ISIS thought he was possessed by a demon. They took pity on him and performed some prayers to get rid of the demon. He was left alone.
One night we were in a Kurdish shisha (hookah) bar in Sulaymaniyah. We joked around with the owner that I would do a concert there. He thought this was great idea and booked me the following week. I made up some flyers and sent them around the local university. The show went over really well with the non-English speaking crowd, and the owner asked me to perform again the following week. At the next show the same group of Kurdish people showed up with all of their friends. They had listened to the music online and learned the lyrics. I didn't want to tell them what my English lyrics meant in Kurdish.
