Shoegaze from Egypt: FHMY on the Cairo Underground, the Loss of Childhood, and American Football

A grain-heavy photograph of a small child posing with a cigarette is the first thing that halts you, floating on a screen before you even press play on FHMY’s The World You Grew Up In No Longer Exists. A friend sent me the album in 2025 with a simple description: “Egyptian shoegaze.” The image lingered longer than the tag. It scratched at something half-buried, summoning a nostalgia that wasn't even mine.

The record marks the stunning debut full-length from FHMY, a solo project born in Cairo, whose creator doesn’t want you to know his face; he wants you to remember your own life instead. The moniker is a play on his actual last name (Fahmy), a small joke about online aliases and a refusal to let image outsell the music. Entirely self-taught, FHMY grew up playing bass within the prog and death metal genres before learning songwriting through Guitar Pro and YouTube.

The title came from scrolling through Instagram posts of people mourning their childhoods, and FHMY became interested in why so many people seemed trapped in nostalgia. His conclusion wasn't that the past was inherently better, but that the present had become increasingly alienating: public spaces commercialized, communities monetized, and everyday experiences placed behind paywalls. The album is a reflection of the material conditions we live in, filtered through FHMY's emotional lens, and a reminder that it's okay to be misanthropic and show it.

Naturally, I wanted to know about that cover. The photograph shows FHMY as a child holding a cigarette given to him by his uncle. “My brother and uncle would give me cigarettes to pose with when I was young,” he recalls. “I remember scenes of Scarface playing in the background. That image always stayed with me.” The story behind the photograph only reinforces one of the album's central ideas. Even the cover art stands as an intimate family artifact tied to a specific domestic timeline—a singular moment that exists entirely outside the reach of capitalist extraction, refusing to be packaged, sold, or turned into content.

Written between 2020 and 2024 in a room in Cairo and recorded over the course of a year with Memphis Records, the album features more than twenty collaborators from Egypt, Venezuela, the United States, and the United Kingdom. Its influences range from Burial and Mogwai to Slowdive, Planning for Burial, American Football, and Toe. In this interview, FHMY talks about the commercial extraction of Cairo's underground subcultures, the surreal geography of a metropolis that is simultaneously the noisiest and quietest place on earth, the tragedy of losing a community to emigration, and why he refuses to let his music be swallowed by a scene.

When I was writing the album, I kept thinking about how the world I grew up in was very different from the one I live in now, and that's where the name came from. Reflecting on it a year and a half after the release, I realize I thought I was mourning my childhood and the nostalgia surrounding it

There’s very little information about you online. Who is FHMY, and what is your musical background?

I kind of like people knowing little about me; I don't like my face plastered around my music. I hope when people hear the name FHMY, they remember their own personal experiences through my work, rather than my face. Too many people online use their body and image to promote their music, when it should be the opposite.

FHMY is just my last name without the A (FAHMY). It's my own little joke about people who use aliases online, haha.

What does the acronym FHMY stand for, and what made it the perfect moniker for this project?

As for what FHMY actually is, it's my solo project. I'm originally a bassist who grew up on a lot of prog and death metal, but I ended up teaching myself songwriting—mainly through learning Guitar Pro and watching YouTube. I have no formal music education of any kind.

The point of FHMY is to be true to myself. FHMY is me, and I am not static. I am not confined to a project name where I am expected to make a certain type of music. By using my own name, I can create whatever music I want without being boxed into a specific image or emotion that stems from having an alias.

How would you describe the music you make in your own words?

A reflection of the material conditions we live in, filtered through my own emotional lens. It's a reminder that it's okay to be misanthropic, and that you shouldn't be afraid to show it.

It was then that I truly realized intellectually that it's a terrible world to live in. It's not just the wars and potential social upheavals that can destroy our personal worlds in seconds, but rather the fact that we have been turned into mere units in a larger consumerist machine that can never be stopped.

