Instant karma

Ten years from now, they will still be known as the musicians from Peshawar who sang in English: an identity they will find very hard to shrug off. When Sajid and Zeeshan first came onto the Pakistani music scene, the idea of desi musicians singing in a foreign language was relatively unheard of. Now, however, there are quite a few making rounds on the tube and elsewhere. Theirs is also the only two-member musical band in this country that does not require a traditional four-member setup for performances.

With Sajid Ghafoor on the vocals, harmonica and on the rhythm, lead and occasionally bass guitar, and Zeeshan Parwez on the synthesiser, mouth-organ, keyboards, arrangements and production, you have the eponymously-named band, Sajid and Zeeshan.

One thing that becomes evident while interacting with them is that at first, Zeeshan seems to be the more outgoing of the two: he is the first one to step forward and talk and will go to great lengths to make people around him feel at ease. On the other hand, Sajid is relatively quieter, observant and watchful without being intrusive. He opens up gradually, revealing a sense of humour that becomes downright silly and has a great talent for imitation. In him you will see the wisdom of one who has seen much and is at peace with himself.

Between them, Zeeshan may appear to be the one who is in-charge: he constantly attends to phone calls, plans their next move and schedules their media appearances and interviews. But Sajid constantly asserts his authority, albeit quietly. There is no power struggle in this duo, their differences and similarities are well-complemented.

Currently, Sajid and Zeeshan have hit the studio and are recording their second album. When asked about what the sound on the next album will be like, they say "each album doesn't follow a pre-determined theme or pattern and therefore nothing can be said". They have, however, recorded a much-anticipated Pushto track, the single Lambay.

Lambay (literal meaning: flames) is a song written and composed by Sajid and is the band�s first attempt at releasing a song in a language other than English. There are predominant guitars in the musical composition of the song and according to Sajid, he sees them experimenting with the traditional Pushto style of music.

More precisely, the word lambay is used in contexts where the intensity of a singular emotion consumes the person experiencing it, thereby enveloping him/her in its flames. The song is about experiencing such an emotion. It has already been recorded and will be released as a single and will not be a part of the upcoming Sajid and Zeeshan album. The band members are currently working on a concept for its video.

About the roots of his musical skills, Sajid, whose primary profession is that of a lecturer of law at the Peshawar University, recollects that his earliest memories of listening to music were those of Boney M and Abba on his dad's stereo. He picked up his first guitar in 1989. "My mother presented me with a Russian acoustic guitar which she got from somewhere in Peshawar. The action was so high I could hardly hold the strings. So I would just strum the guitar and make up crappy songs”, he says. “I never really learnt how to play the guitar from anyone. Nobody taught me how to write songs or compose them either; it was all through trial and error. One thing which helped my musical expression was the fact that I was living in Peshawar. Here, one doesn’t have much of a social life. That left me with more time to think, feel and bring it all back into music”.

Zeeshan, on the other hand, was living in Karachi around the time he started honing his skills on the keyboard. “I was inspired by my brother, Salman, who was into keyboards and made a song in 1988 which ended up getting pretty good airplay on PTV”, he says. When his father passed away, Zeeshan and his family had to relocate to Peshawar. “After his death, I drifted away from music-making, drawing and illustrations. I was in Peshawar doing nothing”, he says.

Then, Sarmad, Sajid’s younger brother and founding-member of the band Rung, encouraged Zeeshan to polish his music skills once again. Zeeshan first met Sajid sometime in 1998 and recollects, “At that time, Sajid and Sarmad had their own band called Still, and they needed a keyboard player for one of their concerts. Sajid had lots of songs and he showed them to me. He is an excellent songwriter and composer and I was good with arrangements, so we decided to get together and do something that might actually turn out to be worthwhile. “It would be another five years before the two would decide to do music together, in 2003.

“We never made any commitment initially”, remembers Sajid, talking about the time they released their first single, King of Self on the airwaves, “but people started appreciating the song and we liked it and thought that we should have regular dozes of it every now and then”.

Critics argue that there is no mass audience for English music in Pakistan: something that is central to their music. So what kind of listeners are they hoping to attract? “Hopefully everyone”, says Zeeshan. “We have a niche market but we also get a lot of emails from hard core Urdu music listeners as well who appreciate our work. We would like to attract everyone but even if we get a small portion of the market, we would be happy”.

Peshawar is not a place known for being very music savvy, and the idea of a band coming from there was shocking for many music enthusiasts at first. So are there any more Sajid and Zeeshan types out there? “One thing is for sure: there is amazing talent I Peshawar. It just needs proper motivation”, says Zeeshan.

“We don’t want another Sajid and Zeeshan”, replies Sajid. “We want someone who can do this better than us; that’s the only way our music can grow. You have to understand that Pakistan is a place where music is still very young. You also have to look at the political system and the way it works in different provinces.

“We do have talent but we don’t have the tools to bring this talent into the limelight. There could be lots of people out there who are way better than all the bands in Pakistan, but then one can never be sure because they have not been able to surface”.

The band is known as much for their music videos as they are for their music. Their first video, King of Self, was the first to talk about the pitfalls an artiste experiences when committing his/her art to a sponsor and cannot get out of it. The video of My Happiness saw the band jamming together. Although it did not match the success of its predecessor, it is still remembered for its simple yet classy rendition of two men jamming together.

Sajid and Zeeshan also have to their credit the Freestyle Dive music video which was the first fully-animated video of its kind to be launched in Pakistan. It bagged several awards and earned Zeeshan the title of a “revolutionary director”. The last video that they released was for the song Have to let go sometime. The fact that they chose to incorporate German subtitles in it is somewhat amusing. However, the video itself is rather grainy and does not complement the richness of the song.

Zeeshan, who is also a music video director, has done all their videos. When asked whether a Sajid and Zeeshan video would be directed by another, he says, “Probably not”.

What is undeniable is that the duo’s greatest asset – unique music and catchy lyrics – may prove to be their greatest undoing. Acoustic and electronic guitar music with electronic effects thrown in, although not a novel concept elsewhere hasn’t been experimented in Pakistan before. That very element is precisely what puts off music purists, who believe in pure and unadulterated instrumental music.

But then, pioneers (the duo were called thus by Alamgir) in any field have to face obstacles before being considered “revolutionary”. Whether Sajid and Zeeshan can truly be considered revolutionary is what their second album will show – hopefully an increased level of growth and maturity.

First Published:
Images
March 4, 2007