Giving you the Willies

Norah Jones just released a new album with her country music band, the Little Willies (listen here). I suspected the love that dare not speak its name from her country-inflected second album, Feels Like Home.

In the late-night hours, the smoky-voiced jazz singer and her friends would go out to one of [New York’s] intimate music clubs and – in front of an audience no less – get on stage with her friends to belt out … country tunes… Her band – known as the Little Willies – has released its first [self-titled] album, filled with rollicking covers of songs by the likes of Kris Kristofferson, Willie Nelson, and Hank Williams Jr., plus a few penned by the Little Willies’ own members…

Their label name, Milking B., reminds me of my favorite milk brand name in Bombay, Milkerji:

The band realized they were doing more than just fooling around when they decided to do an extended gig at the Living Room, the small music space and bar that would become their base when they performed in New York… Alexander and Jones, who are also a couple, were building a home studio and wanted to record something to test it out… The whole album was recorded in less than two days and released on their imprint label, Milking B. [Link]

Home for Jones means Texas and country:

For Jones, a Texas native with a longtime love for jazz, playing with the band helped her realize her own roots, back to the days when her grandmother would play the old-time country songs. [Link]

But one could also imagine an alternate universe where home meant releasing an album of rockin’ Bengali folk music

Since nobody’s said it yet, I’ll give the obvious answer to Jones’ signature plaint:

Q: ‘I feel as empty as a drum / Don’t know why I didn’t come’
A: Little Willies

Indeed, Jones is no prude.

Related posts: Norah and Dolly’s double-E’s, Norahhh!: Jones’ big fat Greek wedding

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Sounds like a protest to me

Yesterday Taz brought you an account of desis representing at the immigration protests here on the West Coast. SM tipster “Mann” let’s us know about some desi representation on the East Coast in the form of some “rebel music.” The band Outernational was playing a protest in NYC. Sonny Suchdev (pictured right) plays the trumpet, vocals, dhol, and bongos for Outernational. I get the impression that conservative blogger Michelle Malkin wasn’t feelin’ the t-shirt that Sonny wore to the protest. According to her sources they “…provided music, including a song dedicated to the Muslims who rioted in France last year called ‘Riviera Uproar’.” Here is a clip which appears to be recorded from Monday’s concert. Alternet.org has a profile of the band who sat down to be interviewed by Naeem Mohaiemen in March:

Suchdev wearing a shirt on Monday that reads: “America is scary”

I’ve been following the band Outernational — with their fearless melange of punk, rap, ska, bhangra and afrobeat — since 2003. While still not a household name, the group began to make waves at 2004’s Republican National Convention protests in New York. That’s where they played (at the “Axis of Justice” concert organized by Tom Morello, formerly of Rage Against the Machine) to a large crowd of pissed-off activists, many of them Critical Mass bike riders who had just watched the NYPD target and arrest scores of their own (the Bloomberg administration claimed that “anarchists” had infiltrated the group bike ride). The repercussions of that day’s mass arrests and police mistreatment continue to reverberate in Outernational’s NYC home base.

Even before Outernational’s breakout performance at the RNC protests, they had fans — like me — regularly attending their shows for a political floor-stomping fix. In 2000, as the New York Times pondered the possible death of “protest music”, older anti-establishment voices like Consolidated, Public Enemy, Fugazi, and Negativland were dimming, and fans needed something new. Into the gap stepped Outernational, which came together in late 2003 with a heady mix of radical politics and furious beats. [Link]

Sonny describes how he got started with the band:

I had been an activist since I was a teenager and had been playing the trumpet since I was nine, but I had never found the right group of people to combine music and politics in a band. One day that fall, I was at dinner with some friends after a meeting (about post-9/11 detentions of immigrants), and Jesse [the bassist] was also there. He commented on the Skatalites T-shirt I was wearing, and we of course started talking about music. He told me about his friend Miles [vocals, lyrics] and how they were getting together and jamming with different people in the basement. I asked him what kind of music they were into, and he replied, “We’re on an outernationalist rebel music tip.” I had a good feeling about this. [Link]

Did anyone see them at the protest on Monday? The band’s website has both music and video clips you can check out, as does their MySpace page.

