As any casual follower of the Washerman’s
Dog knows I happen to believe that Pakistan is one of the world’s
underappreciated musical khazanas
(treasure chest). It should come as no
surprise really. It is a great expanse
of land dissected by mighty rivers and home to the world’s longest continuous
civilisation. Its soil is soaked with
the blood of Greeks, Persians, Arabs, Sikhs, Hindus, Buddhists, Europeans and
Turks (to mention just a few) all of whom fought for possession of this rich
land and its sacred sites.
Much has been made of this history of constant conquest. Some say it
explains why democracy can’t exist there: because grabbing what you can and
stealing it away before the next marauder comes along is a more natural (and
appropriate) way to live. Pledging your allegiance to whoever has the biggest
sword is just too ingrained. I once had
a Pakistani professor explain to me that because of this brutal history modern
Pakistan could aspire only to be the world’s ‘best second rate country.’
Who knows?
One thing is beyond debate. Mixed in all that blood and mud lies some
pretty damn rich culture. Every
conquering tribe left behind a bit of itself and over the millennia huge
invisible stalagmites of music, poetry, religion and art have emerged out of
the land that so many call mera qaum
(my home). They may not be visible these giant pillars but everyone knows they
exist. And that they are to be held in deep respect.
Tonight’s post is a contemporary interpretation of and homage to some of
that ancient culture. And weirdly enough
it comes to us via the good people at Coca Cola! I’m still shaking my head but
over the past few years Coke has sponsored and indeed created a platform for
Pakistani musicians of various genres, eras and sensibilities to come together
and create new music. Or reconfigure the old stalagmites. Abida Parveen with electric keyboards and guitars. Old Sufi poetry
put to amazing new beats. Straight ahead Pakistani rock and roll.
 |
| Arif Lohar |
And I have to say some of the stuff I’m sharing tonight is about the
most exciting music I’ve heard in a long time. Especially the work of Arif Lohar, son of Alam Lohar,
arguably Punjab’s most revered folk singer. The way in which he has been able to reimagine
an old Sufi devotional song Mirza Sahiban
as a roaring 21st century rock anthem is amazing. Even more
astounding is that in the process neither he nor the music has lost a shred of
its spiritual intensity or integrity. Similarly, his reworking of one of his
father’s most loved songs Jugni is
exhilarating. But the pièce de
résistance is his mournful acoustic prayer Sal-e-Alla.
It sends shivers down the spine and ranks with one of the best spirituals of
all time. Of any tradition.
 |
| Zeb and Haniya |
In between are beautiful
pieces by the female duo Zeb and Haniya who
sing a gorgeous interpretation of a Turkish song Nazar Ayele. Karawan do
a moody slightly jazzy number Kaise
Mumkin Hai. And Atif Aslam, the
hottest singer on the subcontinent shows up with a nice Punjabi pop ballad.
So successful has this Coke
Studio concept been that this year it has migrated to (or should I say
conquered) India. I can’t wait to hear what comes next from either side of the
border.
Track Listing:
01 Mirza Sahiban (Arif
Lohar)
02 Nazar Ayele (Zeb and Haniya)
03 Hori Way Niwan (unknown)
04 Haq Mojud (Amanat Ali and Sanam Marvi)
05 Kaise Mumkin Hai (Karawan)
06 Jugni/Alif Allah (Arif Lohar and Meesha)
07 Raah Takdi (Unknown)
08 Sal-e-Aala (Arif Lohar)
09 Rona Chadta (Atif Aslam)
Listen here.
