FALAM - Connection

After a gap of good four years, Fakhr is back with "Falam Connection". This is the fifth album of the singer and it marks a change in Fakhr's priorities both in music and in life. For once Fakhr has decided to get serious in life and experiment more with music. Hence the name Falam, which Fakhr would like to be known as in future, since he feels that his original name Fakhr-e-Alam is too long. As for the "Connection" part of the name, according to the singer, "through this album, listeners will notice a different artist and a different pop culture," so this album marks a tie-up between Fakhr of the past and the future.

For those who expect "Falam Connection" to be another bhangra-rap album in order, can heave a sigh of relief since Fakhr has tried to divert from what many think is his forte - rap. But then it's not a complete metamorphosis since it has that touch of vibrant and fun-loving Fakhr we have known for almost a decade now. So wait till Fakhr undertakes a complete transformation and gets into a serious mode. For now, here is Fakhr or Falam for you!

The 13 songs collection aims to target the youth market and is a mix of fast, peppy, with slow, melancholic and meaningful numbers. Compositions have been done by Fakhr himself, Nadeem Jafri and Akhtar Qayyum while lyrics have been penned down by Nadeem Asad, Akhtar Qayyum, Sabir Zafar, Nadeem Jafri and Fakhr again.

Qawwali dominates majority of the album as a result of which we get "Husn Waalon", "De De Dil" and "Direct Connection". All three are sprightly songs with the usual fun and hungama that Fakhr is known for. "Husn Wallo", however, stands out for its vibrant and catchy beats. It can make a good listening in car and also in mayun and mehndi ceremonies where bhangra pao mood prevails. Starting with two chirpy numbers, "Dharti Ki Kasam" sets the tone for a serious mood. One is already familiar with this number since Fakhr has played it off and on in concerts. However, this patriotic number is still a far cry from a "Dil Dil Pakistan" or a "Jazba-e-Junoon". "Khuda Ki Kasam" is a soft, melodious piece but sounds like a western song. "Shikway Gillay" is an attempt at soft romantic music. Despite good music, lyrics leave a lot to be desired here. Though our singers are doing a good job in music, lyrics is one area which demands their attention as Pakistani music has always been known for it's original and meaningful lyrics. "Talaash" addresses the issue of identity crises that our youth is facing. It's a slow number and sometimes sounds like a jingle. However, lyrics are too simple and since the song is supposed to convey a consequential message, one craves for more sententious lyrics.

Fakhr cannot stay serious for long and in a lighter vein demands a Green Card Waali to ensure a luxurious life. "Ishq" is a peppy number and if given in the hands of a talented video director, it can make an interesting watching. "Padosan" has Fakhr back in his usual spirits. He mouths the lines so fast that one has to listen to it three times before one could have an idea as to why this fussy neighbour has been the center of Fakhr's world and song. "Dil Ka Mamla" has got musical notes loud enough to make it difficult to hear the singer.

It's time to get serious again and Fakhr exerts the change in mood with "Fana". Out of all the serious songs in the album, "Fana" stands out thanks to it's good music and depth that lyrics carry. This song, if publicized well, can actually occupy a good position on musical charts. "Zindagi" is worth pressing that Fast Forward button on. The album closes on a non-serious note with "Direct Connection" which is actually a wish-list that the singer extends to God. This Qawwali number is humorous and though, it does remind one of Adnan Sami's "Lift Karade", is a good one in it's own respect.

At the end of the day "Falam Collection" is an interesting experience and apart from a few songs, it does make an enjoyable listening. However, one still feels that Fakhr should stick to his usual rap mood since his peppy numbers outdo the serious ones. This is not to say that Fakhr should give up experimentation as it's important for the growth of an artist. Lets hope Fakhr's fifth attempt breathes a fresh lease of life in the local music scene before Hindi and western pop music sweeps it under the carpet.

KARAVAN - Gardish

After their startling record "Safar" (2000), Karavan returns with a bolder-sounding, more experimental record - "Gardish" (2002). It has the likeable, dreamy, rocky feel that marked much of their previous album. The album easily gives you an idea about the fact that Karavan has unquestionably grown over the last two years - musically and as a force that sounds so idyllic together.

Angst-ridden singer Tanseer Daar suitably emotes over 12 songs full of drums, percussion, tabla and strings. While implausible guitarist Assad Ahmed has worked the strings with great perfection. He proves once again why he's really the group's secret weapon on such standouts as "Beqarar", "Saadgi", "Aagay Hi Aagay" and "Dil Ki Pyas".

Each band member has played his piece to perfection with almost no boo-boo or slip-ups! Their simple melodic songs, with an alluring sound make us sway to the group's sweeping, soul-baring music for as long as the record plays and long after.

The band seems to be enjoying substantial airplay with "Aagay Hi Aagay", the first single of the record with sensational guitar work and energetic keyboards. The song is an upbeat, bouncy kind of track that has become the part of the favorite play-list of many ardent listeners. The spinning video directed by Babar Sheikh is stimulating and enlivening too.

The title track "Gardish" is that one genre-bashing tune that everybody will be listening to relentlessly. This song is by far the best the band has to offer on this record. Astounding drum act by Alan Smith on this track happens to make him my second favorite drummer of all times. The most favorite drummer being Gumby! The song just pumps you up to the greatest levels. "Gardish" is the perfect excuse for your listening pleasure. It's truly a musical masterpiece taking us on a tour-de-force for all those who want a bit more than just the usual. Gardish is also a challenge that exhorts the band to write those songs that glue in your skull long after you've requested them to be off and hit the road. My verdict is that the song will surely be avoiding the credibility pitfalls, becoming the sing-along breakout hit.

"Intezaar" is one of those instant hits with the more sensitive listeners with lyrics that are really easy to swallow. The title I believe is more than enough and should not require me to go explaining the concept behind the song. "Man Kahe Aaja" follows running on the same lines lyrically and has a threatening atmosphere to it. "Beqarar" (Safar 2000) is one of the three live songs that they have included in the record recorded live at two different venues. The other two songs are "Iraada" (a song about hope) and "Jhoom Zara Jhoom". These songs will get anybody's mind go numb. They all sound so decent and virtuous together that it's almost unbelievable. And it's moments like these that I look forward to on albums. Moments that are so amazingly beautiful. Moments that takes us on surreal roller coaster rides. It is at these instances that I pray that please let them stick together with each other without losing the creativity that they pounce with. In fact I must say that this is one of the best lined up band on the scene right now. Everybody gels up so well and ultimately sounding so tight all through the album.

"Shoure" mixes the band's trademark styles of finely honed razor-sharp riffs and towering melodies. Tanseer's serious, dramatic delivery on "Saadgi" is worth mentioning as the vocals are pretty well controlled. Assad's guitar and percussion slowly builds but the sturdy accompaniment never becomes showy giving the track a philosophical tone.

There is no sense of monotony, likeness or uniformity as each song floods vibrantly into the next. Listening to the album is an expedition in itself, one that is just as hallucinogenic as a live show. This record is bound to climb up charts. Their lyrics are magnetic, performances are rocking and the production quality is fabulous too.

This record will surely get Karavan the commercial success that they deserve. The band had done well courtesy "Safar" (2000) that did create ripples. This record will create waves. And that too with a lot more style. There are listeners who were of the opinion that the band sounded a lot better with Najam Shiraz on the vocals. Tanseer Daar proves them wrong showing his knack for singing amazingly well throughout the album.

By the end of the year we will have a few more albums up on the shelves. We'll have Entity Paradigm, Noori and Aaroh out with their debut efforts. We are already listening to Fuzon, Hadiqa and Haroon's latest offerings. With all the eminent bands scheduled to release their promising albums at the beginning of the year, the crusade for the number one album is going to really hot up. It also means a lot of gigs happening all over the city really lightening up Karachi. It's surely a rockin' year and weather "Gardish" will win the race or not only time can tell. But for the point in time go buy a copy for yourself as you would certainly not want to miss this one out.

FUZON - Saagar

Some time ago I came across a person who after hearing Fuzon's debut track "Ankhon Ke Saagar" on Satellite TV was so desperate to get an audio copy of it that she copied it off television. And then she made more copies of the song to fill a D-90 cassette and played the song over and over again. Ninety minutes of the same song played relentlessly. I thought her a little nuts to go so overboard and such junoonis often put one off the music they so fanatically praise (except when one is the fanatic: have you heard the new Andrew W K record? Awesome.). Yet after listening to "Ankhon Ke Saagar", I found its quality undeniable. The fanatic had said the music was timeless and the ache in the voice of the singer was heart-rending. She claimed that for listeners weaned on less emotive voices like Hadiqa's and Junaid Jamshed's, the warmth and expressiveness of Shafqat's voice will be a revelation. She was right.

