Beggar at Ghazi Chowk

By ZEERAK AHMED

War Minus The Shooting.

29 Mar 2011

Published in the Daily Princetonian, 29 March 2011.

By the time you read this, there will be about 20 hours before the start of what is arguably the most explosive cricket game in years.

Pakistan and India face off at Mohali, India in the semifinal of the Cricket World Cup, the third largest sporting event in the world behind the FIFA World Cup and the Olympics. Any World Cup semifinal is historic, and any India-Pakistan game is brimming with emotion and spirit, but this particular combination is something else.

Pakistan has reached the knockout stage of the World Cup for the first time in 12 years after a heartbreaking loss to Australia in the 1999 final. The country has not played a home cricket game for two years, after gunmen attacked the visiting Sri Lankan cricket team. Pakistan was then stripped of rights to host the World Cup this spring, along with India, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. Being hit by a betting scandal last summer also damaged the team, and it was said that Pakistan went into the tournament as a non-contender for the first time in decades. But after all the drama, the team has held its own against cricketing giants, ending Australia’s 12-year unbeaten streak in World Cup matches that began in 1999 and then marching into the semifinals.

In Pakistan, what was a tentative hopefulness before the World Cup has changed back into the fervor of old. Thousands are on the streets; cricket fever is back. Win or lose, for once, the polarization typical of Pakistani society has given way to just plain craziness over a cricket game, and it’s amazing.

India is no different. Unlike Pakistan, however, the Indian team went into the tournament as favorites, faltered a bit, and then found its footing again. Recently buoyed by handing the final knockout to the mighty Australians, the Indians have burst the World Cup wide open once again.

Remixed anthems, posters and calls for prayer have all made their way over the Internet, and for once I feel less bubbled at Princeton. It’s hard to keep this energy out of your feed if you know anyone from South Asia.

Hotels within 25 kilometers of the venue in Mohali are full, there is no more space in the airport for private planes, ad rates are at an all time high and an Indian parrot that predicted a Pakistani win has been killed. For humans, though, cricket can have an unusually reconciliatory power. On more than one occasion, traveling across the border to watch cricket games has sparked great inroads into citizen diplomacy between the two countries. And even within these countries, cast, creed, religion — all are forgotten for a game.

I find it very difficult to explain cricket to my friends here. “It’s not really a sport, it’s just a bunch of people standing around in the sun, talking politics, mostly.” The tea breaks help, too. But come Wednesday morning at 5 a.m., viewing parties shall commence in many places all over campus. There will be swearing, there will be screaming and there might be the odd fistfight. We’re already wondering how to minimize tensions between the Indians and Pakistanis on campus. Judging by the Facebook banter, things might get tense. If any of us wake you up, our apologies in advance, but we have little control over our emotions in this terribly volatile situation. And in our defense, we’re not alone: We’re a small subset of about a billion and a half people who are also going crazy.

An effort was made to formally bring this fervor to campus in the form of Princeton Club Cricket. I’ve been an officer for the club since it was reintroduced, and we’ve slowly gathered a following that often joins us on the Dillon Gymnasium floor at 11 p.m. for two hours of cricket. As the winter ends, the challenge of finding a field is renewed, and hopefully we can get practice up and running as soon as possible.

Cricket has in fact been a part of Princeton’s heritage. The first collegiate football game between Harvard and Princeton was played on a cricket field in Hoboken, N.J., as my friend and I found out while aimlessly staring at the pictures in the Whitman Common Room in an attempt to avoid writing code. I hope that one day Princeton will resume playing cricket on cricket fields.

For many of us in Princeton Club Cricket, our membership is partly about the sport (if we agree to call it that), and partly about reliving the childhood memories associated with a sense of national pride. In many ways, South Asian cricket is our little rebellion against the world, a show of strength and an exhibition of technical prowess that can match that of anyone else in the world.

Here’s to some more interest in this historic sport, a peaceful Wednesday morning and a win for Pakistan. (May I also point out that tensions have already escalated, as this piece made its way through an Indian executive editor for opinion).

A New Generation of Rock.

18 Mar 2011

Article originally published on Koolmuzone on March 18, 2011.

The rise of Bilal Khan, the Aunty Disco Project & Uth records has signaled the coming of a new generation of rock music from Pakistan’s renewed underground scene. After the rise of Noori and eP, along with Indus Music, the VJ generation and a post Junoon revelation, it seems that generation of rockers will take a new place in Pakistan’s rock industry.

The energetic rock anthems have since become somewhat hollow, and as Pakistan’s politics and society have hit new rock bottoms, rock has had to find new issues, new emotions to deal with. It seems the big guns have had to deal with social issues, and bringing audiences back together. Strings, Atif, Ali Zafar and then Noori to some degree have tried to mature their pop acts into deeper, more relevant offerings.

Some may say however, that this generation did not live up to its promise. Despite the phenonmenal rise of 2003’s musicians, many have released only a handful of songs, let alone albums. Atif has been an exception, and his work with Bollywood’s music directors has probably helped there. But many other musicians have released only two albums and some singles over this last decade.

Despite some disappointments however, we have found some heroes that will guide a new generation of musicians. Uth Records’ Gumby and Omran Shafique have taken the mantle as producers, their work with Coke Studio has been the subject of much praise anyway. And besides their individual acts, they continue to play for other musicians as well, and their work continues to reach us in many ways. Similarly Salman Ahmed, Rohail Hyatt and Shazi Hasan from the Vital Signs and Junoon era continue to experiment and find new identity.

After the boom in 2003, and Pepsi’s Battle of the Bands, some thought Lahore’s underground scene was dead. They moaned the loss of the connections bands had to make with fans, and rued the flooding of bad songs with expensive videos on television.