Your Bandcamp lists Cairo as your location. What does the alternative and underground music scene look like there right now? What kind of sounds are dominating the local subcultures, and where does a project like yours fit in?

There are some really cool alternative scenes in Cairo—whether it's indie, jazz, or electronic—that deserve international recognition for what they bring to the table. Unfortunately, when something gets recognized, or whenever the system deems a certain underground music style as the "new thing," the system and its individuals like to hijack it for their own consumerist benefit. It is especially funny that the very same people who hijack it—the unconscious agents of said system—are completely aware that everything is becoming too compartmentalized, too closed off, controlled, and commercialized.

And then you have the supposedly "non-commercial" side: private circles, referral-only events, curated invitations, and closed groups calling themselves "collectives" where people are "free" to collaborate, as long as it's useful, profitable, or socially valuable to the right people. It's just another Kafkaesque nightmare dressed up as cultural freedom.

Let’s talk about your album The World You Grew Up In No Longer Exists—it is a deeply compelling piece of work. Where did this evocative title come from, and what was the overarching concept or emotional headspace behind the record?

When I was writing the album, I kept thinking about how the world I grew up in was very different from the one I live in now, and that's where the name came from.

Reflecting on it a year and a half after the release, I realize I thought I was mourning my childhood and the nostalgia surrounding it, but I believe I am actually mourning "the third place." Everything used to be more accessible without monetary incentives. Now, everything is behind a paywall. Public parks, or even just a place to walk, can be logistically inaccessible to most people living in Cairo now.

What's the point of running a marathon when you need a car just to get to it? What is the point of celebrating "community" when the community space is ticketed, sponsored, branded, and only reachable by people who already have access? What is the point of calling something a "public space" when the public can no longer afford to exist there?

The album has such a heavy and apocalyptic title. Where did that phrase come from, and what does it mean to you personally?

Honestly, exactly where it came from is a mystery to me. I just remember seeing so many Instagram posts of people mourning their childhoods. The question for me became, "Why?" Why are we mourning our childhoods, and why can't we live like that anymore? Surely, having jobs and paying bills isn't the sole reason. People have always worked. People have always carried responsibilities. That alone cannot explain this collective grief.

But then I discovered that, for me personally, the album title evokes a revelation regarding the contradictions of this society. It’s not because our childhood conditions were viewed through rose-tinted glasses, but more about what made the conditions of having a childhood possible back then. Maybe we are not looking back because our childhood was relatively peaceful, but rather because our present is severely hostile.

It was then that I truly realized intellectually that it's a terrible world to live in. It's not just the wars and potential social upheavals that can destroy our personal worlds in seconds, but rather the fact that we have been turned into mere units in a larger consumerist machine that can never be stopped.

What was the actual writing and recording process like for this album? Did you handle everything yourself as a DIY project, and what musical or artistic touchstones were influencing you at the time?

"Egyptian Football" and "The World You Grew Up In No Longer Exists" were mostly written in my room between 2020 and 2021. I then wrote "memoriesyouwillneverfeelagain" in 2022, which made me realize I had something much larger on my hands. I brought in my good friend Aly Amr to help me; I gave him a demo, and he wrote the guitar for "memories" so beautifully that I told him not to change a single thing. After a few introductions, I connected with Memphis Records and established a very friendly relationship with the founder, Ibrahim Tolba, whom I credit as one of the most helpful and well-adjusted people in the Egyptian music industry. I used their awesome recording room, and recorded the album over the span of a year. Along the way, I collaborated with a lot of people in Egypt, Venezuela, the US, and the UK who helped bring this to life. I am truly grateful to each and every person who worked on this project. It is almost insane to think that more than 20 people helped bring it to life.

Most of my listening at the time consisted of Burial, Mogwai, Slowdive, Planning for Burial, American Football, and Toe, if I remember correctly.

The album artwork is quite striking and intense. What is the story behind that specific image, and given its provocative nature, have you experienced any backlash or censorship for using it?