All that thereafter remained to be seen was could the Fuzon boys manage to maintain this level of excellence over a full album.

One need not have worried; "Saagar", Fuzon's debut album is excellent. It is compositionally catchy, vocally soulful and musically fresh. Overall, it is a work of gifted musicians at the top of their game. Shallum Xavier (guitars) and Immu (keyboards) provide the sterling music and Shafqat Amanat Ali, scion (7th generation) of the renowned "Patyala Gharana" (Amanat Ali family), provides the divine voice.

The scheme for the music on the album is clear: As the band's name suggests this album deals with the fusion of various diverse musical elements. The band itself attempted to describe its constituents as 'Western U2 style pop with Eastern classical vocals.'

Shallum's guitars with loads of delay effects provide the U2 element in the mix, but Immu's keyboards actually take the sound in another direction. The soundscapes Fuzon creates are in fact different from the ones constructed by Eno/Lanois/Flood with Edge for U2 with the addition of the keyboards. Locally, the Mekaal Hassan Band (MHB) have already done what Fuzon attempt here, to use Eastern classical vocal in a Western music context, but Fuzon better them by keeping their creations accessible. Fuzon's remarkable album is not only fresh but is also accessible; the MHB album unfortunately has been under works for ages and his songs have never been as accessible. Mekaal may say that commercialism is a base trait and so he does not aspire to it (wonder what about his appearance on the Pepsi battle of the Bands, then?) but that is another debate. One thing is for certain: fusion music is rarely as accessible or fun as on "Saagar".

Track after track is spectacular and is loaded with fresh musical ideas: "Tere Bina" starts with breezy sounding guitars and one expects it to be a little pop confection. But then Shafqat's soulful singing comes in to give it depth. Halfway into the song, it goes into chant-along choruses and then moves into full blooded gospel. A resounding song. "Madhbanti" starts with tinkling pianos and then gets really heavy with heavy metal guitars, throbbing bass and high octane vocals. The joy in "Deewane" is infectious. "Malhaar" is explosive and shows off the musical chops of the musicians. "Madhbanti" shows off the beauty in Shafqat's voice. It is a high point of the album (on par with "Ankhon ke Saagar") as it is sparely orchestrated and lets the music breathe a lot more than other songs. It is all the more affective and moving as a consequence of this.

Some of the numbers on the album however do not work all that well. Curiously, it is the more commercial numbers that rankle and not the more experimental ones. "Ankhian", a Punjabi number (by the numbers) is not convincing enough. It, however, obviously works for the band as it, according to Shafqat, is going to be the next single with a video being done by Jami. The choice is understandable as the song is active and powerful. Its energy recommends it but next to the other more soulful and stately numbers on the album it pales by comparison.

"Pyar Na Raha" is not ambient, but rock/pop and detrimentally strays away from the band's template. For that reason it is possibly the weakest track on offer. "Doorian" shows the limits of Shafqat's vocals. The vocals sound a little forced all throughout and one keeps waiting for Shafqat to shift to a lower register.

All the songs, even the lesser ones, show that this is a band that knows their music. Shallum has played with the cream of Pakistani music (lately with Najam Shiraz) and along with Immu on keyboards is considered one of the premier musicians in the country. Shafqat came into Fuzon almost by accident as he explained recently. Apparently he was in Karachi working on a solo album: while trying to work in a pop direction, he found that he himself was not satisfied with the results. Immu, in whose studio he was recording, also seemed to agree with him. Once the two got talking, they found common ground and Immu told Shafqat of the duo he was thinking of forming with Shallum. Lo and behold, Shafqat was roped into Fuzon and the first song they wrote was "Ankhon ke Saagar". The rest is history. The song was a massive hit and thereafter things quickly fell into place. Within a year of their formation the album was ready.

The synergy that arises out of these like-minded advanced musicians clearly shows up in the music. However, to their credit, Fuzon do not limit their songs to just advanced self-indulgent instrumental interaction and key and time signature changes a la the Mekaal Hassan Band. Shallum and Immu's solo spots are restrained and function to serve the song. To their credit, they also manage to stop short of being cynically calculated and commercial. Writing accessible songs seems to have been a consideration for Fuzon and they quite achieve their aim with integrity intact.

While fusion generally tends to be inaccessible, there is a huge commercial cross-over appeal to Fuzon's music. Even their take on ragas while informed makes them accessible to a whole new generation weaned on pop-music. "Khamaj" is based around Raag Khamaj, "Malhaar" is in Malhaar, etc. All of this is there for the connosieurs to enjoy. But one can still move along to these songs without any knowledge of desi classical music and enjoy the rhythm and the beat.

The production on the album as expected is spectacular. It is crisp, clean and dynamically spacious. Immu and Shallum have mastered the art of studio and Immu in particular deserves credit for it as the album was recorded at his studio. Furthermore, it appears that most of the songs were recorded live and that gives quite a coherent and organic sound to the album. The only thing that bothered me on the production end was that the drums sounded a tad too synthetic.

The one significant flaw in the album lies in the lyrics. As with most Pakistani albums, the lyrics are commonplace. It is only through reiteration and passionate singing by Shafqat that these lyrics rise past passable. The conviction, fire and passion in the singing are the songs' saving grace, sort of the way Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan used to be able to breathe life into deadweight words. Consider the words to Fuzon's "Nadania": 'Na kar nadaniyaan/ hum pe na kar tu mehrbaniyaan/ In main kuch dum nahin/ hum ne suni hain yeh kahaniyaan.'

After such amateurish nursery rhyming, I was waiting for a 'janiyaan' and 'haiwaaniyan' in there too. Thankfully they did not arrive. They did however sing of 'Raaste pyaar ke' and rhymed it with 'Chalna hai sub kuch haar ke.' After album upon album of kid rhymes one wonders when our singers will learn?

Shafqat seems cultured enough to know of Ghalib and other writers of note. "Nadania" is a whole long way down from that and should not have found its way lyrically onto the album. The titles of the songs alone indicate their by and large lyrically uninspired nature. "Ankhon ke Saagar", "Tere Bina", "Doorian", "Pyar Na Raha", "Deewane", Nadania", "Ankhian", "Baatain", etc. There has to be more to women and music than ankhein (three times) and zulfain. I know there is; most Pakistani artists [sic] don't seem to. On this count, Fuzon too is limited.

John Mall helped out on "Pyar Na Raha". The song as with most of his work is novel but still retains an awkward edge. One appreciates that he is trying to say something new: that the love and lovers one finds these days are far removed from the legendary ones of the past. But listen to the song and one finds the lyrical expression awkward, sort of the way another one of his songs "Achay Dost" on Hadiqa's "Rung" was fresh, but a bit awkward sounding in Urdu. By being a little more selective with their lyrics, Fuzon can be truly great. As things stand they get a lot closer to greatness than most.

Having said that one must also note that if they are really great, it certainly does not show from the packaging of the album. Admittedly, high flowing words are used by Ali Tim on the album sleeve to pat them on the back, but often the text lapses with errors into self-parody. Consider the text: Shafqat is referred to as '...a studio artist of first water' (order?); It is said that Shafqat's 'commitment to pop is classical-pop at its dreamiest' and he 'tempts the aural senses to linger.' Immu is 'a charismatic keyboard exponent' whose 'immaculate and unparalleled keyboard manouevres... impart euphoric essence to this 24 karat album.' Ali Tim describes the album as a 'dissaying [sic] array of sound,' (dizzying?) of 'eleven richly melodic tracks (which) envelope diverse stories.' I have liked most of Ali Tim's work in the past, but he is clearly not on the ball here. Moreover, if the band expect to go international, as clearly mentioned by Shafqat recently, the presentation of the album needs to be improved. Karavan have set the high-mark for presentation with a lavish booklet; Fuzon needed to match the same.

The lack of a lyrics sheet is also a bother. I asked Shafqat about it and he explained that people had started pirating their songs so much that they had to rush production and ended up not waiting for a proper booklet to be put together. This is hardly a convincing enough reason as the band took a year to write the songs. It is only that value for money is not given to the punter purchasing the album on this account. Speaking of value for money, it is also unfortunate that the band choose to place another not-too-different version of "Ankhon Ke Saagar" (guitar mix) on the album. While the said song may be the centerpiece of the album, the song is used for the second time as nothing more than a filler.

These few reservations notwithstanding, this album is unreservedly recommended. Do not be put off by the hype and mad fans. This album has great crossover appeal and may well make Fuzon international. For now, consider them the best upcoming band around and listen in.

JUNOON - Deewar

People with walls, shouldn't throw bricks
"Dewaar." Certainly, it is not Junoon's finest album (that would either be "Inquilaab" or "Parvaaz"). Nor, is it the band's worst (that honour must go to "Ishq"). But then it eventually fails to even match the patchy, blow-hot-blow-cold ways of "Azadi," or even come close to capturing the raw and untamed energy of "Junoon" and "Talaash." Then where does Junoon's eagerly awaited new release belong in the sweepstakes of the premier Pakistani rock band's long list of albums?

