In 2008, Anas Ibn Malek Abid opened the Mediterranean Guitar Festival alone on stage. The moment followed a failed performance the previous year, which he describes as “a total disaster,” and became a turning point in the way he understood himself as a musician. “From that point on, I became known as the guitarist who performed alone on stage,” he says. “Looking back, I think my identity was built that night.”
That identity has since expanded across solo releases and projects including AIM Project, EnomaE, SamJna, AIM Trio, and N.A.S.S., moving between progressive metal, modern metal, jazz, groove metal, grunge and Middle Eastern influences.
His latest EP, Escape Velocity, continues that approach through instrumental pieces shaped by emotion, structure and atmosphere. In this interview, Abid looks back on Tunisia’s heavy music scene in the late 2000s, the challenges of building music with limited resources, and the experiences in Tunisia, France and the US that helped define his sound.
“Stepping out alone was a natural decision because I could not really find bandmates to play with and connect with both humanly and musically.”
You became the first rock artist to perform as a solo act in Tunisia back in 2008. When you look at that moment now, what do you remember about the climate around heavy and instrumental music there, and what pushed you to step out alone in that way?
That’s an interesting question. To put things in context, I had actually auditioned for that same festival the year before and had the opportunity to perform live. It was even broadcast live on national radio. A couple of days before the show, the pressure got to me, and my performance ended up being a total disaster. So, in a way, the 2008 edition was personal revenge for me. I came back with a lot of fury and passion, practiced twice as hard, and presented two original compositions from my first official demo. I had much more confidence at that time.
Stepping out alone was a natural decision because I could not really find bandmates to play with and connect with both humanly and musically. At the same time, I still wanted to play my music on stage, with no other goal than showing that I had evolved and that nothing could prevent me from doing it. At the time, the heavy scene was genuinely blooming, but there were no instrumental artists apart from jazz and blues musicians. It was also very complicated to find a rehearsal space, and venues often asked artists to pay in advance just to perform.
When I opened the Mediterranean Guitar Festival in 2008, the reaction from the crowd was incredible. Yes, I did realize at that moment that something historic was happening, at least for me. From that point on, I became known as the guitarist who performed alone on stage. Looking back, I think my identity was built that night.
“I do not consciously try to mix genres. I simply fall into the rabbit hole of the writing process.”
Your music brings progressive metal, modern metal, jazz, and Middle Eastern influences into the same frame. When you start writing a piece, what tells you that a song has found its own identity?
Indeed, I guess it is linked to the fact that I grew up listening to all of these genres and styles, and that is still the case today. To be honest, I let the inspiration flow naturally without trying to add something that would feel “weird” to me or overcompensate for something “missing.”
Most of the time, it starts with a guitar riff or a melody that I cannot get out of my head while jamming or even while waiting for the stem tracks of a completed song to export [he laughs]. I guess I know that a song has found its own identity as soon as it provokes a very specific emotion in me, whether it is joy, melancholy, tension, or all three and more from beginning to end.
I do not consciously try to mix genres. I simply fall into the rabbit hole of the writing process. Those influences appear wherever the original idea emotionally wants to go. For example, on “The Gaze That Sees” from my latest EP Escape Velocity, I came up with that twisted, dissonant riff for the intro and then a simple but groovy riff for the verse. I could have stayed harmonically “safe,” but I felt that going for a more jazzy and dissonant sound in the lead sections would serve the song better, and it came naturally that way.
Sometimes that emotion is difficult to name precisely. Take “Nothing Lasts” from the EP, for example. It is an instrumental power ballad, and it gives me that particular feeling of navigating between peace of mind and tragedy, especially during the main solo. There is a kind of resignation in it, which is exactly what the title reflects. There are no words behind it, just the guitar carrying everything.
I rarely resist inspiration, but there is always a moment, especially during the arrangement stage, when I realize enough is enough and that adding anything else would weigh the whole thing down. Knowing when to stop is also part of the song’s identity. The identity of the song dictates which part of my musical vocabulary gets “invited” in, not the other way around.
You describe your guitar work in a narrative way, with each composition carrying its own emotional path. With Escape Velocity, what story or inner movement were you trying to follow from the first idea to the finished track?
You are right. Honestly, I did not really start with a fully mapped out story. The title came at some point during the process, but the music itself led the way. Nevertheless, that particular piece felt like it had a very clear inner movement, and it reflects my “sound” in some ways. It opens in a somewhat atmospheric place with a very melancholic harmonized theme. Then it breaks apart abruptly and shifts into something heavier and faster.
