Omid, known artistically as Safir, is an Iranian rapper, songwriter, and ideologist who has become a prominent figure in Iranian popular music and Persian rap over the past decade. He officially began his career as a member of ‘Cherik‘ label with the release of the song Pavaraghi in 2012. After parting ways with that label, he co-founded one of the most important labels in the history of Persian rap, called Melli, alongside Saeed Dehghan. Due to his academic background in dramatic literature, Safir pioneered a new wave of thought and expression in Persian rap. His work is marked by historical, cultural, social, and political themes related to Iran, Middle East, and the world, delivered with a poetic, dramatic, occasionally abstract, and unique perspective. Safir’s approach significantly expanded the vocabulary commonly used in Iranian popular music. Although the more recent period of Persian rap differs markedly from its earlier years, and we have seen the retirement or noticeable decline of most rappers from the previous generation, Safir has taken a different approach, reinventing himself and continuing to be one of the least controversial yet most successful Iranian rappers. So far, he has released two albums: Tafrigh in collaboration with Otagh Band in 2022 and Kandoo composed by Nima Aghiani in 2023. In addition, he has worked with a considerable number of Iranian musicians across various genres. In this interview, we discussed topics such as the characteristics of different periods in Persian rap, the current state of Persian rap, the potential future trajectory of Persian rap, the reasons behind the emergence of intellectual and cultured movements before the current era, the impact of audience expectations on current production, the goals behind founding the Melli label, the reasons for a lack of collaboration among artists with differing perspectives, the concept behind “Kandoo album, the rise of ‘Laat’ (thug) identity in Persian rap, the current state of art in Iran, and his sources of inspiration over the years.
I divide Persian rap into three distinct phases, each with its own unique characteristics: (1) the era of translation, imitation, and then redefining rap music in Iran, (2) the emergence of intellectualism and cultural refinement, and (3) the rise of modern Western models. In my view, Persian rap has largely passed through all three phases by now, and I feel that Iranian rappers are experiencing a widespread confusion, most of which stems from their inability to generate new ideas. What factors do you think have contributed to this?
Every artist, writer, rapper, and in general, anyone who creates something, shapes their worldview and thoughts through observations, listening, their environment, experiences, mental exchanges, and interactions with others. There are two stages of translation that occur in their mind: first, they translate their surroundings into what they understand and comprehend. Then, through the material they have consumed, they retranslate everything into a common language shared among the various communities they interact with, like the Persian rap scene, so they can communicate with them. In other words, they become a bridge between their environment and the world in which people are present through hip-hop culture. I believe that in the current phase of Persian rap, which you have named the “era of the rise of modern Western models,” Iranian rappers rely more so than ever on what they have seen and experienced through the internet. Consequently, because they lack a deep understanding of that environment, they often suffer from a kind of “translation error,” which results in them being unable to offer more than superficial content to others. In other words, the specific facts that can be found by browsing Instagram, YouTube, or any other community existing in Iran are merely set to music in rap. Therefore, I think the primary reason for this situation is the lack of connection between the two cultures—the one the rapper comes from and the one they want to talk about.
In your opinion, what features could the next phase of Persian rap have to break out of this flawed cycle?
The next phase of Persian rap will grow and expand out of this very era. Therefore, it will either become an antithesis and oppose the ideology of the current era, or a much more mature phase than the current one will emerge. In such a scenario, rappers will realize that the process of translation must be internal rather than external. In other words, they shouldn’t simply express exactly what they understand in their works.
What led to the collective tendency among Iranian rappers in the middle phase of Persian rap to focus heavily on poetry and deliberate complexity?
I believe that the dominant dialogue in society, through which people can communicate with each other, led to a collective inclination towards a shared model of literature, performance, beats, and more in Persian rap. For instance, mumble or trap songs were being released during that time as well, but the content conveyed through mumble or hardcore trap in that era also leaned toward the prevailing societal dialogue. As I mentioned earlier, people connect to this collective communication mechanism based on what they see, hear, and experience, and without a doubt, one of the most significant reasons for this trend is the dominant dialogue in society. It’s the kind of conversation you and I could have while sitting on a bench, discussing a topic that concerns us and is on our minds.
The golden generation of Persian rap, of which you were one of the key figures, dominated the image of Persian rap for years. With the decline of that era, many of its members now have contradictory opinions about the current phase of Persian rap. How much did you anticipate such significant changes in Persian rap back then?