Let's start by asking where it stands among the hundreds of albums that have been churned out in the last few years by many new and greying local pop acts?

Considering the fact most of these acts seem more interested in 'making music' to please their respective sponsors or the pop shows and channels across the cable network, in such a cynical, dime-a-dozen scenario, "Dewaar" lies (and sounds) awkwardly sandwiched! Sandwiched between the understated brilliance of Fuzon; the giveaway and sell-out commercial heights of Abrar and Jawad; the chocolate-heroics of Shahzad Roy; fractured moral pop babblings of Najam and Junaid Jamshed; the hyped-up pomp of Noori and the usual cosmetic and manufactured bubblegum pop of the likes of Haroon, Faakhir and a million one-video-wonders you get to see on Indus Music.

And to tell you the truth, I doubt if "Dewaar" will be able sell enough to regenerate Junoon's spiralling career as the land's biggest selling rock-fusion act. In fact, after scaling unprecedented commercial (and creative) heights between 1996's "Inquilaab" and 1997's "Azadi," it has been a case of trading the downward spiral for the band. Especially ever since the unimpressive "Ishq." By the way, "Ishq" was also the album that proved exactly how and why Junoon's once charismatic image of being 'sufi-rockers' had reached a dead end.

Now, after only a few years since they last released an album, Junoon sounds beaten and out-sprinted by a host of new acts, in spite of the fact that most of these are, at best, mediocre Vital Signs/Sajjad Ali/Abrar/Junoon replicas (minus the talent but plus more air time and sponsorship deals!)

But in spite of the fact that acts like Vital Signs, Junoon (and later Abrar), were the leaders in the game of corporate wham-bam, their music, especially when compared to the stuff that is being dished out these days, was rather good.

But this cannot be said about Junoon anymore. Age and the paradoxical dependence on that cola buck started to dampen and neutralize the band's angry-young-band/crusading spirit and energy right after "Inquilaab," washing it all down as pretentious 'spiritual' pomp and ultimately, having been left with nothing more than intra-band tussles and post-Sufi-rock identity crisis.

Junoon contemporaries, Vital Signs, had started to face similar, in-band, domestic and 'spiritual' situations once they achieved the distinction of being the land's leading pop outfit in the early '90s. They were subsequently consumed whole by their own cola dilemmas and catch-22 scenarios, so much so, they have failed to record another album ever since 1995's "Hum Tum," in spite of the fact that on a number of occasions they have tried to re-group for a comeback release.

The truth is, the quantity-over-quality nature of today's pop scene in the country (actually all over the world!!), makes it important for acts like Vital Signs, Junoon, Sajjad Ali and Aamir Zaki to hang on to their thirty-something selves to keep reflecting qualitative examples for the rare number of recent talents (such as Fuzon), just like it is important for bands like Radiohead, Pearl Jam and even a greying Pink Floyd to do the same for current powerhouse potentials like the White Stripes and to negate the empty million-selling Pearl Jam imitators and emptier hip hop and boy band pot-shots.

But unfortunately, with "Dewaar," Junoon won't be able to achieve the above-mentioned necessity. And what is even more frightening is the fact that long before the album ends one already starts getting a rude feeling that this may as well be Junoon's last-ditch effort. An effort which just doesn't work, especially compared to the band's highly energetic and powerful (albeit topsy-turvy and "controversial"), back catalogue.

Did 2000's disastrous "Ishq" contain the very symptoms of the illness most mega groups ultimately fall prey to? Bad vibes between band members plus an important form of 'naive' idealism and enthusiasm being replaced with desperate and self-centred material means and ends justified with wishy-washy philosophies of 'pragmatic living' and 'moral rights' to unabashedly juxtapose corporate-brand-mongering with 'art', loop-holed religiosity and 'spirituality' and a clichéd exhibition of 'patriotism.'

Free Fall (or the 'revolution' that burped-out)
Most of the land's finest acts, from Vital Signs/Junaid Jamshed, to Najam have made a free-fall nosedive into this vicious quagmire (and so have their many young, middle-class fans). What's more, these acts' younger contemporaries are displaying (without an iota of thought or feeling), the same contradictory tendencies regarding 'moderate modernism'.

I remember the time when Vital Signs and Junoon burst onto the scene and announced a revolution of sorts in the confines of the changing, young Pakistani middle-classes. The 'revolution' has eventually spiralled down into creative and social nothingness and pretension.

So think again if you're a young man or woman feeling delighted with the contagious outbreak (more than a joyful explosion), of pop acts and TV shows. It's all boiling down to teenybopper fantasies being fed with hyped corporate labelling and chants of patriotism, or, on the other end, with an 'underground scene' with empty-headed acts aping the sounds of empty-headed acts like Nickleback, Creed, Stained, Linkin Park and a thousand more Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Red Hot Chilli Peppers wannabes.

The writing is on the wall
Soon after the Vital Signs collapsed under its own weight of reaching that conflicting balancing act between sounding arty and being yuppie, and Pepsi consequently adopted the melodic Strings to continue the cola's crusade to COLAnize young bourgeoisie Pakistan (things are far unabashed in this respect in India, though); and after Ali Haider went back from his bold Jadu-era experimentation towards his safe poster-boy image; after Sajjad Ali had given it all and he just had his past glories to exhibit; after Abrar and Jawad opted to take the worn-out bhangra-pop road; after Hadiqa started taking more interest in her wardrobe than in her music ... soon after all this and much more, Junoon seemed to be the only hope in retaining the power, the idealism and the spirit of the small but imposing early-'90s pop scene.

They did okay even until their 2001 live album. But two years later, the band sounds exhausted and creatively bankrupt. Trying hard to cash-in on their past glories, their name and, of course, their game with good ol' Coke. The cola's logo is one of the first things you notice on what is a terrible album cover. It's like a close-up front shot of the band members, as if all of them look resigned to the fate of being stuck inside a whooshing cola whirlpool.

But ironically the album opens with two impressive ditties. The layered and understated FM-rock of "Tara Jala." Written and composed by vocalist Ali Azmat, it is one of those songs, which after it grows on you, stays there for more than a while.

"Pappu Yaar" immediately follows it and what I would like to call (perhaps) Junoon's last hurrah in realms of jumpy, tongue-in-cheek songs? The music almost perfectly compliments the joyfully sardonic lyrics of the song, and it is made even more enjoyable with guitarist Salman Ahmed's trademark Page-meets-Edge riffing and his subtle echo-laid nuances, which bounce off the tight bass runs by Brian O'Connell and what is, maybe a drum machine? This song sure sounds like a hit. And credit should be given to ex-Vital Signs man Shahzad Hassan who has turned out to be one of the most exciting (but underrated) producers/engineers in the local scene. His emphasis on achieving a multi-dimensional sound via layering and some imaginative mixing does wonders on these two songs as it did on the thunderous "Garaj Baras" last year, and which again appears here as track seven on the otherwise creaking "Dewaar."

"Ghoom Tana" though not all that bad, as such, but starts to fall apart especially as a follow-up to the juicy "Pappu Yaar." Certainly no relative to the mighty Sufi-Rock chestnut, "Ghoom" on 1999's "Parvaaz," "Ghoom Tana" can serve well as an entertaining concert sing-along ditty.

The dreggy "Ghoom Tana" is followed by the title-track, "Dewaar." Starts out well with an edgy and melancholic guitar intro, only to fall all over the place once Ali and Salman start to take turns to plead individually about the walls of hate and mistrust (maybe between India and Pakistan?). The end result is that "Dewaar" never really manages to pick up, at times sounding rather tuneless.

By now you start feeling a bit restless. Maybe the next song will regenerate the promise initialised by the album's first two tracks? Absolutely not! I say absolutely because next in line is the spineless, frivolous jingle-jangle of "Maza Zindagi Ka." Obviously. After all it's a 'song' based on a Coke jingle and it plays like a Coke jingle. In fact, 'musically', it is quite similar to the Strings' over-ambitious (but under-achieving), World Cup 2003 song for Pepsi. When will this hail-our-sponsors patronization end?

It sure is a relief when this waste of tape and time is fortunately followed by "Garaj Baras." Though a 2001 Junoon song, it manages to stand the tallest on this album. The band's in great form. Ali, Brian, and especially Salman. In fact his playing is made all the more juicy and raunchy (and yet melodic) by Shahi's excellent production. But then that's about it as far as "Dewaar" is concerned.

