In the blistering heat of June 2013, as Egypt teetered on the brink of monumental change, Cairokee, the country’s trailblazing rock band, took the stage in front of hundreds of thousands gathered at a sit-in outside the Ittihadiya presidential palace. What followed wasn’t just a performance — it was an eruption of energy, emotion, and resistance. The band, invited by volunteer organizers, became the pulse of a nation that was fighting to reclaim its voice in defiance of President Mohamed Morsi’s rule.
As Cairokee powered through their set, the crowd wasn’t just watching — they were a part of the show, belting out lyrics like “we are the people… and our path is right” and “you say ‘justice,’ and they call you a traitor.” Cairokee later called them “the best audience in the world.” That night in Heliopolis, Cairo, it was clear that the band and the people stood united as Cairokee amplified the voice of a nation hungry for change.
“Sout El Horeya” (“Voice of Freedom”) was already a powerful street anthem. When the band played it live, it cemented Cairokee’s role as the soundtrack of a movement. “I felt very proud because I was part of something completely different than going to a concert,” reflects lead guitarist Sherif Hawary. “We were part of something way bigger than everyone.” Speaking over Zoom at 8 p.m. Cairo time, his calm demeanor contrasts with the intensity of that night.
Despite the key role their music has played in Egyptian politics, the band’s members are wary of being labeled a political act. “We always have a message we are trying to get across. Usually, the message is powerful, yet simultaneously very simple,” Hawary says. “We consider ourselves a social band. If you would like to label us as a political band, I would have to refuse that label. This social area often intersects with politics.”
Fast forward to today, and with more than 1.1 million monthly listeners on Spotify alone, their latest album, Roma, has dominated Egypt’s streaming charts for two consecutive years, securing their place among the top five most-streamed artists in more than 20 countries across the MENA region. They also have a growing audience in the rest of the world. The band is currently on its third tour of North America, having played shows in Toronto, Montreal, and New York before wrapping up Sept. 29 in Los Angeles. While their music continues to evolve, their unapologetically free spirit that electrified that June night in 2013 remains the core of their sound.
That spirit was born long before the revolution. Formed in 2003 by childhood friends Amir Eid (vocals), Sherif Hawary (guitar), Tamer Hashem (drums), Sherif Mostafa (keyboard), and Adam El-Alfy (bass), the band started in Cairo’s leafy suburban district of Maadi. Their shared love of music led them to create a band that would influence the Egyptian rock scene and become a cultural force. “When someone asks me what kind of genre we play, I say, ‘I play music,’” Hawary says. Their name, a clever portmanteau of “Cairo” and “karaoke,” speaks to their ambition to sing with the city — amplifying the voices of Cairo’s streets, and by extension, its people, through a diverse discography that’s as vibrant and ever-changing as the city itself.
Cairokee’s sound is a potent mix of rock, pop, and Egyptian folk (shaabi), deeply rooted in their local culture yet resonating more widely. Songs like “Matloob Zaeem” (“Wanted: A Leader”) and “Ethbat Makanak” (“Hold Your Ground”) show their ability to blend catchy melodies with lyrics that confront political and social realities. The existential questioning in “Matloob Zaeem” mirrors the introspective style of Pink Floyd, while the soaring, sing-along choruses in much of their music harken back to the Beatles. Cairokee has crafted a sound that’s at once familiar and distinctly their own, bridging the gap between classic rock and Egyptian identity.
For Eid, the band’s lead singer, this connection to rock runs deep. He recalls the first time he heard a rock song when his brother showed him a track that was playing on MTV. “When I learned that you can sing about anything happening in your life in a song, I came to really love rock music,” he says. “In Egypt, I thought you could only sing songs that were poetic and romantic. But once I learned that there were endless possibilities, and you can express yourself even with aggression, that’s where my story of loving rock music began.”