A new generation of underground rock has given us hope however. Just as we see ADP lead the charge of Karachi’s rock, Bilal Khan rejuvenates Lahore’s scene and other acts pop up all over. Thankfully underground rock from outside Lahore and Karachi has hit the mainstream. Islamabad’s Bumbu Sauce, Peshawar’s Yasir & Jawad, Jamshoro’s Sketches and more.

And this new rise can teach new rockers many things.

First, good production values are important. Many a listener may not be able to pinpoint what exact differences exist between a well produced song and a cheap one, but many will often define it as ‘better quality’. It seems audiences only pay attention to songs that bands feel is worth investing in as well. Take ADP for example. Despite a healthy following of a talented live set available online, it was only after a mainstream release of ‘better quality’ sounding singles that they hit mainstream. But as they have also taught, money is not all you need. As OBA’s blog posts recount, they don’t spend money on expensive studios, but continue to perfect the recording themselves. They don’t make huge budget videos, and have acknowledged the lackluster jobs TV channels are doing.

Similar appreciation for produciton values can also be seen through Coke Studio, Uth Records, and even the initial rise of Noori and eP, who were produced by acclaimed producers such as Mekaal Hasan. Similarly Junoon used Salman Ahmad’s roots in New York to use the facilities in America, Ali Zafar used studios in India and even London, and Bumbu Sauce too recorded in Quebec.

Second, it is important for bands to create a connection with audiences. An expensive video will only last so long. It is important for bands to hit common ground with everybody else. And ADP’s strong live performances are as important to me as their blog posts, which connect us with the band. OBA recounts how he wanted to be part of a Zeppelin like mysterious band, but perhaps the fact that he’s not is what makes the band so appealing.

Similarly Bilal Khan’s immediate interaction with fans tells a similar story, not unlike Yasir & Jawad (feat. Wali)’s cult following.

And as the Sketches have shown, there is more to our heritage than Junoon found. We loved Junoon for finding something unique about ourselves, but it is tiring to hear the same things again. The Sketches have dug deeper, into their own influences and into our heritage, and found the work of Allan Faqir again. Even the Sufi image is maturing, and this is all good news.

One hopes that many of these part time musicians get through their struggles with TV channels, record labels and security issues to actually make some money and get some appreciation for their work. Hopefully they won’t go unnoticed like Pakistani rock from the 70s.

Starbucks and Foreign Policy.

17 Mar 2011

Published in the Daily Princetonian’s Opinion Section Friday March 11, 2011.

The protests in the Middle East and the United States government’s tentative initial response to them have allowed critics once again to criticize America’s contradictory policies.
To many, America’s support of dictators in the Middle East is evidence of the United States’ self-preserving policy of making inroads into global politics completely on the grounds of what is good for itself. Of course, the legitimate counterargument is that nearly every country in the world is probably acting this way and probably ought to be. Who is even directly responsible for the dictators’ power is a question unto itself.

While this criticism of a self-preserving government might be valid, it tends to not hold ground on its own. But an additional premise solidifies the argument— that is, many find America’s dual role as a self-preserving country and the self-proclaimed global police contradictory. Critics find efforts to spread democracy inconsistent with a long support of dictators that benefit America politically and economically.

There is a somewhat baseless anti-American sentiment in the Muslim world — hence the old idea that all things American have an immoral aspect. But as many immigrants return from an America that attracted them with its educational and economic institutions, there is hope that such baseless disapproval will be ameliorated, making critiques of American policy more objective, accepting and sound in their approach compared to previous outright rejection.

And there is already some criticism of America that is sound. Because of this criticism, it is in the interest of both Americans and critics of America to distinguish between sound and baseless criticism, while many international students such as myself go back to their home countries with visions of America that are less than optimistic. To many critics, and to many of us, America is still the superpower (with conflicting interests) that should not be meddling with others’ affairs.

Simultaneously however, these individuals who have spent time in America happily take on American cultural tradition, follow the Oscars and “How I Met Your Mother” and may even make English music with American accents. They hang around in jeans, take their morning coffee and work with American software, often selling to American markets or even working for American firms from abroad. Isn’t that contradictory?

To most of the press in the United States, it seems to be so. A few months ago, The New York Times highlighted the irony of a Pakistani alternative rock song that criticized American policy that did so with an American accent. But the U.S. press is unfortunately looking over the fact that, just as large diasporas from the Middle East or South Asia bring their culture with them as they immigrate to America, similar diasporas are now taking American culture with them back to their home countries. And American culture continues to makes headway with a culture industry that is popular everywhere.

Slowly but surely, people from all over the world, including those from the Middle East and South Asia, are taking American culture and assimilating it into their own. This process has become ridiculously easier with the advent of first the Internet, then “Web 2.0” and now even smartphones, allowing the global world to connect whenever, wherever.

As American culture spreads, we realize that the discourse of cultures is becoming something that can travel. Culture is no longer locked to a certain geographical area and neither is national identity nor political allegiance. The number of Pakistani bloggers and Twitter users that critique both U.S. and Pakistani policy on the War on Terror from inside America is slowly rising. Needless to say, they will do this with acquired American accents, wearing jeans, sipping some Starbucks coffee as they type on their MacBooks. This example illustrates that new technology and an increasing rate of immigration are bringing global populations closer together than ever; the technology has more far-reaching effects than international students’ being able to call their parents for free any time they want.

America’s role as a self-interested actor, then, thanks to technology, is more easily critiqued than ever before. And as an increased worldwide adoption of American culture shows, there is little inherent issue with the American image that remains outside of policy. Fortunately, now is the best time ever for both America and the international students who forge a bridge between the United States and their home counties to take advantage of this cultural mixing to educate foreign policy.

