Kurdish + Dutch = CHAMOS: The DJ Duo Blending Two Worlds Into One Sound

by Alexandra Mansilla

Kurdish + Dutch = CHAMOS: The DJ Duo Blending Two Worlds Into One Sound

14 Apr 2025

What happens when a Dutch guy obsessed with music meets a Kurdish guy who feels the same? The answer is pretty clear: you get an incredible duo. They go by the name CHAMOS, which means "friends" in Venezuelan Spanish.

Why CHAMOS? Because that is exactly what they are. Friends — since school days.

So, what kind of music do they make? Their sound is a reflection of who they are: a vibrant mix of cultures. And that mix is what makes it so powerful. Their latest EP, "From Erbil to Amsterdam," is proof of that — a sonic exploration of how different cultures can coexist, overlap, and speak to each other. A story of duality told through sound.

Who are CHAMOS really? How did it all begin? What did their early sound sound like — and how has it evolved? And where did the idea for this EP come from?

Let’s find out.

— Hey guys! First, I would love for each of you to tell me a bit about yourselves and what came before CHAMOS.

Shalouw: Hi! So, my name is Shalouw, and I am originally from Kurdistan, the Iraqi part. I moved to the Netherlands with my parents in 2000. That is really where life began for me — growing up, going to school, all the usual things.

Back then, I didn’t really realise that I wanted to pursue music. It wasn’t something I was consciously aware of. But music was always present — at home, in the car. Whenever we went on picnics, there was always a sort of party atmosphere on the bus. And it was always a bus, because my family’s quite large. There was music playing constantly. It became a big part of my upbringing.

Guido: I was born and raised in a small town called Elst. It is a pretty small village, located between Arnhem and Nijmegen. I went to school in Arnhem, and it is also where I met Shalouw in our very first year of high school. We have been friends ever since.

I don’t come from a musical family — music wasn’t really a big part of our household. So, everything I know, I learned on my own. I got into it gradually, by myself. For me, it all really started with partying. That is how we first got into club music.

We used to go out a lot. As soon as we got our driving licences, we started travelling to different cities. Since we lived near the border, we had access to Germany, but also to Amsterdam and Rotterdam. We went out all the time — and I think that is really where it all began for us.

Eventually, we got into DJing ourselves and then started making our own music.

— …and created CHAMOS. Shalouw, you are Kurdish (but you have been living in the Netherlands for 25 years now, so we might as well call you Dutch), and Guido, you are Dutch; the word "chamos" comes from Spanish slang. Is there any story?

Shalouw: We started this project in 2018. And I think, when you begin something like that, you really have to look in the mirror — ask yourself who you are and who you are in relation to one another. We have been friends since 2005, so that is nearly 20 years of friendship.

At some point, we came across the word CHAMOS. There is a Dutch rapper, Yung Nnelg, who has a track where he says, “I’m here with my chamos.” It turns out the word comes from Venezuela. And we just instantly loved it. We thought, yeah — that is us. We are chamos. We are friends.

For us, making and playing music isn’t just about giving something to others; it is also about what we get in return. And what we take from it is friendship. Since we started this project, we have made so many new friends along the way — real, genuine friends.

That is where the name comes from. It is just a cool word. It means “friends,” and that is what we are and what we keep making. It is like a full-circle thing.

— Okay, so your duo is clearly a blend of cultures — that is who you are, and it is reflected in the music you create. But have you ever felt that cultural difference between you? Can you share a moment or situation where you really noticed it?

Guido: The first thing that comes to mind is when we would be walking through the city together, and if Shalouw saw someone from his culture, they would always greet me too. Even if they didn’t know me at all, they would shake my hand and say hi.

That was new for me. In Dutch culture, people usually just greet the ones they know and kind of leave it at that. But I really liked that part of Kurdish culture — how warm and inclusive it is. It made an impression on me, and it is something I have tried to adopt myself: greeting everyone in a group, making people feel acknowledged. I really appreciate that.

Shalouw: Back when we were younger, in secondary school, I would visit Guido’s house and notice how things were done differently compared to my own home. And it was the same for Guido when he came over to mine — he saw things that felt unfamiliar, too.

One thing that comes to mind is how we approach daily life. In my culture, it is often more “go with the flow” — you just do what feels right in the moment and see where it leads. That can be a lovely way to live, but sometimes in life, it is important to think more carefully about your steps. In Dutch culture, there is more of a focus on structure and planning. That contrast really stood out to me, and I think it is something I learned from.

I also remember little things that highlighted those differences. For example, the first time we boiled eggs at Guido’s place, his mum said, “Six or seven minutes,” very precisely. In my household, we would just throw the eggs into boiling water, wait a bit, and then say, “Yeah, that should be done now.” It was such a small thing, but it really showed me how different our habits could be — even in something as simple as cooking an egg.

