A Song Afloat

Cluburb: Hi Rabbi, how have you been?
Rabbi Shergill: I have been good, thanks.

C: You have been performing for the past two days in Delhi, including the Auto Expo. Had a good time?
RS: Yes, I did. I always enjoy performing live.

C: We can tell by the way you perform. You start at a low pitch and then you slowly take us somewhere very high by the end. Do you practice it like that?
RS: No, I save myself for the concerts. I’m moderate in my practice sessions. When it comes to performing live, that’s when I let myself loose. This happens only from the interaction of the audience. In their absence, jam sessions are dull. It is more difficult to hit the lower notes than the higher ones. The anatomy of the composition is complete only when both happen, that is when I get those vibes from the listeners. Their presence is a crucial ingredient. It assures that I said what I had to.

C: Your songs like Bilqis, Heer and Bulla have derived from earlier poetry and yet bear your hallmark expression just like your original ones. How does that happen?
RS: It had to be this way with me. For me, the poetry, the singing and the instrument are inseparable. I perform with all three together. One less is not me. In fact, I’m not good at any of these taken one at a time. I write what I feel, sing what I write and play for my own singing. That’s my trace to the human heart.

The lyrics, for example Majrooh Sultanpuri’s expression ‘Jinhe naaz hai’ from Pyasa was an epic moment in my consciousness, it fit with my feeling for the song. They are ideas that have remained inside me. They’ve become a part of me. So, when I say it, they become my voice and complete my song.

C: Your poetry has a lot of proper nouns. Names, data, places. We still find it wonderfully easy to relate. Why do you use them?
RS: I’ve grown up in the 80s. Most of the poetry then left me cold, untouched. There were lines that had to talk about preconditioned situations, nothing knocked you. I don’t like buildings, I want to talk about the human cause. I’m curious about bypassing the regular way of talking about the times. Its a function of reacting to the environment in my own way. I’m not Tom Petty, but I’m only learning.

C: You sing in a unique style which is close to ballads. And sometimes it is rock. What would you call it?
RS: A very close and revered acquaintance has called me an ‘urban balladeer’, and I think I’d like to keep it that way. Its not my job to classify myself. In fact, I do miss the need of criticism in general. We need some serious music journalism here. I travel abroad and I see crazy developments there. There’s criticism, reactions, two-way friction. This is helping something new getting shaped. Here, an artist has to develop in isolation. I’ve been trying to create to keep abreast of the criticism in the world. I try to create artificial friction, pose questions to myself and something appears. If my critic here is dormant, then I need a forum for him. The need for someone who knew, to speak on the current scene is immense.

C: What touches you more to make music: stories you witness on your travels or the ones you get to hear in the news?
RS: It's not one thing - it’s experience from all things. From meeting people, walking the roads, surfing the internet. I just scramble a song from life. It’s about being sensitive, being curious, feeling strongly. It’s about seeing the song floating in the air and catching it from there.

C: We hear you write in Punjabi because its your pride. What is it about the language that’s so appealing to everyone?
RS: Punjabis are confident people, they’re people with a sense of self. And we’re good looking as well. We have courage, fortitude and perseverance. We’ve lived through unfair nature as well as military inundations. Marathas have been superior to us in historical past. But, we’re the heavy-bottomed jokers that spring back harder than they’ve been hit. We know how to live with the nature and we know how to laugh. We’re a certain way. We’re boisterous and we’ve our own cultural space. This attitude shows in our music and in our language. It appeals.

I’ve listened to a couple of new generation singer-songwriters who are too good and exemplify this. Like Satinder Sartaj, or Harpreet Gill – who’s a guitarist too.

C: Which of your contemporaries do you listen to or admire.
RS: Oh, there are many. Especially Sonu Nigam. I’ve been a fan of Mark Knopfler and Led Zeppelin. These days, I admire John Meyer, Norah Jones, Sting, Bruce Springsteen, Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys. I’ve been listening to Mehdi Hassan, Salamat Khan, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Sa’ab. 60s was definitely our golden time in terms of music.

C: We hear you talk about your teacher’s views. But, we don’t know about him. We’re curious.
RS: Well, his name is Ananth Vaidyanathan. He’s based out of Chennai, but I’d met him in Bombay. He’s my guru, my teacher. I call him or meet him whenever possible to take feedback on my work and ask him to correct me or guide me.

C: Thanks Rabbi, it was very nice talking to you. We’re waiting to see you in the evening.
RS: Same here, see you!


Catch Rabbi Shergill performing live at Hard Rock Cafe, tonight at 9:00 pm.
For more information, click here or here.