I brought the opening theme back at the end, almost like we went on a journey and returned to the starting point with a different perspective after navigating through various moods and emotional worlds. I actually used that same process for the closing tracks of my four instrumental solo albums, but this time I decided to open the EP with it instead.
I did not have a specific “story” inspiring me, but the music itself wrote the story and inspired the title Escape Velocity. I think it is also influenced by theater and cinema. I studied both a long time ago, and I picture most of my songs in that way. It is quite conceptual, and people can visualize the emotions I try to convey through the riffs and melodies, almost like scenes unfolding in a cinematic piece or a three or four act tragedy. Like many songs I have written, this one seemed to know where it was going before I even did.
“What keeps everything recognizably mine is the way I build choruses and melodies, especially the riffing.”
You have built a large body of work across your solo releases and projects like AIM Project, EnomaE, SamJna, AIM Trio, and N.A.S.S. What changes from one outlet to another, and what keeps all of it recognisably yours?
Indeed. I guess each project responds to a different emotional need. My solo work and projects like AIM Project and SamJna, which is an Indian word meaning “perception,” allow me to explore more nuanced and narrative driven compositions where the structure can breathe and unfold across different moods and worlds.
I grew up listening to nu metal and grunge bands, and those genres still mean a lot to me. So projects like AIM Project, SamJna, and N.A.S.S. are also a tribute to the music that shaped me throughout the years. It feels very natural for me to write in those styles, almost like returning to something familiar. I feel the need to focus on riffing and big choruses that stay in your head, because sometimes emotions cannot be conveyed through lead guitar alone and vocals become necessary.
At the beginning, I worked with vocalists I knew from the Tunisian metal community, such as Mehdi Brahem, who sang on a couple of AIM Project tracks in the early days. Eventually, though, I decided to take things into my own hands. EnomaE started when a drummer I met through a mutual friend in Toulouse asked me whether I would be interested in creating a groove metal project. Eventually, things did not move forward, but I had already written songs that I did not want to abandon. I needed an outlet for something heavier, more aggressive, and more dissonant, while still keeping a pop influenced sensibility in the choruses. That contrast creates an interesting tension to navigate.
What changes from one project to another is the set of rules I give myself. I make a conscious effort to respect the codes of each genre, not overloading the structure, going straight to the point when needed, and keeping things more direct and simple. The writing process stays the same, but the framework changes.
What keeps everything recognizably mine is the way I build choruses and melodies, especially the riffing. My guitar tone and drum production also remain consistent across all my projects. I produce everything myself, and I have been working with the same mixing engineer, Daniel Thabet at Liquid Studios in Vermont, for more than fifteen years now. That relationship brings a real sonic continuity to everything I release, even when the genres are completely different.
“In Tunisia, around 2006 to 2008, the conditions were tough. There were no proper rehearsal spaces and no quality gear, especially for left handed guitarists like me. In a way, though, that forced me to become creative with very little.”
You have worked across Tunisia, France, and the US, and your sound carries something deeply personal while still feeling open to different places and listeners. How has that movement between scenes shaped the way you hear your own music today?
I think each place taught me something fundamentally different, and together they shaped not only my sound but my entire approach to making music. In Tunisia, around 2006 to 2008, the conditions were tough. There were no proper rehearsal spaces and no quality gear, especially for left handed guitarists like me. In a way, though, that forced me to become creative with very little, sharpen my technique, work harder with less, and focus entirely on what my hands and ears could do. That foundation made everything that came afterward much easier to build upon.
Moving to France opened a completely different door. I got the opportunity to meet and tour with musicians who challenged me and helped me evolve my sound. Since I was working with session musicians, I had to cover all the touring costs myself, but that independence also pushed me to learn how to produce my own music and take complete ownership of my work. It is also where the endorsement opportunities came, giving me access to better tools and a certain credibility within the industry.
Then working with Daniel Thabet at Liquid Studios in Vermont brought another layer entirely. After my second solo album and AIM Project’s first EP, which were both critically well received, I still felt that I could improve production wise. I needed to find someone I could trust to take things further. That is when I started working with Daniel, and it is through that collaboration that I truly learned how to professionalize the way I record and arrange my songs. Over more than fifteen years of collaboration, he has helped me translate what is in my head into something sonically consistent and refined, regardless of the genre or project.
Musically, I do not feel like I come from one specific place. I feel like the sum of all of them.
Stream Escape Velocity by Anas Ibn Malek Abid on Bandcamp.