Here’s to the hope that we can quit playing games and that a global political police should now consist of individuals from all over the world who can collectively act in self-interest, as we realize that both our cultures, as well as our political actions, are now global commodities.

Junoon Manifests in ADP.

9 Feb 2011

Raat Jaagi (Live at Get Your Aunty On!) by auntydiscoproject

Every time I hear Raat Jaagi it makes me think of how influential Junoon really was.

Disclaimer: All the conclusions of this post may be completely coincidental, or totally untrue. But we’ll give it a shot.

The main riff is really reminiscent of many non-Sufi Junoon songs which employed similar riffs such as Khooey Aankhein and Heeray. Ali Alam’s (I think that’s him singing there) vocals have this great quality of being upbeat all the time, and yet being able to extract various emotions without changing tone drastically. From the upbeat, comforting, happy vibes of Ham Naa Rahay, he switches to a sort of unsettling, teasing broken vocal here. Ali Alam is no Ali Azmat, but I think both the band and the fans have taken to the energy in the music, evidenced by this life performance, and go with the flow. And rather uncannily, Ali Azmat too has the skill to evoke raw, unsettling emotion.

But if you’re still looking for more Junoon references, the song even quotes “ye waade jhoote, ye kasmein jhooti hain“, from Khooey Aankhein.

I often feel that Junoon has been the most defining of bands for post 2000 acts. The Vital Signs and Nazia Hasan were of course present, but no one has managed to mimic the Signs’ Floydian sound or Nazia Hasan’s true funky pop vibe. Unfortunately commercial music has shifted from pop that pushed boundaries to cheap rock that is often meaningless, loud, noisy and quite frankly an insult to audiences’ intelligence. Interestingly, the only band which openly cites The Signs and Nazia Hasan as important influences has gone on to define a completely unique sound itself, which has also remained largely unimitated. The Strings sound that’s composed of broken guitar riffs, unusual rhythms generated from vocal harmonies, guitars or eastern percussion that take center stage ahead of the drums, with keyboards often accentuating the melody along with melodious guitar solos and a huge vocal range. Perhaps that is hard to imitate.

A Powerful Entrance – Bumbu Sauce.

8 Feb 2011

Recently wrote a piece for Koolmuzone, on upcoming act Bumbu Sauce. Originally published online (original => here) January 8, 2011.

Today’s big acts have got their music out in the early 2000s in various ways, many made it big through Pepsi’s Battle of the Bands, and others rode the P2P sharing wave to become common names. However, the TV explosion and the presence of many average acts over airwaves and the internet often makes it difficult for quality acts to shine through the crowd. Recent exceptions have been the Cheapmunks, with their unique brand of East meets West music, and from the comedy world, Naked Tyrant Productions, whose unabashed take on Lahori life has taken the internet by storm.

Rock musicians have a harder job though, one might argue. As musicians and bands develop, they of course begin to create fan followings that will track releases and concerts, but it is breaking through an existent crowd of old timers, emerging rockers and new acts that makes it incredibly hard to try and reach audiences to begin with.

This has put Bumbu Sauce‘s entry into a class of its own really, and the release of their EP, Bistee Proof, has been quite the rage. Both the music and the way it has been released has been smart, very smart.

Jiggernaut
(Watch => here)

The Sauce’s first single didn’t make a lot waves in the local scene, but the American accent and mentions of the Taliban got the New York Times’ Lede Blog listening. The song was also featured in a Declan Walsh article in the Guardian. Alternatively referred to as ‘The Taliban Song’, Jiggernaut shows the first signs of the band’s signature wordplay. Of course the NYT pick up also lent them the opportunity to resurface as the band ‘as featured in the New York Times’. That was going to get people’s attention, smartly done sirs.

Mojambo
(Watch => here)

Mojambo is really what defines the band for me. It’s collection of seemingly random urban phrases got me smiling straight away, and many that have heard the song have thought this way too. Make no mistake though, this is not meant for easy listening, per se. The song structure is simple, but it is really Mr Mojambo himself, that makes this song great. As the band said in a radio appearance, Mojambo is all of us. That’s perhaps as good as answer as we’re going to get so might as well leave it at that.

The lyrics make this a great potential viral video, and the tight Twitter community has embraced Mojambo’s ‘Punkjabi’ aesthetic as the band puts it.

Bunnayn(za)
(Watch => here)

Are they a one hit wonder? Question had to pop up some time. What a time then for the band to release an adaptation of a poem by Anwar Masood. Adapting old urdu and Punjabi poetry has been a good way for Sufi rockers to gain some recognition if done well, an art mastered by Junoon and followed by many that they inspired. But this is perhaps one of the first times that a Punk band has adapted old poetry. They of course add their own twist with the Bunnayn(za) chorus (if I can call it a chorus). And that bass line, will that get on your head.

My Punjabi Love (For You)

The fourth and last track of the EP is an interesting hummable song, perhaps the easiest to listen to of the lot for those that prefer softer rock, but it only begins to make sense in terms of the band’s aesthetic once you hear the rest of the album out. The catchy riff gets you going, but had it been the first release, it just wouldn’t have helped create the image the band seems to want to have. The video isn’t out yet, but it should make its way to some playlists on its own time.

The Wrap Up

The band has used the EP concept well. 2010 was the first year that band’s chose to release not singles but collections of songs, and many found it better to do so as an EP rather than a full album, which makes sense. Many new acts have put up their music on Soundcloud, and with the resentment surrounding Music channels on TV, bands may choose to leave videos till later.

Bumbu Sauce to classify themselves as Punk rock, and while many might consider them not really punk rockers per se, perhaps there’s little need to argue. Their DIY approach and intelligent marketing plan have already got them going. Small concerts are already underway in Lahore and Islamabad and one hopes they have some new music out soon. If they’re interested they could possible be great in an advertising agency, but I hope they choose to stick with guitars over billboards.