Guido: We set a timer!

Shalouw: I remember thinking, wait, you set a timer for a boiled egg?!

I think that is exactly what we have been trying to do over the last 20 years of friendship — learn from one another. Guido has experienced parts of my culture, and I have experienced more of the Dutch culture. And I have fallen in love with certain aspects of Dutch life, and he has fallen in love with parts of Kurdish culture.

We try to take the best of both worlds and bring that into our own lives. It is all about balance — understanding, appreciating, and combining the good from each culture to shape who we are.

— Guido, do you remember the moment you first discovered Kurdish music? Was it Shalouw who introduced you to it, or did it come from somewhere else?

Guido: Shalouw introduced me to a lot of Kurdish music back in the day, and I realised quite quickly that I had fallen in love with it. One of my earliest memories is listening to Omar Souleyman — he is a Syrian singer, but he incorporates a lot of Kurdish melodies into his music. That really struck a chord with me from the very beginning.

Even before we started CHAMOS, I was already getting into that sound. I went to concerts, I explored more of the genre — it just resonated with me. That was really my first experience with Kurdish-influenced music, and it stuck with me.

These days, I still listen to it — at home, in the gym, wherever. There is a lot of Kurdish music in my life now, and I genuinely enjoy it.

— Shalouw, and what was your starting point with Western music?

Shalouw: If I think back to my first experience with Western music, it must have been around 2002. And it was the Backstreet Boys! Yeah, I was really into them at the time. I even had a haircut — the one like the blond guy, you know? It is funny now, but that was my introduction to Western pop music.

But pretty soon after that, I started getting more into Dutch music — things like house, trance, or what we sometimes called “harder” music. That was when I really began to understand that electronic music could make you feel something, especially when you experienced it live. It opened a new world for me.

Of course, hip hop was always part of the picture as well. It was everywhere — on MTV, in music videos. That whole era really shaped how I started connecting with sound.

— Now, I have got a lot of questions about your EP. The whole concept is a musical journey — from the Middle East (Erbil) to Europe (Amsterdam). Could you tell me more about how the EP came together? How was it created, and why did you choose these particular tracks? And also, it was announced somewhere that the EP has four tracks, but in reality, there are five! What is the story behind that?

Shalouw: Yeah, we can definitely explain that!

The name “From Erbil to Amsterdam” really says it all. Erbil is the capital of the Kurdish region in Iraq, and Amsterdam is like our second home. With this EP, we wanted to symbolically bring music from Erbil to Amsterdam — blending our roots with where we are now.

The idea behind the project was to introduce more Kurdish elements into electronic music. That is who we are, really: one of us comes from a Kurdish background, the other from a more Western, Dutch background. And we wanted to reflect that duality through sound.

So we began by incorporating traditional Kurdish instruments — things like the zurna, flutes, and other folkloric elements — and combining them with electronic drums, percussion, and modern production techniques. That blend of East and West is what the name represents.

Interestingly, the name also started to evolve naturally with our touring. Nowadays, when we travel, we find ourselves saying things like “from Amsterdam to Copenhagen” or “from Amsterdam to London,” depending on where we are playing that weekend. It became more than just the title of the EP — it turned into a theme for our live shows and even a reflection of our own journeys as people. And in May, we will actually be performing in Kurdistan!

As for the EP itself, it is made up of four original tracks. But there is also a fifth track — a special one. Before the EP, we had released an edit of an older Kurdish song, “Berzî Berzî,” by Naser Razzazi. The original is a classic; our edit of it went viral, and after some conversations with the label and the rights holders, we could include it officially on the EP. So, while it's technically a remix, it felt important to include, especially because it’s such a significant piece from the Kurdish region. It’s like the bonus track that ties everything together.

— And the cover is amazing. Can you tell me more about the elements we see on it?

Shalouw: Last year, I was in Kurdistan, and I brought a few things back with me — items that carry meaning, both from the past and the present. I was trying to express through these objects a sense of continuity — something that connects now with back in the day.

One of the things I brought was a kefiya. Most people might recognise it just as a scarf or headwrap, but in Kurdish culture, we have our own traditional version. You wear it on your head, and it is always worn in a specific way — it’s a symbol, not just an accessory. We actually used it as part of the visual concept for one of the tracks on the EP.

Another piece I brought back was the klash — traditional Kurdish shoes. That’s actually where the name of our track Klash Riddim comes from. These shoes are handmade, often from rope, and what’s unique about them is that there’s no left or right shoe — you can wear either one on either foot. People say you should alternate them every day, just to keep their shape even. They are often worn during traditional Kurdish dancing, but many people still wear them casually, every day. There’s something really timeless and human about that.

