Music OnLine : Classics : sitar

East meets West in the dance music of U.K.-based Bally Sagoo. An established DJ in high demand as a remix specialist, Sagoo has helped set the tone for the Asian underground movement. Mixing traditional instrumentation such as sitar, tabla and mandolin with House, Garage, and Techno beats, he creates club music that reaches beyond the East Indian community. Cleverly, he uses many different types of singers in his work, from Indian devotional and classical to Bhangra to Ragga to Soul vocalists. Armed with unique drum sounds, unusual breakbeats and general silliness, he rules dancefloors from Bombay to London to New York.

New Yorker Mary Lee Kortes has had a varied career in the music business as a songwriter ( Amy Grant took one of her songs into the charts) and as a background singer, but she is most impressive as a solo artist. Kortes writes grippingly tuneful narratives and sings them in a pristine, nuanced voice. Her songs are brought to life with an unhurried, loose-limbed virtuosity by a group of New York-area musicians including Freedy Johnston and Eric Ambel, who also serves as Kortes' producer. The music is fleshed out with a varied, subtly-rendered sonic palette including cello, electric sitar, mellotron and accordion.

Robert Cray is still on his career-long mission to yank the blues out of its nostalgic torpor. Alas, despite several adventurous arrangements, the accomplished axman with butter in his voice is only partially successful on Time Will Tell. There are moments of blinding inspiration here ("Up in the Sky," which juxtaposes Cray's electric sitar against the Turtle Island String Quartet), but too much of Cray's thirteenth studio effort winds up back at the done-me-wrong tavern, with the same dejected story to tell.

TOM MOON
(RS 928, August 7, 2003)

Lounge lizards addicted to Thievery Corporation's globe-trotting chill-out grooves should check out this sampler from the duo's Washington, D.C., label. Den of Thieves encompasses French dub reggae, retro-futurist sambas, sitar jams, bachelor-pad jazz and other sundry cocktail shakers; worth hearing are the previews of upcoming albums from artists such as Argentina'sFederico Aubele and Vienna's Sofa Surfers, along with recent favorites and notable outtakes.

BARRY WALTERS
(RS 928, August 7, 2003)

Street Gospel is an overlooked West Coast classic due in large part to DJ's Quik's production. That's not to take anything away from Suga Free. Though he rarely ventures thematically outside of his pimp/ho comfort zone, he easily oscillates between double-time and regular tempos and has a high, rubbery voice that glides over Quik's airy West CoWhy ast G-Funk. Quik, as usual, is mesmerizing. On "You Bullsh*ttin'?," he employs a sitar a full five years before Dr. Dre popularized South Asian sounds for "Truth Hurts."

Oasis like the Beatles! Okay, major understatement, but with the "Dear Prudence" picks closing "The Turning," the "I am the Walrus" utters in "I'm Outta Time," the "magical mystery" references and the sitar-rich "To Be Where There's Life," it's clear the Brits still heart the Fab Four. But, the Gallagher bros can't pull off being as pompous as they are by simply aping one of the best bands ever. Their haughty energy transfers into some pretty great grooves here as they shake up stadium-ready choruses with layers of dreamy drones, clap-happy rhythms, staccato bass and hip-shakin' beats.

Founder of '90s punk-funk heroes Primus and several similarly skewed spin-offs, Les Claypool releases his first album under his name alone. Of Whales and Woe swerves between tight, aggressive structure and fuzzy, maniacal jamming. The ace of bass recorded it in his Rancho Relaxo studio in Northern California and played nearly every instrument himself, with a few key guest appearances on sax, vibraphone and sitar. (Album opener "Back off Turkey" actually features Claypool's daughter Lena and son Cage.) As in-yer-face weird and groovy as anything Claypool's ever done.

Unceremoniously ejected from the Pharcyde in their heyday, Fatlip resurfaced in 2000 wearing clown makeup in Spike Jonze's video for "What's Up Fatlip?" Included here, that classic finds a fine follow-up in "Today's Your Day," a sitar-powered singalong featuring Jurassic 5's Chali 2na. Beyond the self-analysis ("I coulda been a legend like Big and 'Pac/Instead I caught a bad case of writer's block"), Lip's peculiar humor and slobbery delivery put him in the rarefied company of cherished weirdos Cab Calloway and Ol' Dirty Bastard.

