I happened to travel to New York City on May 30, 2002, the day that ceremonies were held to mark the completion of the clearing of the rubble at the site of the World Trade Center. At a downtown law firm's expense, I was staying at the Ritz Carleton Battery Park, and could see Ground Zero from my hotel room. Walking through the hotel lobby the next day, I noticed to my surprise that Arab instrumental music was playing over the loudspeakers. I didn't recognize the piece, but it was clearly Arab, set within a distinctively contemporary musical framework, richly produced, and with a subtle dance rhythm. That Arab music would be played in 2002 at an upscale New York City hotel located just a few blocks from the WTC site, I would argue, is not anomalous, but rather a reflection of the remarkable fact that Arab music acquired a certain hipness in the U.S., post-9/11. In this article, I chart some of the twisted and contradictory paths Arab music has taken on its way to becoming cool.Pre-9/11 InroadsEver since the mid-1980s, when music-the Western marketing category that encompasses a wide variety of international music-first emerged, popular music from the Arab world has remained a fairly minor player. Aimed in large part at what could be described as a National Public Radio (NPR)-listening adult audience, world music has a small share of roughly 2-3% (comparable to classical music and jazz) of total music sales, but its audibility increased during the 1990s.2It should be underscored at the outset that music from the Arab world faces a particular obstacle on the U.S. scene that is not encountered by musical genres emanating from most other parts of the globe. That impediment is the special antipathy found in the U.S. toward virtually all things Arab and Muslim. This exceptional aversion, as is well known, was discussed and diagnosed intensively by the late Edward Said (see in particular, Said, 1979a; 1979b; 1981). The U.S., as Said argues, not only participates in the generalized Western discourse of Orientalism, but U.S. Orientalism possesses a particular and often virulent character. This is due, in part, according to Said, to the sheer distance of the U.S. from the Arab world/Middle East, by comparison with Europe, which produces a generalized public ignorance and disinterest when it comes to things Arab and Islamic. Added to this is the strength of sympathy for Israel in the U.S., a force that one finds no where else in the Western world. This peculiar U.S. abhorrence toward Arabs and Muslims, plus the relative weakness of U.S. movements in solidarity with Arab causes, makes it quite difficult for any overtly politicized Arab music to gain acceptance via the U.S. world music market.This is in marked contrast to other genres of world music which have won audiences in the U.S. In his Dangerous Crossroads, for instance, music critic George Lipsitz (1994) investigates the work and Western reception of world music artists such as Fela Kuti (Nigeria), Ruben Blades (Panama/U.S.), Yothu Yindi (Australian aborigines), and Thomas Mapfumo (Zimbabwe), all known to be associated with various progressive causes. In the U.S., however, it is much more politically acceptable to be against white racism in southern Africa or in favour of Aboriginal rights than it has been to be identified with the cause of Palestinian national liberation or with the campaign against the UN sanction regime in Iraq. This has meant that one of the main avenues to world music fame in the U.S., which involves a combination of progressive politics and commercial circuits, has been virtually closed to Arab musicians.3On the other hand, it could be argued that there are fewer obstacles to the penetration of Arab popular music into the U.S. than exist for other genres of Arab culture, such as films or novels. Arab popular music is arguably a more mobile, cheaper, readily consumable and ultimately accessible form than are Arab novels or films. …