And, of course, the Kurdish suit. It’s what we wear at weddings, but also just in daily life — especially older men, or those still living in the region. It’s a very recognisable silhouette, very rooted in identity.

Then, there’s the pomegranate. In Western cultures, dessert might be cake or something sweet. But for us, fruit is the dessert. And sometimes, with a bit of salt. I remember sitting in the living room as a kid, watching my mum and brothers making these little fruit balls and sprinkling salt on top. That was the treat, and it was perfect.

— CHAMOS was founded seven years ago, back in 2018. I can imagine your sound has evolved a lot since then. How? What did your music sound like in the beginning, and how would you describe it now?

Guido: When we started in 2018, we were inspired by a wide range of electronic music that blended global influences — things like dancehall, Afrobeat, and baile funk from Brazil. That was the kind of sound we fell in love with, and it was where we began our journey as producers.

But at the same time, we were very aware that we were guests in that space. Neither of us is from Africa or Brazil, and while we wanted to pay tribute to those genres, we also knew we could never truly create that music in the same way as those who live and breathe it. It was always made with love and respect, but we recognised the importance of authenticity.

Now, we have started to evolve. More and more, we are drawing inspiration from the music of the Middle East — particularly from Shalouw’s background and the sounds he grew up with. All those legendary tracks from his youth have become a huge source of influence for us today. And this direction feels more natural, more rooted — it makes sense for us both personally and musically.

We are incredibly inspired at the moment. We are creating so much new music, and it’s a joy to be in that flow. It feels like we have found a sound that is honest and exciting, and we are building on it daily.

Shalouw: By the way, one of the interesting and funny things about Kurdish music is this spontaneous, almost improvised performance style we have. There are sessions where people sit around, take the mic, and start talking — not necessarily singing a known song, but simply describing what’s happening in the room. It feels a bit like karaoke, but it’s actually its own thing. You are freestyling, capturing the moment, going completely with the flow. It’s a big part of the culture, and that spirit of spontaneity also lives in the music.

We wanted to bring that same energy into our original tracks — to take that unfiltered, in-the-moment vibe and mix it with more Western, electronic elements. Sometimes, our tracks take unexpected turns — there might be a section that feels a bit chaotic or weird at first, and then it suddenly drops into something very electronic and structured. That tension and contrast are intentional.

Through our music, we try to express duality — because that’s who we are. It’s not always neat or predictable, but it’s honest. It reflects how we live and how we feel.

— How do people in Amsterdam — or in the West in general — connect with your music? I mean, for some of them, this sound might be completely unfamiliar. How do they respond to it?

Shalouw: The thing with the music we make is that, above all, it has to be danceable. That’s the first rule. If someone — anyone — can dance to the track, that’s already a win. It doesn’t matter who’s listening, as long as it moves them.

We often hear people say, “You’ve created a whole new genre,” but for us, it’s not really about inventing something entirely new. It’s more about bringing two worlds together. That’s what makes the sound feel fresh, even though, at its core, it’s a combination of things that already exist.

I think people are connecting with it because it is accessible. There’s a balance to it. You have got moments where a loud Kurdish flute or traditional drum suddenly comes in — very raw, very real — and then you shift back to an electronic drop, something that feels more familiar to Western ears. It’s all about contrast and flow. Even in our DJ sets, we structure things that way: we will give people tracks they recognise and then gradually introduce them to our own music. That way, they are already on board when something unfamiliar arrives.

So far, the response has been amazing. I think people are genuinely open to hearing new sounds, but it helps when those new elements are wrapped in something they already relate to. It’s both new and familiar, and I think that’s why the reaction’s been so positive.

— So, what's next?

Shalouw: We are releasing a lot of music at the moment, but we are also working on something special for the end of the year — a new project called GA3DA. And this is actually the first time we are sharing that name with anyone!

Ganda is inspired by traditional Kurdish gatherings — those moments where people sit together, share food and drinks, and someone starts playing the keyboard or picks up a mic and begins to freestyle. It’s spontaneous, communal, and deeply rooted in the culture.

What we want to do with this project is create music specifically for those kinds of sessions but reimagined for a younger generation. Not in a nostalgic way, but in a way that blends tradition with a modern sound. We are working on a collection of songs with beats, textures, and energies that resonate with the youth today.

And we want to go beyond just recording the music — we are planning to organise actual ganda sessions ourselves. Chill, intimate gatherings where we will bring people together, set up in cool locations. We want to create a warm, inviting setting where we can record live, jam, and share the culture in a fresh way.

by Alexandra Mansilla