A Celebration of Dunya: Mustafa the poet
What Good is a Heart That Won’t Break?
WRITTEN BY HUNTER PETCH
“Both our eyes are red / But you’re high, and I’m crying / You’re trying to forget /, But it hits me every time”.
In an era decorated with flashy, overproduced, and at times, templatic endeavours, it’s inspiring to see a gentle folk album like Dunya have such a profound impact.
Mustafa has been nothing short of brilliant since his initial public debut as a young poet. Growing up in the Regent Park area of the GTA, his delicate choice of words always seems to flawlessly mirror the feelings of not only himself, but his peers residing in the same neighbourhood. No matter the format, his writing is among the most compassionate in the world. There are very few artists under 30 who can voice their experiences with such an emotionally knowledgeable perspective as he can.
The death of upwards of 20+ in his community, his brother included, caused justifiable distance from the place he once called home. “I actually feel most inferior when I’m in Toronto, like, I actually don’t know if the city makes any space for me at all (Mustafa, Toronto Star, 2024).” One of these tragedies involved his late friend and Toronto artist Smoke Dawg, who was murdered in 2018. This sparked Mustafa’s initial 2021 release, When Smoke Rises, which surprised listeners with his comforting, beautiful takes on grief. Influenced by Joni Mitchell as much as by Chief Keef, Mustafa’s sound blends folk textures within the context of his brutal upbringing in Toronto. If his Regent Park days had any upside at all, it would be the angle he’s able to access songwriting as an artist, being one that none other can achieve. “A bottle of lean / A gun in your jeans, and a little faith in me” isn’t a common lyric to be heard by a Justin Vernon or Adrianne Lenker-esque character, yet it remains equally touching and well-presented. When Smoke Rises was no doubt an impressive release, and is easily one of the best singer/songwriter projects to come out in the 2010s. The follow-up was bound to be a large leap for Mustafa, as long as his mournful tone and intense attention to detail were not going to be compromised. Needless to say, he did not differ from expectations.
Just as midnight passed on September 27th, I pressed play on Dunya for the first time. Sitting on the couch in my apartment, the Spotify app on my PlayStation 5 was the conduit for this first venture into what I would soon come to learn is my favourite album of 2024. I impatiently passed on the previously released 5 singles, eager to experience the 7 new ones as soon as humanly possible. Although I enjoyed “What happened, Mohamed?”, “What Good is a Heart?” was the initial cut of the new releases that reeled me in. “The love that you give is the love you should take / What good is a heart that will not break?” acted as an immediate invitation for reflection. If Dunya is a world of its own, “What Good is a Heart?” is its gravity, holding it together to sum up such evocative ideals in a mature, thoughtful manner.
My second listen occurred directly after waking up the next day, as I had realized there was a lot more to unpack here than I had imagined. I took a walk around the streets of Toronto to fully appreciate the album in its entirety, risking the possibility of a public meltdown of some sort. Nonetheless, I began the journey through Dunya again. I was captivated. Not only has Mustafa built upon his foundations as an artist (which were already sturdy to begin with), but he raised the bar so far past expectations that he composed a benchmark in Canadian music. I was, and still am, struck by the sheer quality of every single song. The choice for singles must have been easily interchangeable, everyone being in the same condition. “Beauty, end”, “Hope is a Knife”, and “Name of God” are currently the most personally rotated.
I’ve since listened to Dunya dozens of times in full. An album so deeply rooted in faith, grief, devastation, ironically, has made me wildly enlightened creatively and emotionally. Mustafa continues to ask questions that evoke moments of philosophical pensiveness for his listeners, myself included. I haven’t felt this drawn to constant re-listening to a project in years.
Thank you, Mustafa.
