Tariq El Azaly describes his work in practical terms: jingles, film scores, electronic music, voiceovers.

But speak to him for more than a minute and something else comes through: a kind of craft-oriented defiance. "Electronic dance music was my starting point," he says, "and I enjoy blending it with Arabic music to create something innovative and authentic."

He is not a purist. Nor is he trying to be one. His sound design choices often lead him into hybrid spaces where tradition and experimentation are less in conflict than in conversation. "I merged EDM drums instead of the usual acoustic drums in an Arabic rock song," he says.

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"It created a unique fusion I had never heard before."

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Working across Cairo and Dubai, Tariq’s influences reflect both chaos and precision. He operates in what might be described as cultural stereo. "Music transcends boundaries," he explains. "I aim to create music that resonates with everyone, no matter their culture."

There is a tendency to flatten producers into the background of creative projects. El Azaly has no such interest in staying anonymous. "I have a vault of personal musical sketches that inspired me to bring some to life by singing them myself," he says. Then comes the kicker: "Everyone can sing. It is not about a perfect voice, but the story and emotion behind the song."

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That philosophy might terrify classical purists, but it is also, oddly, populist. His production ethos is built less on performance and more on relatability. Art, to him, is not a one-way spectacle but a shared terrain.

The song "Mareed Bel Gad3ana," which he produced for the artist Memz, did not originate from his own experience. It came from a friend’s story. "When she heard the song, she cried," he recalls.

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"In that moment, I knew I had captured her emotions."

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It is not often a producer uses mare (emotion) and gad3ana (a deeply Egyptian concept of loyalty and courage) in the same breath. But that might be the closest thing to a res firma in Tariq El Azaly’s world: emotion rooted in cultural specificity.

That specificity, however, does not trap him. Genre, he believes, should behave like clay, not stone. "Musical genre labels can be limiting," he says. "I prefer making music with complete freedom."

Even in brand collaborations, that latitude holds. Having worked with companies like Orange Egypt, he believes in the creative value of constraint. "My job is to perfect their idea while preserving the creative identity they already appreciate."

Pop culture has its own graveyard of jingle disasters, but Tariq has managed to avoid that fate by leading with intent.

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"The key is balancing the project’s purpose with artistry that resonates deeply."

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He is, in a way, the anti-Algorithm. "Early in my career, I overcomplicated a track, and it did not resonate," he says. "It taught me to balance creativity with simplicity and prioritize the audience’s perspective."

The idea that anyone can sing might read like Instagram optimism, but it underscores his point about connection. Tariq avoids the illusion of perfection and focuses instead on creating work that resonates emotionally.

He dreams of collaborating with top-tier EDM artists not because he wants to prove something, but to expand. "My upcoming album features talented artists from around the world," he says.

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"But I dream of collaborating with EDM’s biggest names to elevate my craft."

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According to a 2022 IFPI report, the global electronic music market is expected to grow by 7.3% annually. El Azaly’s focus remains on long-term artistic potential rather than the short cycle of trend.

What he wants long-term is simple: when someone hears a track, they know it is a Tariq El Azaly production. "I want to be recognized as a true artist who writes, produces, and sings, driven by a deep passion for music and the emotions it conveys."

For now, he continues to compose from that vault—the place where his sketches live and breathe, waiting for the next track to demand a voice.