The meteoric rise of Cairokee is captured in Days with Cairokee, a book by Egyptian author and translator Walaa Kamal, who essentially lived with the band — traveling with them for gigs outside of Egypt and sleeping over in the studio and their houses — for two years. Through more than 40 concerts and countless interviews, Kamal intimately captures their evolution from local gigs to the voice of a generation. The book dives deep into Egypt’s socio-political landscape post-2011 uprising, detailing the band’s identity struggles and Egypt’s patriarchal dynamics. “Cairokee’s legacy is that they’re authentic artists who connect with different generations, especially younger ones, and produce bold, experimental, and genuine music,” Kamal tells me. “They know how to express the spirit of the people.”
Despite their rise, the band has always stayed grounded in their mission. “With our music, we wanted to represent our generation — say the things that people aren’t able to articulate about themselves,” Eid says. Even under the shadow of government censorship and the occasional ban, the band has not shied away from speaking truth to power. Their 2014 album El Sekka Shemal (The Wrong Turn) stands as a testament to their refusal to back down, filled with tracks that challenge the status quo and call for freedom.
Yet Roma, their latest album, departs from the overt political commentary that has long defined their sound, delving into themes of self-discovery, nostalgia, and imagination. The album, released in the fall of 2022, reflects a more introspective side of Cairokee, exploring universal human struggles rather than direct political confrontation. “Cairokee’s voice continues to change and evolve because they are starting to look inward rather than outward,” Kamal says.
The album unfolds like a personal journey; tracks like “Basrah w Atoh” (“My Mind Wanders and I Lose Myself”) exude a sense of nostalgia and melancholy, while songs like “James Dean” dive into romantic dreamscapes. The music leans heavily into indie rock and pop, with splashes of EDM synths and rap grooves, steering away from the band’s earlier influences.
While Roma may have stepped back from direct political confrontation, Cairokee didn’t stay silent for long. Their single “Telk Qadeya” (“That’s a Cause”), released in late November 2023 — just one month into the ongoing genocide in Gaza — saw the band return to their roots. Where Roma explored themes of loss, love, and escapism, this song reignited Cairokee’s role as social critics, calling out the West’s selective outrage and moral hypocrisy.
At its core, “Telk Qadeya” is a critique of Western doublespeak — the way Western rhetoric praises freedom and human rights while staying silent on atrocities like the genocide in Gaza. The song’s refrain, “This is one issue, and that’s another,” exposes the compartmentalization of struggles — where the West “save[s] sea turtles while killing human animals.” Mostafa Ibrahim, melancholic poet of the Egyptian revolution, penned the lyrics, which bristle with quiet fury as Eid’s calm delivery builds into a soaring climax.
“We know that the West has double standards, where they see us as less human than them. They see us as numbers. They don’t see us as humans who deserve to live freely [or] have the right to self-determination in our own country,” Eid says. “If Palestinians had blonde hair and were European, this would have never happened.”
The release of “Telk Qadeya” was accompanied by a striking cover: two busts of the Statue of Liberty, their faces doubled, set against a blood-red backdrop. It’s a visual that cuts as deep as the song itself — a biting indictment of Western hypocrisy when it comes to justice. The music video pushes that narrative further, weaving haunting footage of Gaza with the song’s English-translated lyrics. The result is an unflinching piece of art that demands your attention, shining a spotlight on the Western world’s convenient moral blind spots.
As Cairokee embark on their North American tour, they carry with them the stories and struggles that have shaped their music for more than two decades. From the streets of Cairo to stages around the world, their sound remains a powerful voice for those seeking to be heard. Cairokee’s ability to navigate between introspection and rebellion, between tender reflection and fierce critique, is what cements their place as one of the most compelling bands in the world. As they continue to evolve, one thing remains clear: Cairokee’s music is not just a soundtrack to the times — it’s a weapon for resistance and a vessel for deep introspection into the human experience. As Hawary puts it, “We always try to take the side of the people — because we are all one of them and part of them.”
Interviews for this piece were conducted primarily in Arabic.