Thankfully, I received no backlash for it. That was a cigarette my uncle—God rest his soul—gave to me. I found it resonated with me when I was looking for an album cover. My brother and uncle would give me cigarettes to pose with when I was young, and I remember scenes of Scarface playing in the background, so it struck a chord within me.

The album opens with a track titled “Egyptian Football.” Is this an intentional, tongue-in-cheek nod to the legendary midwest emo band American Football, or is there a completely different story behind the name?

Honestly, yeah, it was completely intentional. I wanted to give a shout-out to American Football for changing the trajectory of my musical life. I even sent the track to Steve Lamos, and he really liked it!

When people think of Egyptian math rock or shoegaze, they always want something that is explicitly ingrained in our traditional culture, and I've always seen that as a very reductionist view of us.

The second track, “memoriesyouwillneverfeelagain,” feels heavy and nostalgic. Can you tell me about the emotional idea behind that song? There also seems to be a sample of a Russian poem — where did that come from, and why did it feel important to include?

"Memories" was written right after a massive breakup I had with an ex at the time. It’s a modern rendition of the book Don Quixote—a knight who held very trivial, romanticized views of the world, but when exposed to reality, only found tragedy, death, and what the world actually was. In the process, he fell in love with Dulcinea. In that context, Dulcinea was an imaginary concept he projected onto a woman to drown out the reality around him. Unfortunately, it only amplified the material conditions surrounding him: poverty, war, etc.

The Russian sample at the end is from the movie The Mirror by Andrei Tarkovsky. It’s a poem called "Life, Life," which is about an acceptance of everything around us and the cyclical nature of life and death. It resonated with me so much that I thought it would be the perfect ending for "my character" in the song.

What is your favorite song on the album and why?

I think "memoriesyouwillneverfeelagain" is my best work lyrically, but I think "The World You Grew Up In No Longer Exists" is my favorite. It’s a sudden instrumental track on the album that people didn't expect, and the purpose of it was to give people space to think and reflect on, well, everything.

How has your Egyptian identity and upbringing in Cairo influenced the emotional or sonic landscape of The World You Grew Up In No Longer Exists? Do you feel like there is a specific kind of melancholy, longing, or perspective unique to your background that naturally bleeds into the atmosphere of your music?

When people think of Egyptian math rock or shoegaze, they always want something that is explicitly ingrained in our traditional culture, and I've always seen that as a very reductionist view of us. Nonetheless, Cairo has definitely had a huge impact on me. It is simultaneously the noisiest and the quietest city in the world. The noise just depends on how much you are willing to shut things out, of course.

Cairo has changed; the walks and things I used to enjoy with my mom and dad can now only be enjoyed if you have the money for it. You turn on the TV and watch news anchors talk about Egypt progressing as an economy, while you see nothing but ecological decay and economic misery on the actual streets. The only thing that kept me sane was being with my friends, whom I am now losing because they are finding opportunities abroad—only to give up and have to work abroad myself...

Since Tape Wounds is an independent, space-unlimited publication, we love to give artists total freedom to share their stories. Are there any hidden anecdotes, secret field recordings, or interesting details about the making of this album that your fans haven’t heard yet?

In the intro of "Do Humans Dream of Electric Sheep," I sampled Deus Ex: Human Revolution and the System Shock antagonist, SHODAN.

In the intro of "memoriesyouwillneverfeelagain," Aly Amr is actually humming the guitar melody, but no one has spotted it yet!

Also, Ali Refai—an amazing musician who recorded the solo for "Chery! Oh Chery!"—told me "Fuck you" more than five times while recording the demo!

Who are the most exciting alternative and underground artists from Egypt right now that Tape Wounds readers should absolutely be listening to?

Ali Refai, hands down, should be the next big thing in the music scene. I also highly recommend Martina, Earlobe, Luka we el bateekh, Belal Ali, Hadi Birjakli, Kiiko, and Nadine El Deib. They are all incredible active artists who deserve their own giant stage.