#the264cru

We let his hair do the talking, speaking a thousand words telling a hundred stories. Mohammed Abood, better known as DJ Mo City was first introduced to FIBRE as a ‘cool fellow Iraqi.’ Intrigued, we wanted to discover this character whose name kept popping up everywhere we went. Prior to our sit down, in the early hours of the AM at an after-party one night, whilst standing in a stranger’s kitchen like deer caught in the headlight, we find warmth in the instant that Mo walks in through the doors, hollering ‘Aslan Aadi.’ His arms wrapped around the neck of a fella he had just met that night, he is schooling him with the ins and outs of Arabic rap. We recognised in an instant that this man is enigmatic!

His story starts from when he was in Delhi, India where he was home schooled until he was able to join an Iraqi school when his family moved to Mumbai. He integrated himself into a community of expats, coming from Germany, Russia and the US to name a few. He described the cliques that naturally formed around him, the Iraqis, Germans and Russians as a ‘crew’ versus the Brits, French and Americans. He nonetheless felt like he belonged. This experience however was more than the foundation of his memories; it was his induction to music. He remembers how a British kid from East London introduced him to the sounds of Dubstep, Drum ‘n’ Bass and Garage, sounds that were unheard of at the time in India. Whilst twiddling with his moustache, he reminisces of how he was exposed to Hip-Hop, when his brother would come home tipsy and start rapping whilst sharing stories about his time in the club. It was his gradual discoveries and curiosity that drove him out of his bedroom and into dark, unknown alleys that were the home of a scene he wanted to be a part of.  It was happening in the clubs, the clubs that constantly refused him entry on account of his age, and instead, kept him waiting outside.

“I AM YOUNG, AND I LOOK YOUNG BUT I WANT TO BE HERE.”

 In spite of this, he found himself trying weekend after weekend, and his persistency meant his face would eventually become recognised. Whilst lingering around the back in flip-flops, the bouncer receives a call telling him to let the young’un in. Former connections meant that Mo was about to embark upon his first journey in the scene. He was soon enraptured, assimilated and became one of the regular faces there.  The club owner eventually throws it to him, the chance to MC in the club. Mo suddenly finds himself hosting the party every Friday night scoring 200 rupees per week. He quickly adopted the nickname of ‘Shorty’ and became the go-to guy for parties - he knew where they were at, and he knew what was up.

Over candlelight and with each drop of wax, he utters names of clubs, events, gigs and nights that he was involved in, that he helped give substance to, names that helped him understand better the scene and comprehend further his love for music. There was Odyssey in Gurgaon, Block Parties in Noida and Decibal in New Delhi. Following the music and wherever it took him, and at most times with nothing but $7 in his pocket, headphones and a CD player, he decided his role as a promoter and MC was what was quenching his thirst at the time. It was the intermediate link between the DJ and the crowd and Mo felt a deep fulfilment in linking the two together. It was the remedy for truly enjoying music on a night out.

Having made a name for himself, his experiences in India grew into dribs and drabs of involvement in the music scene – he found himself organising freestyle battle nights, promoting his own gigs and MC-ing across various clubs. Yet as with anything else, it quickly became saturated for him, and he was already waiting for the next phase of his life. A transition was marinating; he was no longer able to relate to the Hip-Hop scene and was seeking a deeper connection to alternative sounds. Hours into our sitting, we slowly unravel that his life is shaped by music. It is the essential key in determining his progression and at times his regression.

An interlude, he excuses himself and takes out a small vintage green tin. He takes out a comb and a small pot, and brushes a layer of wax through his moustache. He then reconnects with us and tells us about a call he received that was a major turning point and mark in his own history – DJ Kika from what seemed a lifetime ago gets in touch with him. She proposes they set up a Facebook group to promote and find other Reggae lovers in the country. A year passes, and Mo found himself organising a Bob Marley tribute, and by combining his skills and the knowledge of his accomplices Ragav and Zorawar, the birth of the Reggae movement ‘Reggae Rajahs’ flourishes in India. With this project, his approach was to promote concussion sounds whilst experimenting with new music unaware of the possible outcome. Yet he was also promoting peace through music, “dropping beats not bombs” in line with what was happening in his home, Iraq. It was a sentimental tribute to his home country, a country he visited not so frequently, a country that devastated him and hardly ever welcomed him.

 “I’M A SOLO GUY, WHICH IS BOTH GOOD AND BAD.”

 Just when he thought he had found himself, there comes a dark turning point in his life. He found himself juggling work and studies, catering to his family whilst struggling to hold onto his visa in India. Putting his studies off year after year to hold onto to his golden pass and his relentless urge to stay in India and finish what he started, his time was coming to an end. With one week remaining on his stamp before having to exit India for good, he accepted that what was written for him was written in black and white. He found the forces beyond his control aligning themselves, taking him out of his home, taking him out of a sense of order and taking loved ones away from him.

The result was an obligatory trip to his not-home, Iraq, and Mo found himself on the edge of losing hope. He questioned his stance in life, he questioned the meaning of family, he understood disappointment, cowardice and selfishness exuberating from people who were only looking out for themselves. He questioned how and why in a country that once was the ‘land of floating milk and honey.’ He however fought his dismal and scarring experiences in Iraq through frequent applications for a Schengen visa and numerous international phone calls. It was music that kept him fighting, kept him searching and that kept him defining his future. It was an emblem of hope and escape.  With abundant bookings to DJ in Europe missed, familial reunions in the UAE, nomadic escapes to Malaysia and couch surfing in Turkey, it was time for a new and more definitive mission, a new adventure.  

 “MUSIC SAVED MY LIFE.”

 So Dubai it was. It was an opportunity that made sense, an opportunity he embraced fully. After a disturbing shock to his system during his time in Iraq, he spent his first thirty-six hours in Dubai partying to ease himself back into his element. The year is 2013 and Mo is infiltrating the scene rapidly as the ‘underground music scene’ is at the birth of its hype. With OHM, he introduces The Lemon Jam, LOFI District and most recently Karak Beats alongside The 264 cru. His intention had shifted as he strived to “do something alternative and not necessarily underground.” He introduces Motellacast, a weekly podcast where he mixes the sounds of hip-hop with the likes of Billie Holiday’s caramelising blues. The eclectic sets he whips together are a tribute to forming and reforming alternative sounds. His life as a promoter is back and does him well; it endorses a liberty in him that he cannot find in a ‘stubborn’ DJ role. A role that he feels might limit his desire in creating a fusion, an eclectic cascade of genres in one set. Delitronica, Imported Goods and Dualism Records are a few of the many labels, nights and events affiliated with his name.

An MC, a promoter, a DJ, a restless soul and a nomad, he defines his home through music. His way of life depends gravely on where music adventures may lead him. When asked what is next, he nonchalantly, and coolly dismisses any sense of pressure in making that decision, in having the answer. He does not know. Yet he is open to the idea and driven by the energy of not knowing. It is music that will lead the way.

To follow his escapades -

www.djmocity.com

www.motellacast.com

www.the264cru.com

Instagram, Snapchat & Twitter @djmocity​

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Writer/Editor: @madradar​