Sami Yusuf has revolutionized the English nasheed landscape, especially with his quality music videos. Since the launch of his album Al-Mu'allim in July 2003 this young, recently married, shy and unassuming young man has traveled the world over, performing at some of the most prestigious musical venues. From Kuwait to Canada, Kuala Lumpur to Cairo, Sharjah and London, adoring crowds have been dazzled by his mix of passion, funky music and enchanting words. And now, with the imminent launch of his new album, Sami is truly blazing a trail in the international Muslim music scene.

One would expect to spend a day with Sami watching him fend off adoring fans, taking numerous calls from his entourage, and constantly pose for the cameras. On the contrary, this prim and punctilious 25 year old, dressed in open-neck shirt and chinos, with gelled hair, is clearly besotted by his art. He gives off a clean-cut nice guy image, the kind your grandma would love to meet: very well-mannered, pleasant and helpful. But when it comes to music, he is a true devotee: technical and compulsively wrapped up in his subject. When Sami starts talking about polyphony, harmonic minor and middle eights you can tell he has work, particularly his new album, on the brain.

Recently married in April to a German student, his newly wed finds his other love awfully frustrating. Looking forlornly at his loafers, Sami confesses "She’s a bit annoyed with me right now." Not altogether surprising considering Sami couldn’t break away from recording his upcoming album, My Ummah, long enough to enjoy a proper honeymoon. "Every moment of my life is taken up with the album," he laments, "but we did go to Germany - briefly," he adds sheepishly. Despite this temporary annoyance, his wife accepts the demands placed upon a musician of international repute. With a twinkle in his eye, he chuckles "I couldn’t have married a woman who didn't have patience."

Such overflowing zeal for his music has helped Sami develop his talent, "I produce, arrange, compose and play. I have to be in the studio and I write notes for the orchestra; it’s pretty taxing." Most musicians will inform you it’s all worth it because of the buzz they get when arenas fill out with exuberant crowds yelling the chorus. Sami, however, has different ideas. Large crowds perturb him and seclusion is his preferred company. "It's essential sometimes to think, to be creative, especially as a Muslim." Unsurprisingly then, staying in at home takes up all his spare moments.

In some ways it’s ironic that Sami’s worst fear is becoming a ‘pop star’. This student of Music at Manchester University has swiftly become a celebrity amongst Muslims. He wants to distance himself from superficial pin-up adoration and believes if his fans go too far into adulation, they haven’t got his message. "I want to bring people closer to God and His Prophet. Fame is over-rated and delusional." But his protests are probably in vain. I ask why he then does the huge concerts and massive staged videos, especially as they are so up close and personal. "It's part of the show, you know, presentation is everything, so I go along with it," he says rather unconvincingly. Nevertheless, the videos have changed the face of Muslim music taking it to a new audience which has received it enthusiastically.

Having moved to suburban Manchester to escape the hustle and bustle of London life, Sami and his family enjoy enviable tranquility - though the road to the northwest began a long way away in Tehran. His family is Azeri by origin. When he was three they moved to Southall, just outside London. Sami did his A-levels on the side whilst studying music under his father who is a composer, singer and poet, and taught Sami classical Persian, Middle Eastern and Sufi genres with all the rich instruments.

He had the good influence of friends and would pray on and off, but became more aware at 16. He started writing songs at 18 and knew that music was his destiny. He wanted to do "something dignified," he says. "I wanted to dedicate my life to good and even considered leaving music, because the industry can be unpleasant." School friend Bara Kherigi, who now helps write some of his songs, persuaded him to stick at it, encouraging him to promote a positive message. So they started the Awakening project with the al-Mu'allim album as its centre piece.

Sami made it big when his video Al-Mu'allim - literally 'teacher' - hit the Arab and Turkish Music TV airwaves. This gave Sami a breath of self-belief. The song was at number one in the charts for 21 weeks in Egypt and 12 weeks in Turkey. The fact that people chose a religiously inspired album over the normal rock and pop shows that people will chose something spiritual if given the choice. It was a phenomenal achievement, and Sami could not believe the giddy heights he had climbed. He says that it was with God’s help, "as all of us involved had pure intentions. It goes to show how many people love the Prophet, and are happy they can enjoy a tune that isn’t all belly dancing and hedonistic."

It seems the new kid on the block with a soothing musical allure and sensitive Islamic values was too good to be true. "A lot of people were startled when they put the Music TV on and heard lyrics like ‘Muhammad... mercy upon mankind'." The video casts Sami as a cheerful photographer in up market Cairo, generally being ultra-nice to people. "The song is probably my favourite in the album, because of its change of pace musically. Also, it’s all about the beauty of the Prophet’s character." The end of the video features a strange glowing phone-booth like structure that he finds in the desert. Sami insiders tell me that it is an arty representation of the light of Muhammad.

From the same album there was also the beautifully shot video ‘Supplication’. The director, Hani Osama, is a polished filmmaker working with storylines which some may feel are a tad clichéd. The main themes are beauty, light and humility and certainly appealed to the Middle Eastern audience.
Some western Muslims might find nasheeds and Islamic songs monotonous and a bit naff - especially the early genre in the 80s and 90s, but Sami’s new album is more sophisticated and new to the table. He was never a nasheed man; growing up he hardly knew what they were. He defines them as simple songs remembering God, but points out that any song with a good message is Islamic.

The new album offers an interesting fusion of strong lyrics and varied musical instruments. The real test, and Sami’s cherished aim, is to grab the western Muslim audience, he tells me this with an air of confidence, or possibly hidden nerves. He applauds Danish band Outlandish, with whom he has collaborated in My Ummah. "Isam Bachiri is a great guy and after going to Hajj, God became more significant in his life." Their new track together, ‘Try Not to Cry’ is about overcoming oppression and standing by the oppressed. It carries a clear political message that some may deem controversial.

Sami’s view is that if creativity is there, it should be harnessed. His father always told him you had to be born an artist, but he is frustrated that Muslims don’t take up artistic subjects, preferring to be embroiled in the pursuit of money and possessions. I point out that most musicians end up busking. "A lot of them enjoy that, you know. If you want to write songs just go for it. It is beautiful and God loves beauty. You won’t end up poor, insha-Allah."

Music was always a social thing in Sami’s home. Like the Ottomans, after dinner they would have tea, and pull out the ouds. No heavy dhikr, but some light music to lift them, praising God, and then off to bed. "The Ottomans were so cultured and civilised. Did you know that to be an Imam the conditions were you had to know Hebrew, Latin, Persian, and Arabic and had to be good looking too?"

His new album seems to be a poignant mix; it’s about oppression, corruption, terror, hope and celebration. It's far more political than his previous album. There's a song about hijab called 'Free'. 'Try Not to Cry' is powerful stuff; it's about throwing stones at … you can find out for yourself! And the song ‘Mother’ is predictably a touching tribute and a reminder of how much we take our mothers for granted. The video is gushingly sentimental to say the least, with Sami at a grand piano wearing a cooler floppy hairdo that didn't go down well with the Arabs, I am informed.

Due for release in Ramadan, My Ummah has taken a long time and a huge effort to create. He is due to play the Royal Albert Hall on 16th October, an event that should pack out the Hall. Through the ups and downs, between showbiz and spirituality, Sami has become something unique amongst his peers. "This is what we do; I hope people like it and pray for us, that’s really what we need."

© emel 2005 / extracts reproduced with permission