By Hande Gürses
It is not every day that a Turkish pop star visits Vancouver and when they do, they are met with great enthusiasm. In the case of Mustafa Sandal, who held a concert in Vancouver for the first time on April 18, the enthusiasm was not limited to the appreciation of his music but also derived from what he represented: nostalgia for an era where life was simpler, joys greater, and future more hopeful.
Born in 1970, the Turkish pop star Mustafa Sandal’s rise to fame took place in the 1990s, an era of incredible productivity for Turkish pop music. Mustafa Sandal’s cosmopolitan appearance was reflected in his sound and lyrics, paving the way to incredible popularity both in Turkey and abroad. His first album Suç Bende (My Fault, 1994) comprised of seven songs all written and composed by Sandal. One of the most popular songs of the album, “This Girl Must See Me”, quickly became a favourite with lyrics that epitomize the lighthearted essence of pop music: “This girl must see me, she needs to knit me a sweater, she needs to only love me.”
Two years later came Sandal’s second album Gölgede Aynı (Same in the Shadow, 1996) containing the song that has become his trademark Araba (Car). Continuing with his genius in combining catchy melodies with seemingly trivial lyrics, with “Car” Sandal made an unforgettable mark in Turkish pop music. The chorus of this classic addresses a lover who owns a fancy car that goes fast, as well as a private driver, but concludes with the fact that this person does not stand a chance since despite all the wealth, she lacks a soul.
As soon as Mustafa Sandal came on-stage at the Key in Vancouver, the audience was screaming “Araba! Araba! Araba!”, requesting the song that become the symbol of a whole generation. Sandal graciously responded that there was no need to request songs since he was going to perform all the favourites. And he indeed delivered. Staying on-stage for almost two hours, Mustafa Sandal performed only the classics of his repertoire from the ’90s. Despite the absence of elaborate stage design and other visual elements, Sandal kept the attention of the audience with his pop star charisma and the immense power of his songs. If it wasn’t for all the phones held to the stage, one could almost imagine watching this concert in the ’90s.
The audience of Turkish diaspora came from different generations, yet they all knew the lyrics of his songs by heart. For those who were still living in Turkey during the peak of Sandal’s fame, his songs were the gateway to a personal and communal nostalgia. Now, watching Mustafa Sandal thousands of kilometers away and decades later, they not only sang along to the songs of their youth but also shared a lament for the friends, family, memories, and possibilities that they have lost along the way. As members of those generations gradually left the country in search of a better life in Canada, they also left behind the possibility of who they could have become. Another group in the audience, sharing similar feelings, were the Iranian community. Although they were not always able to sing along to the lyrics, it was evident from their moves that they were very familiar with the melodies of Mustafa Sandal’s songs, demonstrating the power of music to transcend temporal, geographical, and linguistic boundaries.
As the concert neared its end Mustafa Sandal sang his much-anticipated “Araba”, accompanied by the audience. The fact that the stage became barely visible among the phone screens held up was the only remainder that we were now in 2026. And that maybe, having a fancy, fast car would be more than enough today.
Hande Gürses is a scholar of literature and the author of Displacing Fictions of Orhan Pamuk: Beyond the Bridge. She teaches at Capilano University. Follow Pancouver on X @PancouverMedia, Bluesky @pancouver.bsky.social, and Instagram @PancouverMedia.
