Bouabdallah... Why 21 songs?!

I disagree with the notion that a singer should release an album containing more than twelve songs. I believe that exceeding this number can transform a potential advantage into a burden for the artist, the songs themselves, and the listener. Art is not a numbers race, and an album’s success is not determined by the quantity of its tracks, but by the impact those songs leave.

When an artist releases 15, 20, or even 30 songs at once, they present the listener with an overwhelming array of choices. In such a large volume, some tracks will succeed while others will fade, and some beautiful works may fail simply because they did not receive adequate attention. I recall the experience of artist Rabah Saqer in 2015, when he released 38 songs. Undoubtedly, it was a massive undertaking, but personally, I felt it did not succeed to the extent appropriate for Rabah Saqer’s artistic stature. Some songs gained traction, while others did not receive their due recognition; the fact that he did not repeat this approach serves as evidence. A similar situation occurred with artist Mohamed Hamaki, who released an album comprising 20 songs in 2019, among others.

Today, I find myself feeling the same surprise regarding artist Abdulmajeed Abdullah, whom I deeply admire and respect. No one can dispute his artistic intelligence and the quality of his choices throughout his long career. However, when he released 21 songs, one must ask: do we really need such a large number to achieve just one, two, or even five successful tracks?

Defenders of this approach might argue that one song succeeded due to its lyrics, another for its melody, a third for its arrangement, and a fourth because it contained all the artistic elements. This is true, and I do not dispute it. However, I am referring to something entirely different: Will every song get its fair chance?

The listener today is not the same as in the past. With numerous platforms available and new songs released daily, along with endless content, releasing such a large volume may cause a beautiful song to compete against another beautiful song from the same album. Instead of guaranteeing its status as the song of the season, this abundance inevitably diminishes its importance in one way or another.

Here, I recall the Arabic proverb: “Many camels yield a rider.” This may be what happens in some albums when works are numerous; the probability of producing one or more standout hits increases. However, a major artist does not need to engage in such calculations. Specifically, Abdulmajeed Abdullah possesses a substantial fan base and artistic legacy that enable him to release just six or eight songs, allowing the audience to anticipate, discuss, memorize, and immerse themselves in each one.

I would have preferred if the 21 songs were distributed over two years, with part released this year and the rest next year. I hope some do not misinterpret my comments as diminishing the value of “Abu Abdulmajeed’s” work, which is absolutely not the case. I am one of his fans, I make it a point to attend his concerts, and I follow his work closely. Precisely for this reason, I feel entitled to express my opinion when I disagree with one of his artistic choices.

True affection involves telling an artist we respect that they could have delivered something even more exquisite. By saying this, I am not claiming that Abdulmajeed Abdullah’s album will fail, nor do I claim to predict its outcome. Rather, I am expressing a personal conviction formed through previous experiences with albums by several singers. I believe that an artist of “Abdulmajeed’s” stature should preserve the value of “scarcity” in his work.

One great song is better than twenty songs competing for the listener’s attention.