What Good is a Heart That Won’t Break?

A Celebration of Dunya

– Written by Hunter Bushell-Petch –

“Both our eyes are red / But you’re high and I’m crying / You’re trying to forget / But it hits me every time”.

In an era decorated with flashy, overproduced – and at times – templatic endeavors, it’s inspiring to see a gentle folk album like Dunya have such a profound impact.

Mustafa has been nothing short of brilliant since his initial public debut as a young poet. Growing up in the Regent Park area of the GTA, his delicate choice of words always seems to flawlessly mirror the feelings of not only himself, but his peers residing in the same neighborhood. No matter the format, his writing is of the most compassionate in the world – impressively so, as few writers under 30 can voice their experiences with such an emotionally knowledgeable perspective.

The death of upwards of 20+ in his circle, his brother included, caused justifiable distance from the place he once called home. “I actually feel most inferior when I’m in Toronto, like, I actually don’t know if the city makes any space for me at all (Mustafa, Toronto Star, 2024).” One of these tragedies involved his late friend and Toronto artist Smoke Dawg, who was murdered in 2018. This sparked Mustafa’s initial 2021 release When Smoke Rises, surprising listeners with his comforting, beautiful takes on grief. Influenced by Joni Mitchell as much as he is Chief Keef,  Mustafa’s sound has a truly singular blend of folk textures that remain within the context of his brutal upbringing in Toronto. If his Regent Park days had any upside at all, it’d be the angle he’s able to access songwriting as an artist, being one that none other are able to achieve. “A bottle of lean / A gun in your jeans, and a little faith in me” isn’t a common lyric to be heard by a Justin Vernon or Adrianne Lenker-esque character, yet it remains equally touching and well-presented. When Smoke Rises was no doubt an impressive release, and is easily one of the best singer/songwriter projects to come out in the 2010s. The follow up was bound to be a large leap for Mustafa, as long as his mournful tone and intense attention to detail were not going to be compromised. Needless to say, he did not differ from expectations.

Just as midnight passed on September 27th, I pressed play on Dunya for the first time. Sitting on the couch in my apartment, the Spotify app on my Playstation 5 was the conduit for this first venture into what I would soon come to learn is my favorite album of the year. I impatiently passed on the previously released 5 singles, eager to experience the 7 new ones as soon as humanly possible. Although I enjoyed “What happened Mohamed?”, “What Good is a Heart?” was the initial cut of the new releases that reeled me in. “The love that you give is the love you should take / What good is a heart that will not break?” acted as an immediate invitation for reflection. If Dunya is a world of its own, “What Good is a Heart?” is its gravity, holding it together to sum up such evocative ideals in a mature, thoughtful manner. 

My second listen occurred directly after waking up the next day, as I had realized there was a lot more to unpack here than I had imagined. I took a walk around the streets of Toronto to fully appreciate the album in its entirety, risking the possibility of a public emotional crisis of some sort. Nonetheless, I began the journey through Dunya again. I was captivated. Not only has Mustafa built upon his foundations as an artist (that were already sturdy to begin with), he raised the bar so far past expectations that he composed a benchmark in Canadian music. I was – and still am – struck by the sheer quality of every single fucking song. The choice for singles must’ve been easily interchangeable, every one being of the same condition. “Beauty, end”, “Hope is a Knife”, and “Name of God” are currently the most personally rotated. 

I’ve since listened to Dunya 10+ times in full. An album so deep rooted in faith, grief, devastation, ironically has made me wildly enlightened creatively and emotionally. Mustafa continues to ask questions that evoke moments of philosophical pensiveness for his listeners, myself included. I haven’t felt this drawn to constantly re-listening to a project in years. Thank you, Mustafa.