The rest of the tracks (all five of them), are perhaps Junoon's worst ever! And what's even worse is the fact that Salman actually attempts to sing on most of them. He's definitely a great riff-master, the finest in the country. A highly improved lead player...but a vocalist he is not! What happened? Ali threatening to quit (so he can sing his awful English songs which still sound like bad mid -'80s hairspray-rock?). Salman suffering from delusions of grandeur?

To me, it's more a case of the band running out of steam and enthusiasm. It's a pity, really. This "Dewaar" crumbles so easily. So what's all the pleading for? Just have a Coke and smile. And if there is a next time for Junoon, give Brian the mike. And Malcolm. And Gumby. And Ashiq. And Sabir Zafar. And MD, Coke. And, hey, I can sing too, y' know?

STRINGS - Dhaani

Strings' latest album "Dhaani" proves two points about the band: One, that Faisal has an utterly awesome deep basso voice (too many people sing much too high) and two, that Bilal has a gift for a memorable melody that is second to none. "Dhaani" amply showcases both and by playing to the band's strengths manages to come through with flying colours.

The odds were previously stacked highly against the duo. "Duur," the album before "Dhaani" was a tough act to follow. It had taken them long years to come up with "Duur" and the album had garnered almost universal critical and commercial acclaim.

The band made the PR faux pas of ominously claiming that they had been jaded (on their website www.stringsonline.net): "We were tired and we needed a break - so we created "Dhaani" around us." Admitting tiredness did not augur well for the band or the album they were going to release. Admittedly they tried to spin it positively by adding that "'Dhaani' gave [the band] the ability to transcend. To see what was not there...to experience what was not possible...to break free. Believe. 'Dhaani' was our escape."

While the album does not have the transcendent ability so grandiosely claimed (this music is not passionate enough to transcend) in the above blurb, "Dhaani" really is quite a great pop album. Actually what the band possibly and somewhat clumsily was referring to was the rejuvenating joyous quality of pure pop music. That is certainly in evidence on several of Dhaani's tracks, and nowhere more so than on the utterly brilliant "Sohniyae." The song is an utter joy and coupled with Junoon's funky and awesome 'Pappu Yaar' provides the crank-up-loud-and-drive-fast-in-your-car soundtrack of the year.

That being said, I have come across a number of people already who utterly hate "Sohniyae." Their prime beef with the song, they claim, is that it is rather silly. How could Mr. Anwar Maqsood who wrote most of the words on the album come up with such juvenilia, they ask. I think they miss the point: when they say that the song is silly they miss that that is precisely the point. A song that goes "Na na na na na na na na meri sohniye" is not to be taken seriously. "Sohniyae" actually reminds me of the exuberance of "Strings II" or Haroon's "Raat Khait Main" for their joyous qualities and lightweightedness. The truth of the matter is that such songs are not to be taken too seriously.

In effect, there are a number of other songs on the album which also achieve pop perfection through similar joyfulness and relative lack of substance. The title track is another case on point. Dhaani? Chunarya? A green chunarya? And the point is? It is not through the lyrics that "Dhaani," the song scores: it actually scores several points through its fun music and its cultivated use of language (Bilal's aunt Zehra Nigah wrote this). Plus Faisal sounds really good in this one. The same is the case with "Chaaye Chaaye," the first single. It is more or less in the same vein and more or less the same arguments apply. I mean look at the video. Bilal is being interrogated therein and tortured. You can either take it seriously or just laugh and enjoy its silliness.

The most memorable feature of the album and its saving grace at times against the lyrics is clearly its music and more particularly the album's melodies. Bilal's talent is stupendous: Few would have dared play with the single word of 'Duur' and stretch it into 'Duuu-uuu-uuu-uuur' in the manner Bilal did to mould the same into one of the most memorable melodies in recent memory. "Dhaani" too is shot through with memorable melodies and infectious melodic phrases: This infectiousness makes pop music made by Strings stands head and shoulders above any other pop band in the land.

Beyond the melodies too, this is an excellently musical album and demonstrates a broadening of style. It shows musical growth on part of the band and varied instrumentation. However, it is certainly not experimental, groundbreaking, innovative or even groovy, as Bilal claimed in a recent interview. Admittedly the songs are more rhythm-oriented (foot-tapping) now but they really are not groove and dance-oriented like the bhangra boys (Abrar, Jawad) or say Haroon and Fakhir. The emphasis on rhythm is increased but the melody still remains prime and this is a very good thing.

This increased emphasis on rhythm is achieved in part through increased use of loops and programmed drums, but it is most evident in the guitars. The guitars in fact are a revelation. Shallum was somewhat involved in the album but by most accounts most of the guitar duties fell to the multitalented Shuja Haider and Bilal himself. These two manage quite nicely. There is a marked shift in emphasis from solos in songs and the guitars seem to take on the role of driving the rhythm more and more. Funky little riffs (often on nicely recorded acoustic guitars) now either drive or underpin the songs and the guitar fills added also continue to be tasteful. One must salute them on that count.

The compositions in themselves are excellent: "Pal" and "Bolo Bolo" are musically excellent. "Pal" particularly is another highlight to the album. The song is a duet featuring Indian singer Sagarika. It has an ominous intro and then nicely explodes into life. There are a number of disparate elements (Suresh Lalwani's outstanding violin, Shallumesque delay guitars, throbbing bass, tastefully mixed down strings, Faisal's deep voice, Sagarika's vocal gymnastics on the outro) and all of these come together quite brilliantly. The vocal interaction works a charm.

The compositions do however show the sequenced studio recording mentality. They are more along the lines of tracks being stacked on top of each other, rather than linear organic recording. One wonders how several of these songs would be reproduced live and whether they would work as well. Moreover, there are times on the album that one feels live drums would have been a better option than drum machines and loops. Sequenced music and metronomic drums can convey only so much passion. Moreover, the loops and programmed drums feel will put Strings at a disadvantage too I imagine in the rural markets. Despite using some eastern elements in their music, Strings' music is modern music. So it seems that the band will still remain popular in the urban centres with this album but one does not see this album breaking them in the rural heartland of the country.

The vocal duties on the albums are shared. This provides a good contrast throughout the album. Furthermore when the two share lead singing duties on a song ("Chaaye Chaaye") their voices play off each other quite well. Admittedly, compared to Faisal's hugely deep voice, Bilal's voice is rather insubstantial (most voices would suffer this fate in comparison). Yet Bilal comes up trumps on "Sohniyae" precisely due to lighter voice. Faisal's heavy, at times monotone voice would have killed "Sohniyae." That being said, I must also add that "Mera Bichra Yaar" would have sounded better and would have had more gravitas with Faisal singing it. Bilal unfortunately with his vocal limitations struggles to sound convincing or substantial enough on the said song.

With this we come to back to the lyrics. Earlier I had mentioned that the some of the songs on the album are joyous. One must also add that "Dhaani" is not a through and through happy-happy album. Actually, far from it, it seems to bear a quite discernible shift in mood. It might be due to the onset of artistic maturity with the boys or a concerted effort on part of Anwar Maqsood that despite the generally joyous music on the album, some of the words and topics now have a more world weary and jaded edge. Whereas on "Duur" the band sang of joyous arrival (Duur sai koi aaye), on "Dhaani" there are songs about people leaving or having left. "Kahani Mohabat Ki" is lyrically desolate and shot through with loss: 'Gaya dil se / Phir woh na aya idhar.' "Mera Bichra Yaar" may well be more abstractly about a dead loved one or more literally about the yearnings of someone who moved to the city and is missing all those that he left behind in the village. In this the album has also lyrically somewhat broadened Strings' horizon.

In general, Anwar Maqsood's lyrics are effective and often simplicity incarnate. Strength is demonstrated in the ambiguity contained in the lyrics. For example, this precise feature saves "Mera Bichra Yaar." One wonders what is the singer singing about? What starts off sounding like a straight love song is more about loss and longing and pretty soon one gets the feeling that it may even be perversely be about someone who lost a lover and is now waiting to die and join him.

Secondly, the lyrics work well as at least in "Mitti" they demonstrate a move away from the topic of amour and problems involved therewith. What may seem like your standard patriotic song has a deeper message, a plea to people thinking of immigrating to stay on perhaps?

Yet the simplicity and lightness that is also effective in the lighter pop songs also become the Achilles heel of the album on the more serious songs. The flipside of the more lightweight lyrics is that when put in a more serious context they appear pedestrian and therefore bad. "Kahani Mohabat Ki" is an example of this. Moreover, what is often missing from the lyrics is deeper insight, something one expects from Anwar Maqsood. This has rather consistently been the case with Strings' music. This was the case with "Duur." This is the case here. The video for "Anjane" I maintain gave the song the substance which the lyrics never really had in the first place. What substance is present in this album is yet to be pointed out. My prime objection therefore is that Anwar Maqsood is after all Anwar Maqsood Sahab. His pen is one of the mightiest and wittiest around in other genres of writing. Here too he should make a bit more of an effort lyrically and use themes other than the same old well-worn one of amour. For now it seems he turns in lyrics that are in the final reckoning more or less tossed off. "Kahani Mohabat Ki" is poor on this count. "Najanay Kyoun" is similarly so. Lastly, while he does generally keep it simple Anwar Maqsood's vocabulary sometimes tends to move towards the more cultured words. Sometimes this cultured use of language sits uneasily on the bed of uncultured modern pop-rock music Bilal puts together. Words like 'ghata', 'jhonka', 'panchi', and other formal Urdu words sometimes do not gel with the music's feel.