Tony Blair, Imran Khan, Sunglasses & That Guitar Sound.

24 Dec 2010

If the myth is true (or it may just be me imagining things, very likely), and Jinnah did want to make Pakistan a new Britain, he might not be too happy with the way things were going. I don’t think he was expecting people to draw parallels between Britpop and the local Bandbaja, but I guess it’s a start.

Pakistani musicians, along with the rest of the country, have been through multiple identity crises. The press, quick to give them labels, often as either ‘patriotic’ or even just ‘burgers’, is quick to have them typecast and ready for some short shelf life. Unless of course you’re labeled a ‘big gun’, beyond which you are likely to stay afloat with a concert here or there and an album reflecting (or reposing) old glory. With the entrance of Bollywood as a possible market, the old question of keeping the music ‘Pakistani’ is forefront again. Perhaps it was more intellectual a query a few years ago, and for the most part people might no longer even care. Unless of course they’re doling out praise for the very Pakistani Coke Studio.

The 90s had seen a similar chain of thought in Britain, where musicians formed the short lived but exciting Britpop movement as a response to America’s newly popular grunge craze. As British identity muddled itself in the larger pop culture scene of popular English music, many 90s bands tried to hold on to their British heritage, writing lyrics about British life, connecting with the golden age of late 60s British rock and even trying to let go of that American accent.

Britpop at its peak formed an important part of the ‘Cool Britannia’ movement, joining hands with the Tony Blair and his ‘New Labour’ package. While the quick end of the Britpop craze was to coincide with the death of Princess Diana, what was interesting was the Britpop’s rallying behind the new Britain of Tony Blair as they chose to preserve past glory. Perhaps even more interesting was Tony Blair’s embracing of the Britpop culture. Finally a PM who was a guitarist.

Britpop gave us Wonderwall & Parklife, but the music also addressed deeper concerns such as class differences & perception issues, as presented in Pulp’s Common People.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqgXzPfAxjo

At around the same time, the Vital Signs were popularizing Pink Floydian soft rock on a wave of democratic euphoria with the arrival of Benazir Bhutto. They were only to be upstaged by Junoon, whose claim to fame was being banned by the governments of Benazir Bhutto & Nawaz Sharif, first after the release of Ehtesaab, an open call for political accountability, and later after their campaigns in India and Pakistan against nuclear weapons. Junoon, or more specifically Salman Ahmed, chose to rally behind cricket-hero turned champion-social-worker turned not-so-successful politician Imran Khan.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0olJuQBJHg

The Musharraf coup meant good news for the media, and the 2002 elections brought in a new era for private TV. Musharraf’s enlightened moderation was never really a popular phrase, for Musharraf was after all, a dictator, but for the industry, the vibe seemed to make sense. Music channels came with the TV revolution, especially after former Vital Signs member Rohail Hyatt’s Battle of the Bands sponsored by Pepsi also became popular. Some say the Battle of the Bands killed the underground scene with its lip synching gimmickery, but it also gave the world Entity Paradigm (eP), who would go on to release perhaps the best rock concept album produced in the country. A number of other acts emerged: Noori gained hype over the internet, Jal (with former lineup that included Atif Aslam) rode off the success of Aadat and popularized themselves by showing up to open at every concert, and Strings established their place with their strong comeback hit, Duur.

This post Junoon wave didn’t really have a political icon they could tag behind, for the only person in some sort of control was a military dictator, and for all the success that he had early in his tenure, he was to remain a military dictator. Instead they chose to push forward a feel-good, we-believe-in-ourselves spirit. This was spearheaded by Noori and eP. eP managed to do this despite the dark undertones of their music, which was a direction Noori too would take with their second album, but the rock anthems of Noori’s first album and eP’s burst onto the Battle of the Bands would become the soundtracks for a generation of self starters, especially for a new underground wave of musicians.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1H7cnsrJkI

Come the late 2000s, and the progress of the industry had stagnated. Critics began to label the post Junoon wave as ‘bubble-gum rock’, and the happy spirit was old. Imran Khan’s failure continued and he was soon to boycott the elections that everybody agreed to boycott, and then didn’t, leaving him the lone ranger if you may in what he would portray as a joke for a democracy. With Musharraf’s craziness and the return of feudal politicians to parliament, the music crowd finally lost its connection, minor though it was, with the ruling force. Out goes the we-shall-be-great vibe, and in comes the we-should-do-something vibe, which by 2010 is to be replaced by the we-must-do-something-because-things-are-bad vibe. By now big guns Strings and Atif Aslam team up to sing Ab Khud Kuch Karna Parey Ga.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBO9MYZiWgE

It was natural for one end of the spectrum to go into an almost apologetic recovery mode, and Pakistani musicians look to salvage the Pakistani identity, presenting the other side of Pakistan. The western media continues to portray this as a fighting cause in ‘the heart of the Taliban’ as they put it, evoking some proud emotion and some snide commentary about western ignorance from Pakistani commentators.

There’s then the other end of the spectrum, which takes on a strikingly Britpop like aesthetic. A dense guitar sound dominates the music, there’s some humour involved, especially in the image extraneous of the music, and talk about social issues is prominent, but not in your face. An array of pop icons and some emerging rock stars have embraced a cool vibe that doesn’t need to be making a political statement. This stemming from the fact that there really isn’t a political statement they can make. Instead they choose to embrace social initiatives, working with NGOs or even corporate sponsors that are willing to embrace some social responsibility.

Most of all however, is a genuine spirit that’s willing to have some fun because things are so screwed anyway. It is at this point that the comedy that comes from observing Pakistani politics and general failures migrates from outside satirical news shows and into the music and film world.