I view generations, eras, names, and groups as brands—brands created or named by a few individuals, often to serve economic interests, promote a particular group, or inject excitement into their path. If we look at the names of the influential people and remove them from the label of “generation” or avoid categorizing them, we can say we expected such changes, and we anticipate more shifts in the future. For example, the minimal rap or cloud rap wave that has started globally will undoubtedly reach Iran soon. Since the rhythm of these sub-genres is beyond the conventional beats of Persian rap, they will gradually settle in and remain. As for the transformations we’ve seen, I believe that the shortcomings of the previous movement and its failure to engage in various dialogues have led to something completely opposite—or an antithesis—emerging and standing in opposition to it. For instance, I’m against terms like “underground” when it refers to street rap, independent rap, or intellectual rap because these concepts have distinct meanings from each other. Apart from a handful of rappers, almost everyone active in Persian rap is considered independent and underground. Therefore, I have no intention of categorizing Persian rap. This movement that has emerged today in Persian rap is precisely in opposition to the dominant dialogue of that time. When the prevailing taste of rappers back then was to avoid using English words, a new generation emerged that completely dismantled everything from the past. I always see myself as somewhere in between. The models I followed and the work I did were more focused on experimentation and creativity, which, in turn, were based on human emotions and life experiences. If we base our approach on life experience, I can’t refrain from using English words. Instead, I use English words that are common and part of everyday conversation in my works, and I never censor myself. This ensures that the audience doesn’t get lost between a objective or subjective, and abstract or documentary-like space. A prime example is “Quf,” who frequently uses English words in his songs but has delivered one of the most Iranian models of Persian rap.
What role do you think you and the “Melli” label played in the history of Persian rap?
I believe that after ‘Cherik,’ with ‘Melli,’ I was able to create a medium that had always been missing in Persian rap—a group that wrote minimalist lyrics to maximalist music, with the mindset that artists should blend into the people in society and, in fact, reflect their perspective. A clear example of this is Rokh, who has never revealed his face, and his lyrics are precisely influenced by the streets, which form the point of view of Melli. Additionally, Saeed Dehghan, as the composer of Melli, was initially an electronic music composer who transitioned into hip-hop. That’s why I think Melli, alongside Divar and Moltafet, are the only groups in the history of Persian rap whose structure and mindset were clearly defined. You can definitively say what they were doing. If someone today wants to follow their path, reference their works in their lyrics, or make adaptations, everyone understands that the sound and musical style belong to that particular group or label.
How much does Safir currently define his identity within the framework of Melli?
First of all, I must say that Melli was a shared framework for bringing people together to create music, people who had a common way of thinking about sound, lyrics, and philosophy. Since last year, Melli has almost disbanded. This was because we wanted the label to expand, allowing each member to work outside the framework of Melli and then return so that after a few years, we could come together again to create a more mature and dynamic version of it. I believe that I, as the character ‘Safir,’ have never defined myself within any specific framework. Different characters create various frameworks and structures to convey their inner dialogues to their audience using a shared language within a specific boundary. Undoubtedly, my current words don’t fit within the framework of Melli, but as a supportive partner, we are all standing by Melli to see what we can do with it in the future.
What exactly is today’s Persian rap audience looking for, and in general, what kind of product or character can satisfy them?
In fact, today’s audience no longer sees something called “Persian rap” because none of the elements that once defined Iranian hip-hop culture exist anymore, or they’ve become completely outdated—like graffiti, DJing, etc. Perhaps if these elements entered social media and competed with each other, they’d align with Persian rap, and rappers and producers would utilize this space, but for now, the audience has become more character-oriented, like web bloggers, it’s the lifestyle that attracts the audience, whether it’s conveyed through poetry or visuals.
What has been Safir’s best and worst decision in his professional career?
Both the best and worst decision I made was listening to the advice of my peers, who told me I needed to censor myself. As a result, my golden era was lost for the collective benefit of others. On the other hand, the best decision I made was not working, so I didn’t get in the way of anyone’s interests. However, if I were to reflect more deeply on this, I could say I never thought that my efforts would lead to me having a unique signature today, where my character still has something to say. Undoubtedly, this is the result of the small decisions I’ve made over the years.
The concept of generational transfer in Persian rap used to be very meaningful, and a clear example of this was “Sakhte Iran” by Quf. Why doesn’t this concept appear as it once did?