Strings now also seem to have developed an irritating reliance on repetition of trite phrases: "Bolo Bolo" the classical number with Hari Harran is the chief example of this. Despite its excellent music, I hated the song. 'Bolo bolo bolo bolo na' repeated time and again is irritating rather than anything else. Faisal's voice which sometimes leans towards a monotone almost becomes monotonous here. Sung in concert the song is sure to get crank-ups and catcalls from the audience: 'Bol wi chuk' in Lahore and 'Abay kya bolain' in Karachi.

It is interesting to note that Strings too have released this album through Sadaf Stereo. Khalid Sadaf seems to have cornered the market on great artists. First he released Noori, now Strings and soon to be followed, one hears, EP and Mizrab albums. One just wishes that he would afford these latest releases a more lavish production a'la Karavan's "Gardish" on VJ Gold.

The "Dhaani" package is competently put together. The lyrics to "Dhaani" are provided and the sleeve has been proofread well, which is saying a lot. The logos are tastefully small on the cover. The cover picture however is not all that impressive. For a band that proffers a boys-next-door appeal, the band with a faraway look on the cover is not appropriate. The rest of the sleeve is nicely shot though.

"Dhaani" also shows studio mastery and inspiration in equal measure. The mixing is sonically brilliant and so a tip of the head to Shahzad Hassan on that count. However, the recording at times seems to lack edge or overt passion. The climax of "Pal," for example, goes up to a safe high and no higher. No over-the-top pyrotechnics here, which means it is all elegantly tasteful. I guess that is something inherent to the band. They are tasteful and nice (unlike the braver and more passionate Junoon).

The upside of the band taking pains in the studio has also been that there is really no filler on the album. There are a few weak tracks, but none of the tracks qualify as filler. The downside of working hard on tracks is that this album from Strings who were never really prolific is also on the short side with only ten tracks, not very great value for money.

In conclusion, just a general point: there are many who have already concluded that this album is not as good as "Duur." I do not agree with that. What most of the detractors are primarily saying is that this album is not "Duur." True. The point is that this album is "Dhaani." Moreover, it is more about consolidation. This is album that assures us that Strings will stay the course. In short, "Dhaani" is a solid effort and heartily recommended, to paraphrase another mature artists, to be listened (and enjoyed) without prejudice.

AAROH - Sawaal

Aaroh have had it easy ever since they became winners of BOB (Battle Of The Bands, for the uninitiated) sponsored by a global Cola brand. They have not only had a walk in the park in terms of getting media visibility and name recognition but also in getting the all important contract to record their debut album. Now that the much-awaited album is out, it is pretty much a mixed bag.

"Sawaal," (question) as it is called is exactly what it may very well be. Beginning with the title song it gives you a fairly decent idea of what is to follow. As apparent from the very onset the band's favourite style of music is pop rock, which basically means the songs are catchy with strong lead guitar riffs to enhance the hard-hitting impact. The well composed title track itself is the song that clinched them the BOB and has had a fair bit of airplay on all private TV channels. Farooq, the vocalist shines brightly through the entire song with eastern classical raga influenced vocals.

"Aik Din" is up next and is reminiscent of its counterpart pop-rock songs of the last decade heard by all on MTV. Evidently the music speaks only of boy-meets-girl, falls in love - loses her and vents his strong frustration and deep anger. "Dunya," the third number, is known only to Aaroh concertgoers, as it is not accompanied by a video. This is again very well put together and the fact that the band has not indulged in much of an experimentation here makes it a refreshing change from the rest of the album. This song falls into the 'happy' category, as the depicted lover is no longer bothered about anything else but his dil ki dunya.

"Jalan" is the band's breakthrough video, which turned Aaroh into overnight celebrities. Both the song and the accompanying video are probably the best the band has ever achieved. The now classic riff in mid-song is the best demonstration of lead guitar playing ever heard from a (sic) mainstream band. And this is one you can perhaps even head-bang to. "Aankhein" is a techno-rock ballad with lots of synthesized effects. Even vocals and guitars appear to be synthesizer enhanced. Some people might find it too techno-pop or trance based for their taste.

The middle order opens with "Hoor," the first of the two 'instrumentals' on the album and despite interesting guitars and strong piano rhythm you feel something is missing - which is the vocals! Maybe the 'song' would be incomplete by local standards and, if you ask me, the sequenced drums also are a bit too much since the effect that comes through in live music is different from the one in recorded one. Next is "Dil Kee Baaton Ko," which starts as a simple 60's pop number but ends up doing going a bit overboard in this regard. I am at a loss as to why any singer with such powerful vocals would not sing 'straight' and try to follow the music instead of leading it.

"Aag Ki Tarha" is the other song with a video added, maybe as an afterthought. As you can tell we are definitely moving towards the latter half and what would be B-side of an album. This is another slow number done mostly in the pop style we have come to be very well acquainted with since it is common in Pakistan. After tuning to this song, one feels that the band should stick to its fast-paced, melody-filled, ripping guitar sound numbers as they can do much better with those. The riff here bears strong semblance to "November Rain" by Guns N' Roses.

The final quartet is the real tricky part that shall either backfire or carry the dand to the star status they obviously crave. "Jeeyay" is the patriotic song as there is a clause in the Cola contract for making one in every album with their logo on. It may become the next anthem of the youth and then again may not, (if you get my drift). "Na Kaho" is again a slow-paced affair, which would be more appealing to those who have a penchant for such songs. The penultimate number is "Ajnabi" - yes, the Vital Signs cover. But this is more than just a cover, it is an Aaroh-style interpretation complete with elaborate guitar riffs and maybe the only surviving piece of the band's raw creativity. Despite the sequenced drums, its slow pace and the fact that it is a cover song, one wishes there were more such numbers. The album comes to an end with "Zarb," the other 'song' which is an instrumental piece but has an elaborate alaap.

As a parting comment I would like to add that the mere fact that almost all new bands are into fusion of rock with raag and with indispensable guitarists, is a sign of the sweeping changes the local scene is ready to embrace. The production quality of these 'middle-music' albums is as good, if not better, than their more popular cousins. With advances in modern computer technology the WTO of music world may come into effect much sooner than in the economic world with bands producing studio quality demos in the comfort of their own homes. This is the dawn of the new age and as homage, let's listen to what its pioneers are all about.

AHMED JEHANZEB - Parastish

"Parastish", Ahmed Jehanzeb's long awaited debut album is an album haunted by the success of his debut hit song "Aik Baar Kaho". While curiously, the mega hit song does not find its way onto this album - a fatal mistake to not include it here - almost the whole album lyrically mines the same vein as "Aik Baar Kaho" and musically fumbles around for the same formula of a lovelorn hit. Yet instead of finding gold one has to make do with a host of lesser songs and several plainly bad songs. "Tu Jo Naheen", a good song, and the latest single, "Kaho Ek Din", are the best of what is on offer here. Beyond these two songs, unfortunately "Parastish" is one of the more disappointing albums in recent memory.

One had such high expectations from 'Wonder boy' (as he was, his liner notes tastelessly announce, apparently titled by the media). He certainly has the vocal ability to sing memorable songs, but unfortunately most of the material he comes up with on "Parastish" is sub-par and the performances similarly seem to have flat-lined.

For all its 14 tracks, the main problem with the album is that pretty much all of it is a lovelorn mess. Being lovelorn in itself is not that bad a thing (after all, it is the standard state of affairs in most Urdu songs) but one has more of a problem with the mess part. Most of Urdu poetry despite being similar is at least more inspired. Here a lot of what is sung is insipid: trite lines like "Kaho Ek Din," ("Kaho Ek Din"), "Mujhey Pyaar Chahiye" ("Mujhe Pyaar Chahiye") and ... as so worn-out that not even 'Wonder boy' can sing them to life. And this is the case with the relatively better songs.

There are other lesser songs on "Parastish" (the hyperbole of the title in itself should have been a warning indicator) which turn unintentionally hilarious due to excessive melodrama or just simply because they do not work as intended. "Joray" is a prime example of this: one cannot see anyone singing "Joray Bantay Hain / Joray Bantay Hain / Aasmanon Main" with a straight face. What possibly started off with an earnest paean to monogamy and matrimony with each repetition just sounds plain bad or alternately hilarious. This only goes to accentuate the bad lyrics to the album.