There are only so many places you can take the Velvet Underground at this late date, and after an overly indie indie debut, this cheeky Anglo-Punjabi consortium has found one. Sometimes the signature trick of spicing up the art-punk drones with Indian ones is self-evident because the sitar or tamboura gives it away; other times you sit there wondering where exactly they stole that rough yet perfect chord. Also included are found sound, lo-fi textures, various keyb cheats, and the casually irresistible Punjabi street tune of "6 A.M. Jullandar Shere," all mixed in with just the right edge of false naivete. (Grade: A-)

Four side-long "pieces" that serve as a sampler of Davis's pre-On the Corner early-'70s music, with Miles playing trumpet throughout (intermittently throughout) and such luminaries as Wayne Shorter and John McLaughlin doing a lot to define their respective segments. The sitar-and-tamboura interlude that untracks the gently loping "Great Expectations" about two-thirds of the way through is typical of the album's failures--the only side that doesn't wind down prematurely is "Lonely Fire," which after meandering at the beginning develops into lyrical mood music reminiscent in spirit and fundamental intent of Sketches of Spain. But for the most part this is uncommonly beautiful stuff, and it gets better. (Grade: A-)

Dubya is the earthly king of Christian rock, returned to the pop fold after several profitable forays into the worship scene. His voice both strong and pleasant (though he's no Amy Grant), he commands an unusually detailed palette of stale CCR studio techniques ("Eagles Fly" sports a sitar). He rocks mechanically hard on songs about perseverance and aspiration that don't mention the Lord's name and sounds sad about AIDS in Africa, or maybe famine (or animism). "I Am Love" is pretty mystical, and he essays "Bridge Over Troubled Water," by the Jewish songwriter Paul Simon. In general, though, the words are not a plus. (Grade - D+)

Following 1968's Nancy and Lee, Sinatra and Hazlewood made a lesser known, but equally awesome sequel of duets in 1972. Where the '68 classic had a playful version of "Jackson," and of course the ethereal "Some Velvet Morning," round two boasts the semi-epic suite, "Arkansas Coal" (an orchestrated country folk song with go-go horns and a beautifully eerie narrative about a girl climbing a mountain to find her trapped coalminer father). The rest of the album beautifully weaves string-heavy baroque pop with the occasional sitar and subtly countrified touches. "Down From Dover" is a standout.

As you may have guessed by the title, the solo debut from former Brand Nubian member Lord Jamar is packed with the sort of Five Percent rhetoric that will probably land him on some terrorist watch list. There's a lot of talk about numerology, the four devils and the Nations of God and Earth, and oftentimes 5% feels like more of a religious tract than it does a hip-hop album. Like Jamar says, this is "jihad music." Still, the sitar-anchored "I.S.L.A.M." and the rawking "Revolution" are grimy and immediate. Fans of '90s hip-hop will eat this up, particularly Jamar's reunion with Grand Puba on "The Corner, the Streets."

Memorize Dylan poems, late '60s Stones records and the Mamas & the Papas. Get inspired; strum, write, harmonize. If this wasn't the Dutchess and the Duke's plan, it sure sounds like it was. While their barebones folk-rock at times crosses the line between admiring and aping (is that a little "Paint It Black" sitar in "The Prisoner"?), it's mostly just raw good fun with a witty tack and a poignant core. With maracas, whistles, flutes, handclaps, quick-witted rhymes and playful harmonies, these guys are like ultra-cool campfire buddies who put your "Kumbaya"-ing neighbors to shame.

