That’s just one of the memories and opinions that DJ Rekha, tireless queen of the NYC desi dance scene, shares in an interview out today in the Village Voice. Aside from the Voice’s Tricia Romano asking a question about Bollywood “blowing up” in an interview that she says was conducted on the day of the Bombay bombings, it’s a nice bit of back-and-forth; Romano more than redeems herself by designating Rekha “one of the city’s true treasures.”

One reason I wanted to post this was to give Rekha props for her straightforward and democratic opinions about nightlife:

Basement Bhangra’s stayed in one place; it hasn’t really moved around.

Well, I fortunately have a really good relationship with SOB’s. I’ve been preempted once, by Celia Cruz, which I gladly gave up my night for. But outside of that, clubland sucks. It’s hard to get a space where the venue gets what you’re doing musically. Now it’s like, if you don’t have a bottle crowd . . . I mean, I could have a bottle crowd, but I don’t want to. I don’t want those pricks at my place. I don’t want anyone who’s dumb enough to buy a bottle at my party. Can you quote me on that?

I’ll even blog you on that, sister Rekha! She’s also got a comment on the desi integration into American cultural life that you might find interesting:

The success of it all used to be more surprising, the whole success of Indian-ness as a cultural phenomena, everything from Deepak Chopra to yoga to this music. It’s not a spike. It’s more integrated, in subtle ways. Like before it would be a big deal if you saw anything Indian anywhere. And now, it’s like, ‘Oh, big deal. They’re playing some lounge track in a bar.’ Or ‘Big deal, there’s an Indian character on that reality show,’ America’s Next Top Model or whatever. It’s not as much of a shock. I think that just means that we’re here to stay.

Continue reading →

Yesterday on the radio I had the pleasure of interviewing a young desi brother by the name of Imaad Wasif. He’s a guitarist and singer who is currently touring as an additional band member (and occasional opener) for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and who released his first, self-titled solo album in April. Although Imaad can rock out with the best of them, his own music is of the introspective, quiet kind, a little minimalist, a little gothic, maybe a little fey at times. Listening to the album before the interview, I really enjoyed the first half, and found the second half a little slow and less compelling. Perhaps it would have benefited from a bit more time in the Nashville studio than the week-and-a-day session that the promotional materials boast about.

Having said that, I really enjoyed Imaad’s in-studio performance: he played one song from the album, “Out in the Black,” and a new song called, if I remember right, “Spell on Me.” He’s got a great touch and a lot of sincerity. Another interesting aspect was that he came in with his guitar and an electronic drone machine called a Raagini. It’s an Indian-made box that generates a drone in the manner of a tampura. He showed me the different settings before the show and it would have been cool if we’d had more time to talk about it on the air.

Imaad is another hyper-diasporic desi — his parents come from Bombay and Hyderabad but he was born in Vancouver and grew up mainly in Palm Desert, California. There’s nothing particularly desi to his trajectory as a musician. Yet at the same time, he credits as an influence the old Indian records from his father’s collection that got damaged in a flood, so that the labels all peeled off, leaving him to listen to the vinyl without knowing who was playing; and also, here he is with this Raagini machine, weaving the very Indian drone into his live performance, even though he hasn’t — yet — used it in recordings. Hybridity: it operates in mysterious, wonderful ways.

For those who enjoy introspective indie rock, or those simply looking to hear some new sounds, check this brother out. You can hear/download our conversation and his live performance here (scroll down second segment). Continue reading →

Musafir is a band from Rajasthan (and France!) who just performed with A.R. Rahman in Hollywood, California last week. This week (Wednesday), they’re coming to the prestigious Kimmel Center in Philadelphia, to headline a show with local DJs Darshana and Chetana Borah in a supporting role.

According to the product review at Amazon, Musafir originally formed with the idea of reconnecting European Gypsy (Roma) music with the South Asian folk music it derived from hundreds of years ago. (There is very strong linguistic evidence that the primary language spoken by the Roma, Romany, has specifically Indic roots. According to Wikipedia, Punjabi is the strongest influence.)

But in recent years, Musafir appears to have moved away from the “Gypsy” theme, and now they seem to perform a potpourri of traditional Rajasthani folk styles (with a little filmi music thrown in for good measure). From what I’ve heard it isn’t clear that Musafir is necessarily “authentic,” but whatever they are, they have been doing a good job in recent years entertaining music festival crowds in the U.S. and Canada, judging from notices here, here, and here (that last link has a couple of MP3s available).

Unfortunately, none of Musafir’s music appears to be available via ITunes, though you can listen to songs for free at Rhapsody, as well as here and here. (The song available at the Kimmel Center website actually comes from the unrelated Hindi film Musafir; a bizarre mistake.) Continue reading →

For the past two weeks, since I picked it up at Artwallah, I have been listening to Chee Malabar’s new solo effort on my .mp3 player. It went on sale on-line today. Malabar is one half of the duo known as the Himalayan Project. He actually debuted the title track “Oblique Brown” at the SAAN conference to an audience that was floored by the raw (and ultimately sad) story. Here is a snippet from the title track about an incident that happened to Malabar in New York City:

It was the, moment I feared, the corner was clear,
or so I thought then a fucking cop appeared,
in my rearview, red-blue berries was flashing,
flagged me to the side of the road, started askin’
for “License, Registration”, stayed silent and patient,
waitin…as the cop ran my plates,
he came back moments later, scanning my face,
disappointed, “Ain’t no warrants in my name,
and this ride’s clean man, I got it in my mama’s name,
“What I do?”, “You ran a red, illegal U, that’s two tickets!”
“Cool, pass em over, i’d love to stay and kick it,
but I’ll catch you in court, you know I’ma fight it!”
“What! Hold up Osama, don’t be so near-sighted!”
Before I snatched the ticket, the cop got excited,
clutched his glock and screamed, “Don’t even budge bitch!”
Thought he’d call Tom Ridge to tell him “flip the color switch”
A white boy rocks a beard, he’s consided rugged,
and If I sport one, I’m a threat to the public!…

[Listen to Oblique Brown on Myspace]

Continue reading →