For the lyrics to "Parastish", AJ mostly stays close to home, either supplying the lyrics himself or using the words of his own father. Generally, parents writing lyrics is a bad idea. Anwar Maqsood is uneven for Strings and though Hadiqa's mother Khawar is a bit better, she is the exception that proves the rule. On "Parastish" Captain Safeer Ahmad or 'Dad', as he is repeatedly credited on the album sleeve, is not up to the mark. This is particularly evident when his work is put up on the same album along with lyrics by Ahmad Faraz and other more accomplished writers.

The lyrics fail in the choice of subject (love, mostly of the lost kind) as much as they fail in their actual treatment of the same. Essentially and lyrically this is a whiny album, sort of the same way Aaroh's album "Sawaal" is whiny and suffers due to having 12 songs that sound more or less the same. AJ goes a tad further with 14 similarly-mooded songs which say the same thing, badly: By the end of the album the trite nature of what AJ sings places us firmly on the side of the girl who seems to have done poor AJ wrong. One can understand why she upped and left AJ.

AJ, in the liner notes, claims that his family are his greatest critics. If that is so, then one must say, they need to be a bit discerning and more critical. Nowhere is the failure of quality control more evident than on "Daal Main Kala", a faux bhangra number, which rates amongst one of the worst songs on the album or even of the genre. With this song AJ seems to be aiming somewhere lower than Waris Baig or your local bhangra artist. The aim, it seems, was to produce a song fit for Bollywood or worse yet a Lollywood movie. One can half imagine Rishi Kapoor or Momi Rana singing it in a B-grade flop. That in itself is a sight set too low.

Initially one thought that AJ was an awesome singer. He probably still is and his Ustaad, Raees Khan Sahib indeed deserves kudos on that count, but most of this album with its monotony does him a great disservice. Even "Woh Mili Jab Se", that was supposed to be the up number on this album, suffers. The song, as apparently the lyrics indicate, was supposed to be sung as the celebration of being with one's beloved. The lyrics are "Woh mili jab se / Duniya badli jab se." Yet AJ sings it in a monotone and with a lack of joy that makes him come across as a bit of a one-note wonder. In mostly wanting to be Pankhaj Udhas, AJ just ends up being plain sad, in all senses of the word.

On other instances AJ aims to ape A. R. Rehman. He does manage to nail down the excellent backing vocals and harmonies of AR quite creditably. But the production values or the spark of the master across the border is missing. Shuja Haider and Waqar Haider, great producers with Haroon, are not on top of their game here. A serious faux pas they make is to put the vocals of AJ way upfront in the mix. Notwithstanding that the boy is quite a good singer, such treatment accentuates all the flaws in his singing and makes them a bit too noticeable. Compare this with the way canny production makes a lesser singer like Abbas Ali Khan sound better and one is quick to note that the Haider brothers did not do all that well. AJ may have the potential to be a great singer but he is certainly no Mehdi Hassan (as yet) or is in the class of any of the other truly great ghazal singers whose unadorned voices can charm the listeners to no end.

For a few songs AJ tries to be Haroon as well. "Intezar" sounds more like a Haroon reject, a distant and lesser cousin of Haroon's "Goriyae" with a touch of backing vocals from "Yara". Where Haroon is energetic, AJ is lackadaisical and makes one appreciate Haroon all the more.

By the end of the album it is clear that AJ already with his first album is stuck in a rut. For all its merits, is "Aik Bar Kaho" a song to make a career out of ? Even Ali Noor after "Manwa Re" dared not repeat the same and went on to do better things despite much demand for more of the same. AJ wants to continue being a Majnun. Therein lies a much broader problem of image and focus. If you found the video to "Kaho Ek Din" too effeminate, then you will certainly be staggered by the pictures on the inside sleeve of the album. The posy picture on the order form is one of the worst pictures one has seen in ages. Dyray Communications and Abid Nasa get quite low marks for their work here. AJ needs to show us more aspects of his personality, not just the pouty posey ones.

Despite all of the above, such is the nature of the market that the album is already being wholeheartedly pushed by Indus Music. It is a pity as the album is quite disappointing and is quite a massive betrayal of talent.

EP - Irtiqa

Shut up when I am talking to you," was a line most famously used in their debut single. EP clearly had the swagger down before they ever had the songs. "Humain Aazma" and "Kahan Hai Tu" their earliest songs, for all their energy and the then novel style (at least in Urdu) were sloganeering 101. In live performances they were also erratic. The fact that they were a "Pepsi Battle of the Bands" (BOB) band was also a strike against them. One got the feeling that the band was all hype and after fellow BOB band Aaroh's disappointing album, one did not expect much from EP.

But with their debut album EP have taken a quantum leap forward and certainly belied all expectations. "Irtiqa", as the album is aptly called, is possibly the best debut album ever released in Pakistan (beating out Noori's "Suno Ke Main Hun Jawan" and Junoon's eponymous first album.) Furthermore in its ambition, vision and execution "Irtiqa" is probably one of the best albums released hereabouts (alongside "Aitebar" (Vital Signs), "Suno Ke Main Hun Jawan" (Noori), "Parvaaz" (Junoon) and "Strings 2" (Strings).) And to top it all off EP have had the canny sense to drop the "Shut up" line from the album version of "Humain Aazma".

At a first listen, the most noteworthy thing about the album is precisely that it is an album. It is a focused and thematically cohesive piece of work with songs that gel and work together. Most often in Pakistan, albums tend to be nothing more than a collection of unrelated songs that are addled in meaning and intent beyond that of providing entertainment. "Irtiqa" attempts and manages to be art. Titling the album "Irtiqa" therefore may well have been appropriate as it reflects a change of paradigm evolution in the art of album making.

Thematically the album is a more mature look at the shape of things and feelings in real life. Darker themes are not just perfunctorily touched upon; they are delved into through words and music: the existential angst of "Kahan Hoon Main", the righteous disgust at materialism in "Fitrat", the confusion of the crossroads of "Rahguzar", the fatalistic undercurrent introduced in "Hamesha", the futility of the up and at 'em spirit in face of passing time in "Waqt" and finally the emotional meltdown of "Irtiqa III" all represent powerful counters to the pointless and head-in-ground optimism of most other popular artists today. In its darkness and sobriety "Irtiqa" is groundbreaking. The intelligence demonstrated throughout in composition and what the album says is key.

Coming to the songs themselves, almost every single one has something remarkable about it. Half of the album is superlative ("Fitrat", "Waqt", "Hamesha", "Rahguzar"), while the other tracks remain still of an exceptionally high quality and are only lesser than what they could have been due to excess of familiarity with them ("Kahan Hai Tu", "Hamein Aazma") or because they only work in parts ("Aghosh", "Barzakh"). And as a finale to it all there is "Irtiqa III" by far the best and most unique song I have heard recently in Urdu.

"Irtiqa I" provides an atmospheric intro to the album with ambient sounds and effects. It immediately serves notice to the listener that this is an album with a difference. The powerful two-punch of "Hamain Aazma" and "Kahan Hai Tu" follows. The songs lack power only because they have by now been played-to-death. Some novelty is sought to be added by newly sequenced drum patterns but one feels live drums would have certainly helped these songs.

"Hamesha" is the first of the great tracks: it is memorably catchy -- the most commercial song on the album -- and though it might be formulaic in places, it also has many merits. The intro of processed drums and piano arpeggios is delightful. The lyrics present a straight love song or a celebration a la Oasis' "Live Forever" (compare "Main rahoon ga hamesha" with "You and I are gonna live forever") but with a dark undercurrent.

"Waqt" follows "Hamesha" and once again has brilliant music. It is atmospheric and showcases the three vocalists in the band. Ahmad Ali Butt's opening English rap is jarring and almost torpedoes the song. But it is Zulfi thereafter who comes into his own as an accomplished vocalist and saves the song. Fawad, the lead vocalist, then comes in for the chorus and does a creditable job. Thereafter late into the song it all truly comes alive. Around halfway into the song, "Waqt" comes up with the most unexpected changeup, a delightful interlude of celtic flutes, and then once again it is back to the hard dynamic.

"Aghosh" soon follows and is a curious song. It has me confused. For one, like all good art, it has been variously interpreted: is it an anti-war song? Or a patriotic song with a difference? Most people seem to favour one of the two. I think it is an I-love-my-mummy song. The video seems to support this and this is the only explanation one can think of when one wonders why the song was released as a single to launch the album. The song in fact is one of the weaker ones on the album (along with "Barzakh"), if not the weakest. The sentiment behind it however is creditable.

