Aziz began lute lessons at age 14 in his hometown in Upper Egypt. "I became confused. I asked myself, 'Is it just a game or a hobby, or could it be taken for a profession?' " he said.
Amid resistance from his parents and his fear of failure, Aziz, an accountant by training with no ties to religious movements or political parties, struggled with whether to become a professional musician.
"Given my culture, I thought I should have a real job and take music as a hobby," he said. "In the beginning, I tried to stay away from music because I was scared of coming to Cairo, as I did not know anyone here. . . .
"So I tried to work in any other field, but I could not. Finally, music pushed me to take the risk and come to Cairo."
In the city, Aziz joined the prestigious Arab Music Institute to study Oriental music. Besides writing songs for himself, Aziz composed about 200 melodies for movie soundtracks, plays and a few prominent Egyptian singers.
Aziz's notes reverberate in an atmosphere thick with fear of social explosion. Despite President Hosni Mubarak's authoritarian grip, Egypt has been rocked by protests and labor strikes over skyrocketing inflation and tough living conditions. His music hits these chords, but Aziz denies that his songs stoke passion for revolt, or that he is a political singer.
His lyrics are more metaphorical than invective. In "Fake," he sings: I cannot foresee the future or even see the past. . . . I cannot decide whether this is disaster or a normal situation. I cannot differentiate between a child and an old man. Is this man asleep or just discreet and full of rebellion? Are we the same people or are we all confused?
"I don't mean to influence people. I believe influencing listeners is a cheap undertaking. It is a form of blackmailing," said Aziz, who performs a few concerts a year, mainly in cultural centers and theaters. "I just say words that any other Egyptian would like to say. . . . I don't like inciting songs. I only prefer to raise questions in my songs."
He sings in another song: Poke me, perhaps I will wake up and speak in both colloquial and classical language. . . . Make me laugh, perhaps I will dream, make a change, express what I am hiding.
He acknowledges that his songs seek to resurrect self-esteem. "The only thing that I wish to move in people is their human dignity," Aziz said. "If I retrieve my self-esteem, I will automatically refuse a lot of things. I won't accept different forms of mistreatment. In fact, we have made concessions on many things, which implied daily humiliations."
In "A Piece Is Missing," he sings: Every time I add a new piece, I realize that there is still a piece missing. When I get a shirt, I lose a jacket. I keep telling myself that one day I will be happy But I hope when that day comes, I will still have a spirit to feel happy.
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Times staff writer Jeffrey Fleishman contributed to this report.