Unlike you, I don’t see Sakhte Iran album as a project for generational transfer. I view it as a “solidification of the previous path and an introduction to a new beginning,” not a “generational transfer.” At that time, those rappers were producing their works alongside Cherik, and we had various intellectual exchanges with each other. However, today, because characters and artists derive their credibility from sources other than their culture or from other artists, this occurs less frequently. If I were to do something like that now, it might result in something completely different and contradictory to the meaning it once had. In other words, in the current circumstances, this issue may reflect more of a “team-building” process than what you referred to as “generational transfer.”
Given these circumstances, what role can experienced artists play in advancing such a goal?
Nowadays, advertising and web blogging have taken up a significant part of social media. In this situation, the credibility that used to be passed down from generation to generation among artists has greatly diminished. It’s no longer necessary for new artists to create and release a song or album alongside more experienced artists. Instead, they can simply appear in certain scenes of a music video, or the concept that new rappers present in their works can testify to their presence on that specific path. The taste reflected in their lyrics alone can guarantee the generational transfer among rappers.
Among the new Iranian rappers, whose work do you like the most?
Hiphopologist, Because in his early works, he displayed an Iranian identity tied to underground culture and then decided to pursue his ambitious vision, without ever denying where he came from along the way. This approach is very admirable. Besides him, I’ve followed other new rappers, such as Hoodadk4, Farzad Ghadimi, and other artists working in the R&B genre.
At this very moment, thousands of young Iranians are deciding to step into the world of rap music. What advice do you have for them?
I’d only advise them to first and foremost develop a comprehensive and accurate understanding of Iranian culture, and even expand their listening resources to follow the cultures of other countries as well. Because if you only listen to Persian rap, you’ll unintentionally become, as they say, “wink underground.” And on the other hand, if you only listen to foreign works, you’ll become “mainstream.” Of course, all of these labels are just terms and don’t really hold much value—they don’t truly exist and are ultimately just brands.
Despite spending a lot of time producing the “Kandoo” album, based on the statistics from various music platforms, it seems like it didn’t receive the reception it deserved from Persian rap fans. What do you think caused this?
I agree with you that Kandoo wasn’t listened as much, but I don’t believe it failed in fulfilling its responsibility or purpose. In my opinion, Kandoo is like a documentary that translates all the recent events in Iran through metaphorical language and the creation of an imaginary world. It has become a platform for continuing to interpret the life of this society in its own language. In fact, this album feels like a platform that’s been translated into another language for speaking. I acknowledge that the audience’s engagement with this album wasn’t high, but haven’t we seen works that, after five years, start getting noticed and trending through various apps and platforms? I’m not claiming this album will trend, but I believe it can become a reference or source that people turn to in order to get a summary of the events that have passed over us.
You’re one of the few rappers who has largely adhered to a unique and specific formula in writing lyrics. What’s the reason behind this approach?
I believe every artist, writer, or rapper has a unique worldview and thought process, and the subjects they choose are based on their emotions, inner feelings, and experiences in their surroundings. Right now, I’ve reached a point where rapping feels like going to an office job—like I sit behind a desk, do my work, and finish it. In fact, during the pre-production phase, I spend a long time thinking about different aspects of a subject and gathering various materials, considering all dimensions of the work. Then, when the time comes, the writing and creation process begins. I’ve always followed my emotions, but I’ve written my songs with logic. For someone like me, the new paths that open up during the journey aren’t like diving into a new pool without thought, aiming to learn how to swim. Instead, I stand back and observe everything, allowing for growth with a broader perspective.
What have been the consequences of this writing style and its complexities for you?
The biggest challenge with this approach is that I’m slowly rebranding myself and giving the character of “Safir” a new identity. On the other hand, the positive side is that under these conditions, the new character remains much stronger and more resilient, rather than fading away as quickly as it appeared.
I see hip-hop culture, due to its characteristics, as largely tied to a passionate, energetic young audience, where even expressions of sorrow, pain, and protest are filled with vibrancy, excitement, and inherent tension. This seems to be the exact opposite of what you and many of your contemporaries were doing. It appears your approach may have limited resonance with this audience. What do you think about that?
