London’s genre-smashing mad scientist, Mostafa Al—the Iraqi-born wizard behind Sheykh Forever—isn’t playing nice with a track that’s brain-melting groove and against-the-machine attitude. “Sleeping Dogs,” the latest slab of audacious funk-rock, doesn’t just slap—it punches. Following the politically charged fire of last month’s “Run for Cover,” this new cut raises the heat to infernal levels, blending disco’s glitter, rock’s raw muscle, and funk’s greasy swagger into a riotous anthem for the disillusioned.
Mostafa Al, the one-man army writing, producing, and shredding through this chaos, is a sonic alchemist. His obsession with analog grit bleeds into every note here. Recorded in his home studio, “Sleeping Dogs” is a Frankenstein’s monster of vintage hardware, its veins buzzing with tube-amp warmth and tape-saturated soul. The bassline? Thicker than a London fog, oozing like Funkadelic on a bender. The guitars? Sharp riffs that slice through the mix like a switchblade. And those vocals—part preacher, part punk—snarl with a urgency that’s impossible to ignore.
Now, don’t go thinking this is just another “fight the power” tune. “Sleeping Dogs” tells the story of a man clawing free from war-mongering propaganda, a fist-pumping rejection of being cannon fodder for someone else’s greed. The track’s hypnagogic indie-pop undertones add a trippy contrast, like dancing through a riot in slow motion. Let’s talk gear, because this track reeks of analog devotion. Mostafa’s obsession with vintage tech isn’t just aesthetic—it’s visceral. The vocals are drenched in just enough tape distortion to feel dangerous, while the drums hit with the earthy thud of a ’70s breakbeat. Even the synths, slithering beneath the funk-rock chaos, sound like they’ve been resurrected from a forgotten crate of disco vinyl.
If “Sleeping Dogs” is this lethal on record, imagine it live: a wall of analog noise, Mostafa commanding the stage like a funky warlord, and a crowd screaming every word back like their lives depend on it. It’s a Molotov cocktail of funk, rock, and rebellion. Sheykh Forever isn’t here to play; he’s here to burn down the bondage. Let the bassline rattle your bones, and join the fight. Because if this is what the future of rock sounds like, consider the bar obliterated.