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The spices speak to me

Director Paul Mayeda Berges was quoted in DNA today about his new movie The Mistress of Spices:

The other key element was to… give each spice its own Indian instrument so you could know when they were calling out to Tilo. The chillies warn her with a tabla. Chandan, kala jeera, tulsi, hing and cinnamon each have their own sounds.

I’ll bet that what the spices are telling Tilo is, ‘Stop exoticizing us, wench!’ Spice-tabla-Chocolat-sex: Tilo Does Oakland

Related posts: Juicier matters, Coffee cant, We’ve got a live one!, Sakina’s Restaurant, Anatomy of a genre, M-m-me so hungry, Buzzword bingo

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Nabokov Ninnington

With apologies to The Namesake

2006

On a wet August monsoon evening two weeks before her due date, Jennifer Ninnington stands in the kitchen of a Pali Hill apartment, combining Bournvita and Horlicks and crumbled chocolate in a bowl. She adds sugar, flour, egg whites, wishing there were yeast to pour into the mix. Jennifer has been consuming this concoction throughout her pregnancy, a humble approximation of the brownies sold for two bucks in New York cafés and at large train stations throughout America, spilling from saran wrap. She wipes sweat from her face with the free end of her denim shirt. Her swollen feet ache against speckled white marble. She reaches for another chocolate bar, frowning again as she pulls at its crisp gold wrapper. A curious warmth floods her abdomen, followed by a tightening so severe she doubles over, gasping without sound, dropping the chocolate bar with a thud on the floor.

She calls out to her husband, Andy, an MBA candidate at IIM-Bombay, who is studying in the bedroom. He leans over a card table; the edge of their bed, a queen mattress under a pastel blue pinstriped twill spread, serves as his chair. Continue reading

Menerith Has Never Been Hotter

“Hell-o!” she trills, happily.

“Ma! What! IÂ’m busy watching ‘Moses‘!”

(laughter)

“Sure you are. Listen, I need to ask you something.”

“You’re stopping me from being more Christian! Bad mummy!”

“Oh, please kochu. The church will collapse when you next walk in. Anyway, are you still in touch with your cousin Susan I…….?”

“Yeah, mos def. Why?”

“Her father is trying to reach me at home…”

“We’ve had the same phone number for 22 years–“

“Edi blonde, would you be quiet if you’re not going to think before talking?”

Moses! I’m missing Moses! It’s a miniseries and you’re interrupting part one, yo.

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Piercings

I had recently gone to a Bengali family party, and was sitting on the floor talking to an older auntie type, when I noticed she had something gold in her nose. I asked her what it was, and with a little pull here and there, she pulled out a punk-rock style gold septum ring. A little shocking, since as a desi girl I was more familiar with the more traditional nose piercings, but not the septum style. She continued by telling the story of how she got it as a girl, and and how the piercing was supposed to bring shanti on her husband- basically (what I garnered from my poor Bengali) anytime she exhaled, she would be bringing good luck on her mate.

Nose piercing was first recorded in the Middle East approximately 4,000 years ago… Nose piercing was bought to India in the 16th Century from the Middle East by the Moghul emperors. In India a stud (Phul) or a ring (Nath) is usually worn in the left nostril, It is sometimes joined to the ear by a chain, and in some places both nostrils are pierced. The left side is the most common to be pierced in India, because that is the spot associated in Ayuvedra (Indian medicine) with the female reproductive organs, the piercing is supposed to make childbirth easier and lessen period pain.[link]

The septum piercing that this auntie had is the second most popular piercing next to ear-piercings and even more popular than the traditional nose piercings.

The piercing is also popular in India, Nepal, and Tibet, a pendant “Bulak” is worn, and some examples are so large as to prevent the person being able to eat, the jewellery has to be lifted up during meals. In Rajasthan in Himachal Pradesh these Bulak are particularly elaborate, and extremely large.[link]

See mom, body piercings are a part of our culture! That line of reasoning didn’t quite fly as well when I presented it to her after I got mine. I personally opted for the chin-piercing better known as the labret back when I turned 22.

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One Night In Paris. In West Bengal.