Some of this new wave retains some involvement with the growing fashion scene, which continues to remain at a complete disconnect with most of Pakistan. Shehzad Roy and Hadiqa Kiyani walk the ramp every now and then, and Strings will be the eternal good guys, strengthening relationships by performing on runways. But even for the not so suave guys, they maintain a similar cool controlled aesthetic, that tries to create a connection with past Pakistani music, most obviously inspired by Junoon but even with the Signs, and more recent acts like eP, Noori & Strings. While Shehzad Roy would achieve mainstream success with Laga Reh, a satirical and light hearted look at the problems of modern Pakistan, they Aunty Disco Project, or ADP is beginning to make a reputation out of their spunky live performances. After releasing an independent live album they’re in the studio now working on their first commercial release, building on a repertoire of impressive rock songs about power (Sultanat), love (many including Raat Jaagi) and friendship (Hum Naa Rahay). This is aside from a list of strong covers of western and Pakistani greats.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VSESualQbg

(Video promo & the entire song, Hum Na Rahay below:)

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rbTndAj4vA

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruaubpAKxfg

(Update 9:53 AM Pakistan Time: turns out the video for Hum Naa Rahay was just released last night. Embedded below:)

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwUpItcDuhc&feature=player_embedded

Britpop’s abrupt end brought Britain’s audience to the ‘default setting’ of any music scene as it’s said, pop music. Robbie Williams would take the mantle left open by Blur & Oasis, among others, and an era to talk about British problems in British ways was over.

Pakistan’s Britpop parallel is alive and well at this moment, and is being supported with similar humor from other social wellness initiatives such as Uth Oye. The music continues to talk about very Pakistani issues, at least if not in the lyrics then in radio and newspaper interviews. The TV channels that helped spark the post Junoon explosion are now at loggerheads with the musicians, this post by Omar Bilal Akhtar from ADP possibly reflecting general sentiment against a near shameless television generation.

The music maintains a western rock feel, but with the wide acceptance of Coke Studio 2, and the stage created by Junoon, a fusion with eastern elements is always welcome and often done well. The market continues to struggle to find a way to package and sell eastern classical music, but for now fusion is the preferred form. But what is the Pakistani way to tell these stories? That’s the question that continues to shape Pakistani music. The lack of a definitive answer is perhaps what makes the new music scene so great. Rohail Hyatt’s mastermind at Coke Studio continues to produce a steady stream of brilliantly recorded music, a new underground scene is emerging with success spearheaded by Aunty Disco Project and Strings leads the way in maintaining a favorable outlook no matter what they do.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vkqVvTcG-A4

Salman Ahmed of Junoon is alienated from the local media; his criticism of former bandmates and his current residence in the US has not gone down well. Meanwhile a new bunch of rockers is trying to master balancing an international outlook with a local one.

New Directions for Noori.

30 Nov 2010

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6jM9klHTeA

I finally managed to get an interview with Noori. This story was published in the first issue of Smudge Magazine (November 2010). Originally published under the title: Music Succors When Nature Abandons. Embedded above is Noori’s first studio recording, Tann Dolay, off of their upcoming third album. The song, released as a single this summer, also features internationally acclaimed duo Zeb & Haniya.

Ask many in the music industry how the local music scene is changing with the war and they respond in different ways. Often you might be told it doesn’t have anything to do with the war, at times people will say the war is used as an excuse for the failings of the music industry and the rest may say that the musical rebellion has lost its way, like everything else in the war. The local music scene is searching for ways to find its footing in a climate marred by all sorts of bad news.

Many now look back to the early 2000’s as the golden period of post Junoon/Vital Signs modern pop and rock. A new generation of rockers had found their voice and found their labels. The experience seemed short lived though: audiences began to fade as the quality acts either broke up or began to take time off. Concerts began to dwindle, record labels had lost their touch and popular musicians began to be associated with a disconnected class that lives in a bubble of its own, like the fashion industry today.

However, the floods might have spelt good news, albeit in unconventional ways, for the music industry. As I began to contact Noori for this piece, it was obvious they were swamped with first recordings, and then flood relief work that they have enthusiastically undertaken. They might be devising new ways for music to come back as an essential fabric in our new social structure.

Seven years on from their debut, the release of Noori’s third record, as announced in their one of a kind video blog, was highly anticipated.

“We were actually quite busy and all geared up to launch our 3rd album this September. But with the floods all plans got washed away”, Hamza says, “It took us some time to gear up for relief work, especially since we had consciously stayed out of the fundraising scene ever since we got into this profession.”

“However, this year had been about exploring new directions,” both personally and musically it seems for Noori. After leading the organization of ‘Celebrity Camp’ at the Mall of Lahore, which brought together a diverse range of personalities, from Call the Band to Shoaib Akhtar to Todd Shea (followed by an unconventionally transparent video blog entry showing the counting of the money), Noori has decided to launch their own platform, Khayal Rakhna (take care), which has been launched with impressive humility and lack of PR shenanigans.

“Our focus will be on raising funds and mobilizing our fan-base for the rehabilitation phase. We recently completed our first activity, which was to spend Eid with the displaced. We focused especially on the children who, we feel, need the most support. We intend to carry on with Khayal Rakhna even beyond the Floods and pursue a variety of causes that we feel we can take upon. This is just the beginning for us, and we expect a lot of evolution before things get streamlined.”

The floods hitting just before Ramadan meant that musicians’ contributions were going to be limited, at least for the month. But the lack of performances has perhaps given them time to plan out their efforts, and many, like Noori, are now running their own campaigns and not just sporadic fundraising concerts. This whole effort makes you think how much our modern crop of pop/rock stars can do outside of the major cities. Little work exists that tries to look at how deep into the roots of this country our popular music actually goes. Have the floods given the music industry a chance to truly stamp its Pakistani identity?