"Irtiqa II" is a whole lot of white noise interlude that works as quite a wakeup call after the relatively gentle "Aghosh". "Rahguzar" for most people is the highlight on the album. I disagree, though musically once more the song is brilliant, starkly orchestrated with explosions of energy and demonstrates a man at crossroads. The wah solo in the album is tasteful and a highlight in its restraint (almost Dave Gilmour-like) and refusal to resort to the shred-guitar cliches.

"Fitrat" keeps up the quality and is a juggernaut of a song. Songs decrying materialism ("Mr. Fraudiye", "Paisa", etc.) have already been done in the past, but this one goes beyond those and does it with tons of passion. It opens with excellently doubled vocals that give an eerie effect to the song, before the song explodes into its chorus. Ahmad Ali Butt demonstrates his excellent singing pipes here. Lyrically, the observations may still be trite, but the intensity make them convincing.

"Barzakh" reminds one a bit of the band Tool and after two killer tracks, it comes across as a bit of a let-down. It aims for an epic feel but does not quite manage it. But it is the perfect set-up song for what comes next.

"Irtiqa III" is quite simply one of the best Urdu tracks ever. One could have written a whole piece about this song alone. Instead I will limit myself to a paragraph. The song is more of a spoken word song, a dramatic piece. For the first few minutes it threatens to be melodramatic to its own detriment, but comes alive with some fabulous symphonic work later on and a powerfully intense ending. The last three minutes of this song provide the best last three minutes of any Pakistani album ever. It reminds one of the drama of Guns N Roses' "Coma" ("Use Your Illusion I") crossed with the angst of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" ("Jang-o-Aman" is memorably rhymed with "Ustaad-e-Mohtaram" which is at once humorous and harrowing a la "Another Brick in the Wall.") The song is lyrically effective, a masterwork by Danish Jahan, Zulfi's brother. The music is truly symphonic and the production is a master-class in studio manipulation. As for the vocal delivery, Fawad puts his dramatic experience to good use.

One thing actually that "Irtiqa III" highlights and the rest of the album brings home is the appropriateness of the music and how it is used to convey feelings. "Waqt" conveys a passing of time, "Fitrat" outrage and finally "Irtiqa III" is the best at this with the whole gamut of feelings it unleashes.

Lyrically, the intensity to the words in the album is the key. It is the darkness that this album is shot through with that is important. "Suno Ke Main Aik Jhoot Hoon" as the last statement to the album is a far cry from the debut feel-good celebration of "Suno Ke Main Hun Jawan". In this there is distinctly a broadening of the emotional spectrum of lyrics on this album. The vocabulary too used on the album is great.

The treatment of various themes is more thorough here than elsewhere. Most people lyrically lambast "Paisa" (Haroon, Awaz). "Fitrat" takes it a little beyond and finds a link between human nature and materialism. In that the lyrics are certainly a bit more evolved and involved than other albums.

Moreover it is clear that this is a work of true dedication. The album is a complete artistic statement. "Irtiqa" reflects the mood of the album in its packaging too. The cover with depiction of a foetus is grim and representative of the album concept. There is no posey band on the cover, and the provision of lyrics is convenient.

As regards the personnel on the album, curiously only half of the live band makes it on record and the performances of the persons on record are varied. We have Zulfi on guitars/bass/vocals and whatnot and Ahmad, Fawad (also on keys and drum programming) and Salman on vocals. Zulfi is the star here, and the album is mostly his baby.

Fawad is the real revelation on this album. He demonstrates remarkable improvement and proves all critics wrong. His vocals are quite uniformly spot-on and his ability to emote is an asset (notwithstanding the overacting in "Irtiqa III"). What has truly been impressive has been his hand in composition of most of the best songs on the album. The highest plaudits go to Fawad for his drum programming which is stunning. While a couple of tracks could have been better with live drums (EP does after all have two drummers), his work on "Irtiqa III" and most others is stupendous. By all accounts, live drums were to be recorded at Mekaal's studio and the band in final reckoning deemed the sound they were getting to be not good enough and went with programmed drums (self produced) instead. In the climaxes the drums work out while the snares and toms, the thuddadud double bass combos and the rolls are brilliant.

While Fawad prospers, Ahmad Ali Butt is not all that convincing on record. On stage he rules all but here his rapping does not have the staccato intonation needed. That being said his singing is quite powerful on "Fitrat" and he should certainly do more of it.

Overall, EP crafts some impressive soundscapes on this album. The production is quite good. "Irtiqa" really is a studio creation and the band have used all tools at hand - sound effects, studio techniques, etc. - to come up with an accomplished production.

Stylistically there are strong hints of Linkin Park, Tool and surprisingly quite a bit of Pink Floyd and Queensryche in this album. But to their credit EP has absorbed the influences and by and large come up with something uniquely their own.

All of this is not to say that "Irtiqa" is a perfect album. There are a few minor criticisms: For one, the interludes really should have been made skippable tracks. As things stand if one wants to listen to "Hamain Aazma" one has to hear over a minute of random interlude noises before the song even starts. Two, the guitars for all their excellent tone could have done with better production. The wall of sound required on up numbers is missing sometimes. "Kahan Hai Tu" and more particularly "Hamain Aazma" could have done with the huge treatment, whereas on record one only gets to hear a couple of guitars.

Three, if one is more thorough in looking at it, the concept of the album does not really work. For one, the order in which the tracks are put out is bit confused. The kid is born with "Irtiqa I" and already he is singing "Hamain Aazma"? And then is immediately assailed with the doubts of "Kahan Hai Tu"? Admittedly, some of the best concept albums have had this problem. "Sargeant Pepper's" by the Beatles was a concept album "only because we [the Beatles] said so," according to John Lennon. "Irtiqa" might have thematic coherence but some of the songs are out of place or order if the album is indeed seeking to be a conceptual narration. Lastly, the title of the album is not accurate in the sense that "Irtiqa" stands for evolution. The album actually describes devolution, or the disintegration of a man-child.

In conclusion, with "Irtiqa", the bar has clearly been raised for other artists. I would venture so far as to say this is the best Pakistani album bar none. Compare "Irtiqa" to any other album to see how. You will be left with a staggering thought: this is their debut album and the band is still in its '20s. The future is alive with possibilities and for now one gives in to the art of "Irtiqa".

ALI ZAFAR- Huqa Pani

Last year, a young boy in a bright blue jacket jumped out of a video playing on the TV screen and landed straight into the fantasies of a million adolescent girls all over the country. The video was the effervescent "Channo". The boy was Ali Zafar, who had been styled to the max in a simple but incredibly well edited video that gave yet another avatar to our home grown style Guru Tariq "'Mr. Fraudiay' and 'Behti Naar' Bad Man" Amin. The song catered to the lowest common denominator, but the tune was fresh, thanks to multi layered electronica and the Aladdin concept and bright colours that turned it into a frothy package making it stay on your mind even after the silly veejay comes on to announce yet another song.

There is something about "Channo". It's not brilliant lyrics - far from it - tacky but made delightful with the music that has been composed and arranged by Zafar himself. A repetitive but rousing beat with some Middle Eastern influence thrown in winds itself around you like a pop python and refuses to let go. "Channo" has great recall value. It is one of those songs that you remember even though you don't particularly want to. And the visuals are hard to forget too. Zafar is a good-looking chap. Juvenile, yes, but that is precisely why he is selling so much.

Teenage is the time to stock up on the records. Teenage demand was the driving force behind Nazia and Zoheb, Vital Signs and Junoon. Teenagers are the demographic the pop music industry caters to. Therefore, the success of Britney Spears, Justine Timberlake and a perpetual stream of boy and girl bands that has swamped the music industry in recent years. Pop needs new icons. Fresh faces to feed the demand of the new age. Each generation must have its pop idol. Now that Junaid Jamshed has grown a beard and Ali Haider, Haroon and Fakhir have crossed the thirty mark, the industry seemed to be waiting for an Ali Zafar to enter its fold. It would be rather perverse for thirteen year olds giggly fans of pop to pine for thirty plus pop icons.

Talk about making the right moves at the right time. Come up with a well-made video to a catchy tune, and your album will sell. And people are still going in droves to lap up Ali Zafar's debut album, which has been nestling comfortably on top of the charts for some time now.

Two years ago Ali Zafar was also the peeping Tom painter checking out Preeto from the opposite apartment in Ahsan and Amena's colourful laugh riot of a video for Abrar. Indeed, the title track "Huqa Pani" is a nod in Abrar's direction. Bhangra jazzed up with what has now become Ali Zafar's trademark electronica. Yes, there is a distinct Stereo Nation influence, but Zafar makes the songs his own with his original delivery.