If we focus specifically on the era you claim, when the audience of Persian rap leaned heavily toward the works produced by our generation, one of our characteristics was that we never declared what we were doing. Today’s rappers have emerged from that same environment but have chosen, as you said, to target precisely these younger, more enthusiastic audiences. This stems from their lack of experience. If their characters were more developed, they could never do what they’re doing now in the same way. Instead, to play a role in this structure, they would need to gradually build a new character. On the other hand, because of my musical experience, what I’m doing is completely at odds with the path of the new generation of Persian rap artists. As I mentioned earlier, if I want to move forward based on my emotions, I do so slowly and steadily. I think when I released the song Ghand, no one thought that a subject like sexual relations could be reimagined in this way in lyrics. So, you need to see what can be heard and understood from my character. I certainly can’t fill someone else’s place with existing words and materials. I do it in my own style, and you need to see how, for instance, in a collaboration with a new generation rapper, our lyrics and words would align. Therefore, comparisons between the approaches of different generations of Persian rap should be framed this way, so that eventually, this combination and fusion among rappers can happen.
In recent years, collaborations between Iranian rappers have become quite predictable. Why doesn’t the dialogue that once led to successful collaborations like Hichkas and Zedbazi form between rappers with seemingly different perspectives now?
I think many artists, despite understanding each other’s differing perspectives and thoughts, are eager to enter such a space for collaboration and eventually create a piece that reflects a combination of their emotions. Because a shared experience of any subject can lead to such collaborations. In my opinion, the main fear rappers have is only about the possible reaction of their fans and the potential tensions in the Persian rap scene that might rise against them. Meaning, after a potential collaboration, Persian rap fans from any side may take a stand against them.
Why did you choose rap as your music style, and why didn’t you pursue something related to your university studies (Dramatic Literature) or even cinema to express your art?
Because I was a rapper first, and then I decided to explore something new that would allow me to present my work with much better quality. The reverse has never happened for me.
In your era, it seems like there was a deliberate effort to distance from the ‘Laat (thug)’ image expected in hip-hop. The period before and after your generation clearly exhibits this image. What exactly was the character you intended to create?
I’m not speaking for “us.” I want to speak for myself. We had always distanced ourselves from the stereotypical ‘Laat’ character. There’s a mental image of rapper characters who usually choose this persona to strengthen the bond between themselves and their audience, fostering a sense of familiarity in the listener. So, the Laat behavior you mentioned was always aligned with the personal style of Safir in all my works. I believe this intentional behavior was aimed at returning to “self,” rather than reconstructing the established persona in society. But I think a rapper should be able to play different character roles within different structures. Therefore, we wanted to create exactly the character of “self.” That’s why now, among the new rappers, you might be able to name dozens with the exact Playboi Carti persona, but you can’t make such a claim about me.
Apart from Persian rap, how do you assess the current state of art in Iran in general?
I think the current state of art in Iran is completely “disconnected.” It’s as if everyone is living on an island they’ve created for themselves, thinking that creating art in this situation is possible. Of course, social media, and especially the YouTube community, have brought people together in some capacity so that they are at least seen in a shared space due to a few common points. However, if I were to look at this out of culture, I think that currently, art has become entirely individualistic, and as a result, it’s become very difficult to achieve a unified sound. I believe it’s the “creation of a shared message” that enables people to come together, not a shared sound. The sound must be entirely new for it to be attractive to the audience.
If you could own one of the works of Persian rap, which one would you choose?
I would definitely choose Nasakhe Noskhe by Hiphopologist. Because it clearly marks a boundary between the old world and the new world that Persian rap is about to experience. Of course, I could choose other works from different periods of Persian rap that are significant for various reasons, like Zir o Bam e Zirzamin by Quf, Jangale Asphalt by Hichkas, Shahrvand by Rez, and so on. But if I had to choose one from among the works of newer artists, without a doubt, that would be my pick, especially for its first verse.
If you could go back, with your current knowledge, would you still become a rapper?
If I had the chance to go back, with my current knowledge, I would definitely become a rapper again. But I would work much harder. The events that happened in my personal life led to my inactivity during that period. Now I know that all those things were solvable and didn’t really disrupt my progress as much as I thought. But it was me who overthought those matters too much.
What was your main source of inspiration for creating works in different periods?
My main source of inspiration in different periods has been charismatic rappers in various cultures. But Iranian poetry books and contemporary children’s stories are also sources of inspiration for me. I don’t follow any specific ideology except for life and being human, not “humanity.” And I think this perspective is a great source of inspiration for doing the things I love. Additionally, I’ve always combined painting with my works, always examining the works of different painters, and I’ve tried to convey the message the artist intended to express without words, but in a different format.