Perhaps it is corny and overstated, but the visual character of music assists in one’s survival in ways beyond comprehension. When navigating and avoiding homelessness in Delhi, I had stumbled onto the infinite magical potential of Desi hip-hop. When stuck in my hometown that everybody deserts and flocks to in cyclical patterns, I had leaned a little too much on Indian classical and streamed Bhimsen Joshi into oblivion. So when I moved to Mumbai, in an attempt to resurrect whatever life had been plunged deep into me in a burial ritual that happens every once in a while — I needed to fall back on the imagined nature of a life well-lived, even though untrue. It was necessary, of course, to make my stay in a house with 12 women and 5 rooms in a non-descript part of Navi Mumbai, sound exciting, push a proximity to something far from the banal and close to something that has more of a narrative quality — one must Fallen Angels the lights of Paharganj to feel alright about imminent claustrophobia, one must Life in a Metro dispassionate walks in Mumbai crowds to conjure something that will let you believe that all this living is worth it.
Madboy Mink’s 2018 EP Persons.Elastic.Superior.Fantastic (hence abbreviated as PESF) creates an intentionally astral atmosphere for itself. The EP cover is reminiscent of a CS Lewis or an early Asimov book jacket, and the production is synthy, galactic, mysterious. Tracks like Laika and Comets are obvious notes to that. The EP opens with Plastic Elastic, with a feature from late jazz pianist extraordinaire Karan Joseph. Here is the thing, the lyrics, in spite of the production, would not have worked if not for Saba Azad’s vocal delivery (or, the Mink in this duo). Sure, it’s psychedelic, funky, almost intoxicating — but the final layer of polish is added by Azad’s voice which has to itself a smoothness that is almost seductive and elusive. Overtime, Azad has established her eccentricism in the music space — and while there have been accusations leveled at her for her esoteric habits in music performance being over-the-top or out of place, or sometimes even manufactured, if one traces back her discography, and records like these — one can situate her into the map of her own artistry and how well she carries it out, vocally. Azad is an actor and a musician, and she utilizes those capabilities to her best — as evidenced by the dramatic flair that she executes into the work that she creates. This is exemplified right on as she croons “Plastic Elastic is my lonely, my only love/ I hear you call me and whisper my name in your mouth/ Stranger than fiction/And colder than winter my love”, a few minutes into the first track.
Laika, the second track on the EP is groovy, and with references to the first dog to be sent to outer space in its title and a sentiment of kinship with it. The retro-future inspiration behind the whole project solidifies really well in this track — the percussion and the bass work in its favor, perhaps a testament to what Azad mentions in an interview with The Asian Age, “When we were making this EP, both of us were really interested in retro-futurism which is basically our preoccupation with the future- the fictionality of the what we thought the future would be like in the past”.
The third track, Comets, swings in pendulum fashion between feelings of being hunted and locating oneself in safety — perhaps in line with a lot of the electro swing elements the record is rooted in. Listening to a Madboy Mink project feels fun because of the way it is drawn out in a way that you can dance to it. I have spent hours walking through my mediocre suburban existence and being crushed in Panvel-bound locals and found my head bobbing to the tracks. The prioritization of the disco, which Imaad Shah gives the nomenclature of the “cosmic disco”, as he states, “We wanted to make music that can be heard at home too, which is introspective and also funky” — points at how the track is arranged with intentionality. The lyrics are political, and quite topical with respect to contemporary currents, even after a good 6 years of the record’s release, as Azad sings, on Minimum, the last track — “Fascist in the Fashion Age/Aren’t we beautiful?/Living on minimum wage/In the time of Mein Fuhrer”.
What is great about Imaad Shah’s production on this EP is one can see that the project is the product of educated endeavors — of someone who engages with influences and takes lessons from them. It almost sounds like a synthesis of an Asha Puthli record(special focus on Space Talk) and an LCD Soundsystem number from 2010 in places. The duo are evolving, and while a 6 year old project does appear naïve at some places, and a little too derivative at some others, it also shows incredible promise — there can never be too many atmospheric / thematic records and the addition of this to the roster is a positive. The duo have released a new single, Faramosh, which shows the progress in their musicality, their gradually maturing sonic journey, and new creative directions. However, I would like to hold on to this record for a little longer — let the imaginary lights it has cast its shadow on my face as I envisage myself in rooms that are not the ones I presently stand in, watch people perform their daily dance and blur out themselves into the back of my head till all they are is a movie slowed down, stretched out thin, so that I can get them better — and is that not what music is meant to be, longevity, of a moment in time, into our respective forevers.
