If life without media is bliss, Cem Manisali may be the happiest guy in the world.
The Beacon resident avoids the news. Social media, too. Mentions of current events and recent history elicit a shrug.
“I live under a rock on purpose,” he says. “I never feel better watching the news or going on social media for fun. It gives me a trashy, greasy feeling. I tune out to focus on music and spiritual practices, although I do have to use social media for my music and real estate agency.”
Beyond selling properties, Cem (pronounced Gem) mentors at a recovery group, breaking down the stigma for men to deal with mental health issues. “I try to get them to talk about their feelings, make healthy connections with their families and build a positive expression of masculinity,” he says.
Manisali also earned a bachelor’s degree in music production and is using it. His second album as Soul Kobra, Warrior of the Heart, drops on Wednesday (June 5). It pays tribute to funky disco by channeling his Mount Rushmore of boyhood heroes: Prince, Rick James, James Brown and Michael Jackson.
He describes his music as “if Prince were Turkish and had a baby with Shakira.” The title of his first album in 2022, Maláma!, is an acronym that represents an amalgam of global influences and translates, he says, as “immigrant funk.”
Like Prince in his early years, Manisali, 29, plays all of the album’s instruments, from the core guitar, bass and drums to add-ons like piano, accordion and percussion, which deliver a Latin touch. He and another singer provided vocals.
The songs “I Still Remember” and “Can You Hear the Music” resurrect the lost art of slapping (with the thumb) and popping (with the fingers) on the electric bass, a technique developed by 1970s funk players.
Growing up in Queens, his musical tastes set Manisali apart. After locking himself in his room, turning off the lights and strapping on the headphones, he imagined being onstage before 10,000 fans.
Besides digging outdated tunes, he had other reasons to feel like an outsider. “Being Turkish itself is confusing,” Manisali says. “Are we from the Middle East, Europe or Asia? Are we Muslim or secular? Are we pro-West or pro-East?” To add to the confusion, his mother is Kurdish, a traditional enemy of the Turks, and he attended a private school on the Upper West Side as the only Turk in the building.
“My parents came here with two suitcases and $300,” Manisali says. “So if you add the socioeconomic component, I was a chameleon every place I went. I felt unseen and unheard, so I immersed myself in music.”
After graduating from college, he lived a freewheeling lifestyle and eventually connected with chef Salt Bae, a fellow Turk who owns the Nusr-Et Steakhouse in Miami, working his way up to maître d.
After his parents moved to Beacon, Manisali relocated to patch things up with his family. “Everything [in Miami] was a fantasy — the partying, the dancing, chasing women,” he says. “I ended up in the fetal position and, at that point, no amount of external things could make me happy.”
Turning to music, martial arts and mindfulness helped him overcome. “Wounds have healed,” he says. “I even got my sister and mother into yoga.”
Uplifting messages pepper the lyrics of his album, and he is already planning a third record that may feature brass and strings (he plays the violin).
“Music, boxing, dance, yoga — it’s the same thing in the way they practice using body, mindfulness and meditation,” he says. “For me, they’re an opportunity to get into a state of flow, tune into myself and be present in the moment.”
Soul Kobra’s music is available on streaming platforms or at soulkobra.com/shop.
I love Cem’s music. He is so charismatic, passionate and kindhearted. Thank you for sharing more about him.