On “The Man Who Lost His Heart,” Marwan Moussa Maps a Pathway Through Grief

The 23-track, deeply personal album confronts the death of the rapper’s mother, embedding the experience of depression and loss in an Egyptian cultural context.

Marwan Moussa performing on stage, wearing a black t-shirt and trousers with cartoon prints.

The album features collaborations with Afroto, Donia Wael, El Waili, Karim Osama, Hleem Taj Alser, and Lege-Cy.

Photo by Marwan Moussa

In the Arabic-speaking world, Marwan Moussa needs no introduction. The Egyptian German rapper and producer has dominated the rap scene for years, rising to fame for his hard-hitting bars and effortless flow. A man who enjoys bragadociousness and does it well, Moussa is the third most-streamed Arab rapper of all time and has received three All Africa Music Awards.

After losing his mother to illness in October 2023, Moussa did not listen to music for six months. Then, he returned with "3AMEL EH" (What do I do) in July 2024, on which he opens up to his therapist about his depression, inviting listeners into a journey of climbing out of the darkness.

Red light flickers behind Marwan Moussa performing on stage in a black t-shirt.

The Man Who Lost His Heart is Moussa’s most extensive and personal work yet.

Photo by Marwan Moussa

This week, Moussa revealed الرجل الذي فقد قلبه (The Man Who Lost His Heart), a conceptual framework for the introspective tracks he has been releasing. Throughout the album, the female voice we hear on "3AMEL EH" tells him that everyone deals with the same feelings in different ways. She introduces him to the five stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance - which he adopts as an artistic lens for the 23 tracks across five discs.


"I wanted to make a sad album, but I cannot say accurately what I was going through," Moussa tells OkayAfrica. "I was creating as I went and tried to fit songs into categories. Maybe creating these songs was therapeutic, but I cannot say accurately which stage I went through with which song."

Each disc has stylistic elements that bring Moussa's emotions to life. Denial sounds like string instruments and trap shaabi, a mix of dark trap beats over traditional Egyptian rhythms. Anger rises with Arabic scales and instruments like the Oud. "I felt like [anger] is a very Arab emotion and state," says Moussa. "It's how we express grief the most, especially as men."

His favorite track on the album, "TAQATO3," is on the anger disc. Starting rap-heavy, the track samples the iconic song "Shagar El Lamoon" by Egyptian singer Mohamed Mounir, before ebbing into a vibe that Moussa describes as "melancholic, somehow sad but euphoric."

Moussa wrote and recorded "TAQATO3" between Thailand and Los Angeles; the album came together in studios all over the world. "We just recorded in the places that we happened to be at, and we let it add color and flavors to the album, which I think added diversity to the songs," he says.

Bargaining heavily features the piano, the instrument Moussa associates with questioning. While the other discs have at least one feature, bargaining is the only emotional state he navigates completely alone. With track three of that disc, "Fahman Donya," he recently became the first Arabic-language rapper to perform on the global rap platform From The Block.

Depression is characterized by ambient, mournful textures. Moussa sings and bears his soul over simplistic, repetitive melodies that feature string instruments and the piano, carrying a distinguishable Egyptian rhythm that embeds the universal experience of loss in a specific cultural context.


Throughout the album, a male voice tells Moussa "hawil tiftikir" (try to remember), reminiscent of Kendrick Lamar’s use of voicenotes. However, Moussa did not have any musical influences for this project. "In the beginning, I thought that was a bad thing. Everything just came from the mind," he says. "But I hope that it will become more timeless because there are no musical reference points."

Acceptance closes the album with Moussa emerging on the other side. This disc is more playful, incorporating jazz piano, Afrobeats, and the assertion that he must keep trying. "[The album] is not about being sad or breaking up with someone. It's about losing someone who dies, specifically, "says Moussa. "I would love it if it helps someone navigate through a period of sadness. Like a map."

Now that he has revealed this deeply vulnerable and raw side of himself, will Moussa continue along this path? "I miss doing an ego song," he says and laughs. "I want to do music that makes me feel confident. That's what I love about classic rap: you say stuff, you feel cool, and it feels good. But that's not how I felt the past year, so I couldn't rap like that."

There's a common concern that Egyptian rap lost its authenticity when it became mainstream, and some voices mutter that the genre is dying out. Moussa agrees that rappers have not been at their best in recent years, but he has noticed a brooding resurgence.


"I think people will become more competitive in the next few months. The action is going to come back," he says. "I think we'll see some battles and hear music that feels like more time has been spent making it. I can feel it and am excited to be a part of it." The Man Who Lost His Heart, with its poignant lyricism and expertly crafted sonic layers, can spearhead a revival of vanguard Egyptian rap, should it actually be on its way.

​Photo illustration by Kaushik Kalidindi, Okayplayer.
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