The political tectonic plates were re-aligning, the economic indicators were jittery, but the cultural kaleidoscope also shifted a bit last night with the unveiling of Susheela Raman’s new material from her yet untitled new album, which on this evidence and some unfinished masters floating around could be one of the albums of the year. Names for the album being talked of include Vel, the Tamil for spear, Tamil Voodoo and Incantation (don’t do that one, guys, people will expect Andean pan-pipers, one of the few global influences you won’t be getting here).
Raman, born in London from Tamil parents, is almost a household name in France, but isn’t as well known here as she should be. That’s partly because her consistently innovative records have tended to confuse her followers. Her first album Salt Rain from 2000, which looks more and more like a classic in retrospect, was tinged with jazziness, with some highly memorable tunes like “Ganapati” (watch below on YouTube) and “Maya”, with an amusing take on The Jungle Book’s “Trust in Me”. It won her a fervent following, a BBC World Music Award and the love of the world music crowd.
Her next albums have veered from takes on Ethiopian pop in “Love Trap” to Dylanesque lyrics in English culminating in an adventurous album, 33 1/3, of cover versions including “Like a Rolling Stone“ and a wonderfully re-imagined version of Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child”, which made for a delirious encore in this concert. The world music contingent was, in general, frankly baffled (other critics, like theartsdesk’s Howard Male, liked this album the best).
As one Indian journalist commented, “When you hear Carnatic with a bluesy treatment or a Lou Reed classic sounding like it originated from Chennai or the Mississippi Delta, you’re in Susheela Country.” In India too, though, there seems to be a divided response to Susheela – from ecstatic approval from some who see her as the avatar of a new cultural re-arrangement to others who are outraged by both her lax use of spiritual texts, in their opinion, or a kind of jealousy that an outsider is leading the way into the modern world.
The new album's main references are based on ancient Tamil religions and culture, marginalised and downplayed by the mainstream culture in India and an intense sort of rough post-punk sound with added Indian violin, played with passionate verve by Kumar Raghunathan and masterful percussion by long-time collaborator, tabla guru Arif Durvesh.
The post-punk elements were partly provided by the presence of Johnny Turnbull on bass, who used to be in the band 23 Skidoo with Sam Mills, Susheela’s partner, producer and general co-creator of the new sounds being unleashed this evening. (Sam Mills, who I’ve known for a long time, was also responsible for one of the jewels in Real World records' catalogue – the sublime Real Sugar with Paban Das Baul.)
There were several singalong in-your-face uptempo pieces including “Daga Daga”, which according to Susheela’s introduction, was the sound of cosmic union between Shakti and Shiva sung in the persona of a female saint, and “Raise Up”, both of which should have festival audiences entranced this summer, and demanded a bigger audience than the couple of hundred fans present here, but also more lyrical tunes like “Orfea”, a version of the Orpheus myth, and “Paal” which shifted gear from downtempo atmospherics to Wagnerian semi-thrash.
If the set slightly ran out of energy mid-way and there were occasional sound problems, including unresolved acoustic arguments between the bass and tablas, this must be Susheela’s strongest band yet (and with backing vocals from Kartik Raghunathan producing a deliciously poised counterpoint to Susheela’s singing).
With a few sound gremlins, the band didn’t totally gel as they no doubt will – this was, apparently their second gig in this incarnation. The first was Milton Keynes, the third will be the Sydney Opera House. The potential, though, is immense. At this juncture there is a slight sense that Susheela was trying too hard at times to prove a point – which she doesn’t need to do. Her supple voice combines the soul of a Joan Armatrading and the wildness of a Polly Harvey, even at times the spiritual plugged-in power of an Abida Parveen and she will no doubt relax with the audience and have more fun as the tour progresses.
With the likes of fellow Indo-Brit pioneers like Talvin Singh and Nitin Sawhney there is a feeling of artistic treading water. With Susheela, though, she moves forward with the force of one of her beloved and fearsome South Indian goddesses, moving implacably into uncharted territory.
Watch the video of "Ganapati" on YouTube
Her next albums have veered from takes on Ethiopian pop in “Love Trap” to Dylanesque lyrics in English culminating in an adventurous album, 33 1/3, of cover versions including “Like a Rolling Stone“ and a wonderfully re-imagined version of Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child”, which made for a delirious encore in this concert. The world music contingent was, in general, frankly baffled (other critics, like theartsdesk’s Howard Male, liked this album the best).
As one Indian journalist commented, “When you hear Carnatic with a bluesy treatment or a Lou Reed classic sounding like it originated from Chennai or the Mississippi Delta, you’re in Susheela Country.” In India too, though, there seems to be a divided response to Susheela – from ecstatic approval from some who see her as the avatar of a new cultural re-arrangement to others who are outraged by both her lax use of spiritual texts, in their opinion, or a kind of jealousy that an outsider is leading the way into the modern world.
The new album's main references are based on ancient Tamil religions and culture, marginalised and downplayed by the mainstream culture in India and an intense sort of rough post-punk sound with added Indian violin, played with passionate verve by Kumar Raghunathan and masterful percussion by long-time collaborator, tabla guru Arif Durvesh.
The post-punk elements were partly provided by the presence of Johnny Turnbull on bass, who used to be in the band 23 Skidoo with Sam Mills, Susheela’s partner, producer and general co-creator of the new sounds being unleashed this evening. (Sam Mills, who I’ve known for a long time, was also responsible for one of the jewels in Real World records' catalogue – the sublime Real Sugar with Paban Das Baul.)
There were several singalong in-your-face uptempo pieces including “Daga Daga”, which according to Susheela’s introduction, was the sound of cosmic union between Shakti and Shiva sung in the persona of a female saint, and “Raise Up”, both of which should have festival audiences entranced this summer, and demanded a bigger audience than the couple of hundred fans present here, but also more lyrical tunes like “Orfea”, a version of the Orpheus myth, and “Paal” which shifted gear from downtempo atmospherics to Wagnerian semi-thrash.
If the set slightly ran out of energy mid-way and there were occasional sound problems, including unresolved acoustic arguments between the bass and tablas, this must be Susheela’s strongest band yet (and with backing vocals from Kartik Raghunathan producing a deliciously poised counterpoint to Susheela’s singing).
With a few sound gremlins, the band didn’t totally gel as they no doubt will – this was, apparently their second gig in this incarnation. The first was Milton Keynes, the third will be the Sydney Opera House. The potential, though, is immense. At this juncture there is a slight sense that Susheela was trying too hard at times to prove a point – which she doesn’t need to do. Her supple voice combines the soul of a Joan Armatrading and the wildness of a Polly Harvey, even at times the spiritual plugged-in power of an Abida Parveen and she will no doubt relax with the audience and have more fun as the tour progresses.
With the likes of fellow Indo-Brit pioneers like Talvin Singh and Nitin Sawhney there is a feeling of artistic treading water. With Susheela, though, she moves forward with the force of one of her beloved and fearsome South Indian goddesses, moving implacably into uncharted territory.
Watch the video of "Ganapati" on YouTube