“Well, honestly speaking, we are in very interesting times – a kind of a melting pot. There are serious communication and perceptual gaps between the metropolis and the ‘areas affected by floods’ (because of the floods, these areas have come to the forefront, but the divide is there, irrespective of the calamity). Yet, there is immense potential to bridge these gaps, especially with the new technological developments taking place – communication is getting easier and faster by the day. On top of that, music is beyond cultural and linguistic barriers.”

“The onus is now upon the musician community, as to how they use their communication capabilities in helping bring about some constructive changes in this melting pot. The potential is immense, but directions are seriously needed.”

This issue goes beyond celebrity outlook, and into the actual music as well. Rock acts have oscillated for decades now between the East and the West to the find the ‘Pakistani’ sound. While a healthy demand for urdu western rock exists, only acts that have found unique ways to blend east with west have made it very big internationally, case in point the meteoric international rise of Junoon compared to the Vital Signs and the recent fame of Zeb & Haniya.  Noori’s first two records have been largely western, barring perhaps Manwa re, which Ali Noor has often described as ‘not a Noori song’. This third album might be more experimental, according to Noori.

‘It is clear to us that we have a variety of styles to offer and we can actually deliver well on the different fronts we take upon. So we will explore a variety of genres.”

“The third album might specifically focus on our existing listenership – it’s about consolidating the platform we already have command over, but the intention is to expand over the next few years, into as many directions as possible. So, within this album, we also intend to show a few glimpses of what the future has in store.”

This future, as Noori told us, is to release many albums in quick succession to finally put out “a hell of a lot of music” that Noori has been creating. They note that the Pakistani music scene is slowly shifting to a singles driven market, the album is losing its life and the one-album-every-four-years plan will no longer work. And with more music out, one can expect that Noori’s international exposure should also rise.

“Our international recognition has increased a lot, especially after Coke Studio. Secondly, good or bad, Pakistan is getting a lot of PR internationally, hence avenues are opening up. People are getting intrigued by this nation and culture is the first thing they look at. Music is the primary representative of Pakistani culture, so yes, things are looking good in coming times.”

While the floods and subsequent activities with Khayal Rakhna, which has included volunteer enrollment in various cities, Noori is back in the studio. “A lot of multitasking is happening”, they tell us excitedly.

This third album, surprisingly, is not part of the famed trilogy that Suno Ke Main Hun Jawan and Peeli Patti aur Raja Jani ki Gol Dunya formed the first two thirds of. The album echoes the SKMHJ sentiment of “believing in yourself”, but the stories are about Noori’s personal journeys this time. “The last 2 odd years have been about us rediscovering ourselves as individuals and as an enterprise (and this is not just Ali Noor and AliHamza, but the entire team that we call ‘Noori’). The 3rd album, hence, is a means to reorganize ourselves and establish ourselves as a group of individuals who want to do something big with the skills and talents we share.”

The new music seems to be more introverted, more music that you ‘listen’ to, instead of just bop around to. As Ali Hamza once wrote in a blogpost to Sanjana Zehra, Ali Noor’s daughter, “As far as the immediate is concerned – how I will be a part of your upbringing, I would mostly want it to be via observation, i.e. you observing my growing up.” We hope we get to hear a more grown up sound, a’la Peeli Patti. A more mature soundtrack for an audience that grown with Noori.

It is not clear how this album will be released at this point, but in the light of the changing dynamics of the music industry locally and internationally, and also perhaps owing to the dismal state of record labels and television music channels in Pakistan, Noori say they are open to experiment.

Noori’s releases have been sporadic at best, and they have often disappeared from the music scene entirely, but they have always managed to command a loyal cult following. After their “rebirth” in Coke Studio 2, however, as Ali Hamza calls it, with Noori discovering more of its mellower eastern Manwa re vibe, and perhaps more, Noori’s reputation in the industry and outside has grown manifold not just as talented live performers but also as highly skilled composers. Their lyrics on the other hand, while widely considered meaningful, have been often criticized as simplistic and repetitive.

“As far as we are concerned, we have never felt that our lyrics were incomplete. The message and intention behind every song we have written is clear in our heads. And then, art is meant to be interpreted in many different ways.

As far as limitations in our command over the language is concerned, it is a maturing process. We are evolving and we love to evolve. Personally and frankly, we feel much better off than most of our contemporaries because we work with ideas, not just words – which are, in fact, only a means of communicating those ideas. Our criticism of many of our contemporaries is that they bypass the ideas and focus on beautifying language. The difference becomes clearer once we evaluate and compare our work with many others over a longer time-span. We can confidently say that a Noori song has a longer life. And the reason for that is our focus on communicating ideas; ideas which are modern and reach out to the heart and mind of a contemporary Pakistani. If that weren’t the case, we wouldn’t have survived for 9 years with just 2 albums!”

They are open to working with lyricists and old poetry, which has been the case in some of their biggest hits, but they believe even their lyrics might be appreciated more as time goes on.

…………………..

The release of Peeli Patti was hit by the earthquake of 2005. Consequentially sales were slow and the album took a while to make it big time. Noori then disappeared for a while, as the music scene soon began to catch on to a downwards trend.

One hopes that political and natural disasters do not continue to mar the release of albums like they did with Mauj and Kaavish earlier this year, among others. As Noori points out though, the number of concerts has actually risen after the floods, compared to the “dead scene” prior. The responsibility to help out our countrymen is pushing a movement to stand up against fear rallied by extremist elements.

Music is finally giving an outlet to our frustrated ‘awam‘. So the ice of social taboo, as mentioned earlier, is actually breaking. Which is great news!”