Since the premise of the Cheetah Girls' 2008 Disney Channel Original Movie is that the Girls (sans Raven-Symone) are set to star in a Bollywood musical, it's pretty much a given that the soundtrack is going to be packed to the gills with samples of tablas, sitar and bhangra cuts. Cases in point: "Dance Me If You Can," the ebullient title track. But we're talking about the Cheetah Girls here, so there's also plenty of feel-good sentiment and booty-shaking beats. Case in point: uh, everything. Each Girl takes a solo; in fact, the album oddly ends on Kiely's sad slow jam.

As the best known Indian musician, Shankar has helped expand the traditionally closed repertoire of North Indian Classical music. Under the guidance of guru Allauddin Khan, father of Ali Akbar Khan, Shankar forged a split from the more traditional styles of the equally important playing school led by Vilayat Khan. Shankar's initial innovation was a buzzier tone and flashier playing techniques that clashed with the sitar's historically more serious, solemn tone, drawing criticism from more conservative musicians. Collaborations with Western Artists such as Yehudi Menuhin and The Beatles further opened the music's boundaries, paving the way for more experimental outings by artists including Zakir Hussain and Trilok Gurtu. Though his sound became synonymous with psychedelia in the '60s, Shankar did not enjoy the role of "trip" leader. Indeed, it takes a very clear mind and vigorous practice to reach the level of technical mastery and spiritual power that Shankar has achieved.

Screaming Trees bassist Van Conner and Seaweed vocalist Aaron Stauffer formed Gardener on the heels of their respective bands' demise, though the two artists had been friends since the 1980s. Their long-anticipated collaboration doesn't seem to offer any unsolvable mysteries or immediate brilliance upon first listen -- not that there need be any, for it offers a veritable feast of Middle Eastern guitar and sitar-flavored '60s Psychedelia in the vein of Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit." Filtered through Indie Rock (think Pavement's "Summer Babe"), that's nothing to shake a stick at. Still, things get a lot more interesting after the first few listens; it's only after the dry introductory period that Gardener's classic sound begins to take on a timeless, intangible quality not soon forgotten.

One of the top violinists of the twentieth century, Yehudi Menuhin began his illustrious career with a series of stunning concerts in San Francisco, New York and Paris -- all when he was between the ages of seven and ten years old. Phenomenal technique, a rich depth of tone and a maturity far beyond his years led him to interpret the works of masters Beethoven, Bach and Mozart, attacking solos and concertos with a passion rarely rivaled. In the 1950s, Menuhin began to focus on conducting, developing a taste for Indian Classical music that led to a series of groundbreaking collaborations with sitar maestro Ravi Shankar. Though the vigor of his early recordings faded in his later work, the socially engaged Menuhin has left a large body of music and a legacy filled with countless musical and humanitarian awards.

To the Western world, Ravi Shankar is the man who introduced the sitar to generations of listeners. To the connoisseur of Hindustani classical music, Vilayat Khan is as important, if not more so, in the instrument's development. Khan's style, as opposed to Shankar's, is less buzzing and more lyrical and sonorous -- though he's extremely capable of a lightning-fast, floral run if the mood of the raga calls for it. His style, labeled gayaki ang, was developed to emulate traditional vocal styles such as dhrupad. It comes across most strongly when Khan explores the slow, note-by-note explication of the alap section of a composition. Khan's family is one of the most respected and influential of all musical gharanas in India, with a lineage that includes his grandfather Imdad Khan, his brother Imrat, and many talented musicians in younger generations. Khan eschews cross-cultural collaborations to retain a style deeply rooted in tradition, and he's boundlessly inventive within the austere North Indian style.

This has to be one of the most delayed debut albums in singer-songwriter history. Pegi Young wrote some of the original songs here more than thirty years ago, longbefore she married Neil Young. But one of the unexpected pleasures ofPegi Young (along with the sound of Neil playing electric sitar in "LoveLike Water") is hearing Pegi revisit questions and impressions from heryouth -- "Key to Love," "White Line in the Sun" -- in a voice etched withthe deep-cut grain of adult experience. Pegi's recent songs, such as"Fake" and "Sometimes," are as simple and direct in their promises andworries as her husband's, and producer Elliot Mazer sets them in apedal-steel sparkle that inevitably echoes Neil's Harvest.