Image via Rhianna Hajduch
Ross Olson is still waiting on that Folk Implosion “natural One” mixed with “Stupid Girl” by Garbage mash-up.
When I met Dua Saleh before their show at the storied Roxy Theater in late January, the Hughes Fire burned 30 miles north and already claimed over 10,000 acres of land. By this point we were just two weeks into the cataclysmic firestorm that decimated the Los Angeles coastline and the northeast foothills. The cumulative physical and psychological impact remains immeasurable. Family homes, irreplaceable possessions, and years of history all reduced to ash.
Climate destruction hits close to home for Saleh, who, as a teenager growing up in Minneapolis, organized community efforts centered on environmental justice.This context adds weight to the apocalyptic I Should Call Them, Saleh’s debut LP from last October. The album follows two estranged lovers who race to rekindle their romance and make amends before the Doomsday clock expires. Across 11 tracks, Saleh uses toxic behavior in relationships to comment on collective negligence toward the Earth.
Over a soundscape of futuristic R&B, celestial funk, and anthemic pop, Saleh offers a masterclass in vocal elasticity. On “pussy suicide,” Saleh alternates vocal inflections with ease, slotting in raspy one-liners with breezy, swaggering melodies. Closing track “2excited” marks the moment the Earth swallows itself whole, with Saleh’s guttural wails descending against black metal and free jazz.
Saleh’s artful grasp of language can be traced back to their Sudanese roots. Born during the country’s Second Civil War, Saleh and their family fled to Eritrea where they spent time in a refugee camp. It was there Saleh encountered spoken word recited among the displaced to tell stories and pass down generational truths. Saleh describes Sudanese natives as naturally poetic in their dialect and how they verbalize Islamic text. Music was also a guiding force. The 30-year-old proudly points to women in their family who sing, play drums, and stringed instruments like oud.
After immigrating to the United States at age five, Saleh settled in the Rondo neighborhood of Saint Paul, Minnesota. In their senior year of high school, Saleh began performing poetry at open mic nights, garnering the attention of local publisher Button Poetry. But Saleh became burdened by the expectation for continuously solemn material, and music represented a more freeing alternative.
Singing a cappella at poetry jams and experimenting with melodies led to Saleh recording demos on their phone, uploading them to SoundCloud at the behest of friends. Their debut single “First Take” caught the attention of local producer Psymun, who helped Saleh put together their EP Nūr in 2019.
In the years since, Saleh has emerged as an important voice operating outside the mainstream. They spotlight issues that make people feel seen, from anti-queer rhetoric and identity confusion to refugee support and violence against women in their home country. Talking to Saleh, they speak with the knowledge and maturity gained through tumultuous life experiences. But they don’t wield it to gloat. They view it as a gift to emphasize and spread understanding.
I caught up with Saleh to talk about their new album, pre-show nerves, writing and performing poetry, their role in Sex Education, and the Earth’s climate crisis.