There is work to do though. “It has taken a few decades for Pakistanis to realise that our music and musicians are a unique asset we have has a nation. We stand out globally on this front, and we are finally realising that.” This might be the time that we begin to create a social and musical legacy around a promising, hopeful part of life in modern Pakistan.

Garmi On – Urban Life & the Underground.

9 Nov 2010

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_X-Zqv5hc0

This is Garmi On (the heat is on), a single by underground band Moen Jo Daro (named after Pakistan’s famous ancient ruins). Ironically, considering the name, the song itself is about Pakistan’s modern love for ancient times, load shedding and all.

The song is unbelievably promising. The first thing you think about of course, is the lyrics, which aren’t the best piece of writing you’ll ever see, will be flicked away by traditionalist Urdu speakers but are relevant, and anything about load shedding is bound to strike a chord. Reminds you of the Junoon days, where anti establishment rants were chic, now they’re just sort of cliched, kind of like the soon to be ‘we-must-fix-things-ourselves’ patriotic vibe.

The lyrics are a great glimpse into Pakistani urban life today. From references of the UPS (backup power supply), of electricity coming back on the hour (power cuts occur on a timetable), and then the language. The title itself, Garmi On, is a glimpse of how minglish (or Urdish) as we call it, Urdu mingled with English is the urban language spoken today. This has traditionally been looked down upon by traditional Urdu speakers, and is continued evidence of Urdu’s weakening as a language. Recently however, scholars have come to the defense of minglish, with linguist Tariq Rahman talking at TEDxLahore 2010 about how this is a natural process that we must grow with. The entire talk is embedded after the break.

Musically the song is catchy, it’s mixed well, which is a nice change for underground bands. The guitar riff in the beginning is very interesting, it’s going for the whole wall of sound effect, but with fast fret work intertwined with it, which gets you intrigues as you begin listening. The bass riff is catchy, clearly supportive to the guitar but nothing groundbreaking there. The entire sound is reminiscent of the freedom of not having a drummer in the band, kind of like the Vital Signs days, when you’d have to make do with a metronomic electronic beat and make your music on top of it, which sparked a lot of creativity sonically. I’m not sure if Moen Jo Daro have a drummer, this song is the last I heard of them until I tried researching for this post, to which I found some bad recordings of live cover performances. I hope they keep playing though. The only disappointment, somewhat so, is the vocals in the song, which just seem a bit too heavy for the music. Perhaps if the band were to do another recording that would fix itself, but as of now it just doesn’t let the song flow.

But for the many who are crying that Pakistani music has gone too commercial, Garmi On, is a really interesting sign.

Download the audio here. (Via Koolmuzone)

A translation of the lyrics if you click below.

(more…)

Picking up the Sagar Veena.

4 Nov 2010

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jS4iOkiVsVQ

Noor Zehra Kazim is perhaps the world’s only player of the Sagar Veena, a string instrument designed for use in North Indian Classical Music, developed entirely in Pakistan over the last 40 years. I first heard of her when I found the Sanjan Nagar Institute’s website, a few years ago. News about Sanjan Nagar and the Sagar Veena has been slow to reach out to the mainstream, though it seems that even before its popular debut, the institute and the instrument were a big deal among the intellectual circles of 21st century Pakistan.

Sanjan Nagar is the brainchild of renowned lawyer Raza Kazim, who has made his name as one of the leading intellectuals in Pakistan, regularly publishing papers and tackling subjects from neurology to philosophy to music. The Sanjan Nagar Institute of Philosophy and Arts is known for the opportunities it provides for women especially.

The Sagar Veena has been under development since the 1970s, constantly being fine tuned under the supervision of Raza Kazim and instrument maker Mohammed Riaz. The former’s daughter, Noor Zehra Kazim, has been instrumental in testing the instrument and providing her feedback as a classical musician. Together the three have created an instrument that signifies a revolution of sound production in North Indian Classical Music.

The Sagar Veena‘s is capable of producing an unparalleled range of sound timbres and pitch registers, providing the musician with the ability to take her music to new levels and directions. The unique sound of the instrument is a result of its close modeling on the sound of the human voice, in an effort to capture the emotion and intellectual depth of the vocal in an instrumental form. By separating the vibrating and resonating parts of the instrument into separate bodies, the designers have managed to create a highly clear, resonant sound. And while the instrument continues to be tweaked, it is finally stable enough to be played in the studio and in front of live audiences.

Having followed the Sagar Veena for a while, it made perfect sense for us to give the instrument a stage at TEDxLahore 2010. Sanjan Nagar was contacted, and the deal was closed. The introduction of the instrument into popular music with this year’s Coke Studio only made the hype greater.

I walked into Ali Auditorium on rehearsal day with Noor Zehra Kazim doing her sound check on the stage, it was choppy, she wouldn’t play for too long, would ask her colleagues in the back row if they could hear her, but she clearly knew what she was doing. The sound check itself was simple, it was just one microphone over the Sagar Veena, and the team got the sound it wanted over the Bose system specially installed for the event. The Veena was moved, and Noor Zehra Kazim would step off comfortably, the performance now prepared for and the day’s work done. It was the coordination of her ride home that became my first interaction with her. She is soft spoken, gentle, overwhelmingly kind and caring, a motherly figure who wholeheartedly trusted us inexperienced young lads to make sure her performance went well. You are forced to lose all your temper and smile as you talk to her, there is no sense of ill timed urgency, no barrier of experience.

The day of the event, the Sagar Veena sat elegantly on stage, as we tried to make as much use of it as possible. A presentation on Sanjan Nagar by musicologist and sitar player Beena Raza was followed by Noor Zehra Kazim’s performance. The performance itself was largely improvisational, as with most Indian Classical musical performances, which is one of the reasons why it is so hard to find good recordings of classical music in Pakistan today. But as with all performances, even with improv, an artist’s skill, and emotional connection with both the audience and the music is obvious, and Noor Zehra Kazim’s was extra ordinary. She walked the crowd through an 8 minute solo melody, no accompanying percussion, just the sitar like sound, but more pronounced and more varied.