Maybe it’s because I live in Los Angeles. But I’ll be the first to admit it. I love celebrity gossip. Imagine my surprise when I heard this report on the news this morning.

Mother Teresa. Totally see the resemblance.

Paris Hilton is on the short-list to play beatified nun Mother Teresa in an upcoming bipoic of the late Nobel Peace Prize winner. Film director T. Rajeevnath said his idea to cast the 25-year-old celebutante after a computer-generated image showed a close facial match between “The Simple Life” simpleton and the Albanian-born holy woman. “(Hilton’s) features resemble Mother Teresa’s,” Rajeevnath said. [link]

Waaaaait a second. Didn’t we just play the ‘who’s famous face matches mine’ game using a computer-generated image facial matching website here on Sepia Mutiny only a few months back?

I’ll just let you know that I ended up at a verrry interesting website, which scanned a picture I uploaded before telling me which celebrity in its database I resembled. See whom YOU don’t look like by going to MyHeritage.com y’self. [link]

I mean, Rajeevnath is Indian. Maybe he reads Sepia Mutiny and maybe, just maybe, that is what compelled him to pick Paris Hilton. That, and this:

But it was when the director read an article in which Hilton said she had turned down the chance to pose nude for Playboy maggie that he believed he had found the woman to emulate Mother Teresa’s good works. Shooting in several countries, including West Bengal will begin early next year.

Proceeds from the film will benefit the Missionaries of Charity.

Missionaries. Paris Hilton. Hmm… I wonder how familiar she is with that line of work…

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Worth a lick?

Indian Americans have been trying for a long time to get the U.S. Postal Service to issue a Diwali stamp. The Aussies on the other hand have gone the extra kilometer. They have featured Bollywood star Saif Ali Khan on one of their postage stamps. See for yourself:

Saif Ali Khan who has danced his way to Australian history with his performance in Commonwealth Games. He became the first Indian to feature on a postage stamp published in Australia.

50-cent stamp has Saif among those released on March 27. It shows him on stage in a green kurti with other dancers. Rani Mukherjee and Aishwarya Rai had no such luck who were with Saif from Bollywood. [Link]
I can’t help but find this funny. Indians didn’t really represent at the Olympics, but seemed to do okay at the Commonwealth Games. Still, it is a Bollywood star that is on one of the official stamps from the games and not an athlete.

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I’m not afraid of Elvis

I was looking at the photos from the recent Bhangra Blowout [thanks Amardeep] and was struck by the non-desi dancers in the photos. What confuses me is why I’m surprised at all.

Growing up, NYC was a giant thali of different cultural practices. Black kids did Kung Fu and Lion Dances, Chinese Americans breakdanced and rapped. Culture wasn’t “apna,” it was for anybody willing to put the time in to learn. I probably did as much Irish and Israeli folk dancing (yes, I’m a dork) as a kid as I did Punjabi folk dancing. I should be no more surprised to see a non-Punjabi, non-desi, dancing Bhangra than I am surprised to see a non-Latino doing Salsa, or a non-Korean doing Tae Kwan Do.

Still, I’m not used to it, and I think that other desis are even less used to it than I am. We tend to snark a lot about white people doing puja or yoga, criticizing their pronunciation, saying that they don’t somehow grok the soul of the practice. Well guess what – it’s not going to stop there and we ABCDs are hypocrites if we’re affronted. Let’s be honest, many of us sit here and learn the words to Hindi songs phonetically, just like the non-desi next to us. We’re cosmopolitan, not essentialist, in all other aspects of our lives.

We’re just scared that if somebody else can do these things, these things that we associate with our homes, cook our food, speak our languages, worship our God(s), dance our dances, sing our songs, as well as we can or better that we’ll lose our distinctiveness. That’s understandable but dumb.

Yes, I’m better at dancing Bhangra than most non-desis, but that doesn’t mean that I have the rhythms of Punjab in my veins, just a bit more practice than some. At the end of the day, it’s about talent and enthusiasm, not ancestry (and I cringe equally when I see most non-Punjabi desis dancing Bhangra). It just takes a little while to get used to the fact that these things are now … public, and open to all.

Related posts: White girls in Brooklyn appropriate Saraswati

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