The mood is set with a minute long alap, as the instrument is tuned an she plays an interesting rhythm to set the mood of the raag to follow. A conversation follows, a melody that begins on higher notes, that get sharper and more pronounced as the raag progresses, is put against a counter melody of bassy, richer notes, an answer to emotional laments that are perhaps meant to harness similar emotions in a slightly different manner. Even as the raag shifts from one part to another, a unity remains, with the traditional drone of Indian Classical music makes its appearance throughout, guiding the 400 strong live audience from absolute silence to a standing ovation.

In Hor Vi Neevan Ho, the Coke Studio song that Noor Zehra performs with her sons (rock sensation Noori), the Sagar Veena puts on a new avatar. Noori said in an interview that this year’s Coke Studio experience for them was largely about embedding the Veena into popular music, and the instrument takes center stage. But as behind the scenes footage shows, Noor Zehra does not normally play to a constant looping percussion rhythm, hence much of her adaptation comes from switching from free form playing to a structured rehearsed part that fits into a tradition western song structure, even though it might be in an eastern scale or musical style. For their really is no eastern structure of a song, their exists a performance, but with many popular musicians gaining their footing as western style rock musicians, Pakistani eastern classical recordings are now moulded into western song structures that are easy listening for the modern audience.

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUcaCYx0kzI

As the song begins, you notice there is no time for an alap, no mood setting, the melody digs straight in, and Noor Zehra plays a compliment to Ali Hamza’s baritone vocals, filling in a song that has limited lyrical elements but makes its mark with instrumental work and raw vocal emotion. The Veena takes a back seat as the song picks up with Ali Noor’s rockier vocal, but the tone is set, as the keyboards and drum set take over from the Sagar Veena and the dholak.

The song itself is a cover of an old private recording by folk singer Hamid Ali Bela, recorded by Raza Kazim himself, and is a soundtrack for increased tolerance and understanding, under the common theme of respecting the blessings we have, and showing our gratitude and respect by bowing our heads.

The significance of the Sagar Veena as an instrumental breakthrough, as well as a symbol of prowess of Pakistani musicians has still not been fully realized. The concert going crowd, which is already depressed due to a lack of concerts will have little to do with the Veena, and Sanjan Nagar is still, for the moment a small step in a large country full of larger problems. But even in the music business, which artists still lament is yet to become an ‘industry’, whatever you suppose that entails, there is little to suggest that this will become the popular art of this decade. It might just be however, one of the most important pieces of art and engineering to hit the music scene in a while. As for the non musical types, a meeting with Noor Zehra Kazim might give them enough nostalgia to hang on to with music.

Rehman Malik, Please don’t make Pakistan another xenophobic society.

10 Oct 2010

So I just read this in Dawn,

ISLAMABAD: Interior Minister Rehman Malik on Saturday stated that Nato’s apology for violating Pakistan border limits has been accepted.Malik announced this in Islamabad where he was laying the foundation stone for the memorial being built for the martyred policemen. Malik said that the international community should recognise the fact that Pakistan has given countless sacrifices in the war against terrorism.

The minister said that the Interior Ministry will make a record of all the existing religious seminaries in the country and will also investigate [emphasis added] the students coming to study in these seminaries from abroad.

Malik also announced that a welfare housing society will be constructed for the families of martyred policemen. He appointed former Inspector General of Police Dil Jaan Khan as the chairman of the committee for this society. Malik said that Khan will also be appointed an an honorary adviser of the Interior Ministry.

He said that for the recognition of the sacrifices made by the police force, a national day will also be announced. – DawnNews

First off, I respect all the government’s stance on the killing of Pakistani soldiers recently. It was the right reaction, it was needed, and we needed to make it as big a deal as it was made. Especially with even ‘objective’ media in the US such as the New York Times reporting that the NATO forces fired in self defense, hence killing Pakistani personnel. Not saying that it was a mistake, hence giving off the impression that the Pakistan army too has gone rogue against the ‘good guys’. This was a horrendous breach of trust and good faith, and it was time Pakistan finally raised its voice.

I don’t think we had a choice to not accept the apology. But the fact that the US and NATO both saw how vital their supply routes through Pakistan are, makes a huge difference. As Akbar Ahmed pointed out to me a few days ago, this was possible breaking point for the Afghanistan War. Things could have gone south, really south.

But then Rehman Malik goes and commits this ‘investigation’ gaff. I understand where the need arises from. Religious seminaries, and many foreign students enrolled there (aside of Pakistanis) have been a source of rising extremist ideology in Pakistan. Note that these are perhaps not all religious seminaries, but some.

Even if I were to take on face value, that all foreign students at these seminaries are likely to become extremists, the fact that we are ‘investigating’ them, and using that word specifically, reminds me of the immigration control I go through every time I come to the US.  I’m only taken to a secondary inspection queue/room and asked a few more questions, others of course have been investigated even more, psychologically tormented and even deported, for no apparent reason than suspect value.

I don’t want to think of Pakistan as another place where this is happens. Pakistan and America were both created on the same grounds of freedom, especially freedom to practice religion. Pakistan has been famously cited for its hospitality (even if artificially so), and I want that to remain a living dialog.

Pakistan has never, especially not now, needed even more xenophobia, especially government sponsored fear and tyranny against foreigners. This is our chance to fix these gaping hypocritical policy flaws. We have seen them gone wrong elsewhere in the world, and have also seen how hard it is to get rid of them.

These little gaffs of vocabulary cannot be left loose.