A bit surprising for an album that tries to do what Ali Haider tried to do with "Jadu" - that is come up with Pakistani trance. He failed miserably and thereafter went back to doing what he has always done. Where Haider fails, Zafar succeeds, because he bends electronica to accommodate what we traditionally know as 'song'. He experiments with "Ek Pal", "Ishq", and "Din Doobay", which take more from Western trance than the Eastern ethos, but they remain songs as much as they do dance numbers. What Faraz Anwar and Ali Haider were trying to do was a bit too radical for its time. "Jadu" did sell, but about as much as Junaid Mumtaz's recent debut "Tribal Council" did, that is, not much and only to a select cult following by people who are aware of the culture that is so necessary for hardcore trance. "Jadu" was a big comedown because Ali Haider lost track of who he was catering to. He should have realized that aunties who watch "Chandni Raatein" do not care for trance.

Ali Zafar's debut tells you one thing. He knows what he wants to do and he knows who he is catering to. What jumps out at you is the filmi influence. The finest song on the album is "Jungnuon Se Bhar Le Aanchal" that Ali Zafar recorded for Samina Peerzada's "Shararat". The film bombed, but it gave Ali a chance to show his mettle. With lyrics by Aqeel Ruby and composed by Wajahat Attrey, it is a gem of a number. It is the strains of the bansuri floating in and out of the lilting melody showcasing what makes film music such an integral part of our cultural landscape even when our cinema is in the state Sea View has been in since the Tasman Spirit broke into two.

Ali Zafar is a part of that breed of musicians who tinker with music on their computer. They are into dance music coming out of the West, but at the same time they are much rooted in where they come from. They admire Madonna but revere Mohammad Rafi, Ahmed Rushdie and Kishore Kumar.

"Chal Dil Meray, Chor Yeh Pheray, Yeh Duniya Jhooti, Log Looteray" is one of the most outstanding songs on "Huqa Pani". Ali delivers it in the way the old guard of sub-continental filmdom did. "Chal Dil Meray" is very filmi and Ali delights in it unabashedly. Then there is "Rangeen" that is very much in the vein of "Disco Dancer" (Yes, the Mithun Chakraborty smash hit) and the spin offs it inspired. In his early twenties, Ali Zafar is an 80s child and this come through loud and clear on his debut. The only other pop star to have capitalized on film music is Fakhir whose cover of "Sab Toun Sohniye" remains one of his biggest hits.

What elevates "Huqa Pani" above the old wine in a new packaging formula is the fact that Ali Zafar can sing. His command over his voice is tremendous. He's our Justin Timberlake, with that filmi touch. "Teri Yaad Aye" and "Dekha Sung Teray" are two self-indulgent numbers that give him ample opportunity to show off the strength of his chords. He shows promise as an crooner in the vein of the old timers, but it remains to be seen where he will go from here. His songs are derived from cinema and his music from the club scene. He is as influenced by bhangra as he is by Michael Jackson and one also see shades of Kishore Kumar, Daft Punk, 70s disco and rave music as Pakistan knows it.

It's very interesting bunch of influences that make "Huqa Pani" such an attractive package. And one is thankful. It is nice to know that bands like Noori, EP and Aaroh won't completely take over. In an age where everything, from the food that we eat to the clothes we wear, has all become a statement, simple songs are needed too, songs of pyar and mohabbat, jugnus and channos. One needs a dose of frivolity to balance Pakistani Rock's ever increasing existential angst. "Huqa Pani" does exactly that.

After a very promising debut, Ali Zafar should go places. He has appeared in TV plays, sung for a film, had a hit video, modeled in TV commercials, but still come out with an album untainted by sponsorship. To top it all, underneath the most ideal pretty-boy package deal lies promising talent. Ali Zafar, like Timberlake, is the real thing. It remains to be seen where he goes from here; but he can rest assured his outstanding debut has made the ride much smoother.

Muniba Kamal
Last year, a young boy in a bright blue jacket jumped out of a video playing on the TV screen and landed straight into the fantasies of a million adolescent girls all over the country. The video was the effervescent "Channo". The boy was Ali Zafar, who had been styled to the max in a simple but incredibly well edited video that gave yet another avatar to our home grown style Guru Tariq "'Mr. Fraudiay' and 'Behti Naar' Bad Man" Amin. The song catered to the lowest common denominator, but the tune was fresh, thanks to multi layered electronica and the Aladdin concept and bright colours that turned it into a frothy package making it stay on your mind even after the silly veejay comes on to announce yet another song.

There is something about "Channo". It's not brilliant lyrics - far from it - tacky but made delightful with the music that has been composed and arranged by Zafar himself. A repetitive but rousing beat with some Middle Eastern influence thrown in winds itself around you like a pop python and refuses to let go. "Channo" has great recall value. It is one of those songs that you remember even though you don't particularly want to. And the visuals are hard to forget too. Zafar is a good-looking chap. Juvenile, yes, but that is precisely why he is selling so much.

Teenage is the time to stock up on the records. Teenage demand was the driving force behind Nazia and Zoheb, Vital Signs and Junoon. Teenagers are the demographic the pop music industry caters to. Therefore, the success of Britney Spears, Justine Timberlake and a perpetual stream of boy and girl bands that has swamped the music industry in recent years. Pop needs new icons. Fresh faces to feed the demand of the new age. Each generation must have its pop idol. Now that Junaid Jamshed has grown a beard and Ali Haider, Haroon and Fakhir have crossed the thirty mark, the industry seemed to be waiting for an Ali Zafar to enter its fold. It would be rather perverse for thirteen year olds giggly fans of pop to pine for thirty plus pop icons.

Talk about making the right moves at the right time. Come up with a well-made video to a catchy tune, and your album will sell. And people are still going in droves to lap up Ali Zafar's debut album, which has been nestling comfortably on top of the charts for some time now.

Two years ago Ali Zafar was also the peeping Tom painter checking out Preeto from the opposite apartment in Ahsan and Amena's colourful laugh riot of a video for Abrar. Indeed, the title track "Huqa Pani" is a nod in Abrar's direction. Bhangra jazzed up with what has now become Ali Zafar's trademark electronica. Yes, there is a distinct Stereo Nation influence, but Zafar makes the songs his own with his original delivery.

A bit surprising for an album that tries to do what Ali Haider tried to do with "Jadu" - that is come up with Pakistani trance. He failed miserably and thereafter went back to doing what he has always done. Where Haider fails, Zafar succeeds, because he bends electronica to accommodate what we traditionally know as 'song'. He experiments with "Ek Pal", "Ishq", and "Din Doobay", which take more from Western trance than the Eastern ethos, but they remain songs as much as they do dance numbers. What Faraz Anwar and Ali Haider were trying to do was a bit too radical for its time. "Jadu" did sell, but about as much as Junaid Mumtaz's recent debut "Tribal Council" did, that is, not much and only to a select cult following by people who are aware of the culture that is so necessary for hardcore trance. "Jadu" was a big comedown because Ali Haider lost track of who he was catering to. He should have realized that aunties who watch "Chandni Raatein" do not care for trance.

Ali Zafar's debut tells you one thing. He knows what he wants to do and he knows who he is catering to. What jumps out at you is the filmi influence. The finest song on the album is "Jungnuon Se Bhar Le Aanchal" that Ali Zafar recorded for Samina Peerzada's "Shararat". The film bombed, but it gave Ali a chance to show his mettle. With lyrics by Aqeel Ruby and composed by Wajahat Attrey, it is a gem of a number. It is the strains of the bansuri floating in and out of the lilting melody showcasing what makes film music such an integral part of our cultural landscape even when our cinema is in the state Sea View has been in since the Tasman Spirit broke into two.

Ali Zafar is a part of that breed of musicians who tinker with music on their computer. They are into dance music coming out of the West, but at the same time they are much rooted in where they come from. They admire Madonna but revere Mohammad Rafi, Ahmed Rushdie and Kishore Kumar.

"Chal Dil Meray, Chor Yeh Pheray, Yeh Duniya Jhooti, Log Looteray" is one of the most outstanding songs on "Huqa Pani". Ali delivers it in the way the old guard of sub-continental filmdom did. "Chal Dil Meray" is very filmi and Ali delights in it unabashedly. Then there is "Rangeen" that is very much in the vein of "Disco Dancer" (Yes, the Mithun Chakraborty smash hit) and the spin offs it inspired. In his early twenties, Ali Zafar is an 80s child and this come through loud and clear on his debut. The only other pop star to have capitalized on film music is Fakhir whose cover of "Sab Toun Sohniye" remains one of his biggest hits.

What elevates "Huqa Pani" above the old wine in a new packaging formula is the fact that Ali Zafar can sing. His command over his voice is tremendous. He's our Justin Timberlake, with that filmi touch. "Teri Yaad Aye" and "Dekha Sung Teray" are two self-indulgent numbers that give him ample opportunity to show off the strength of his chords. He shows promise as an crooner in the vein of the old timers, but it remains to be seen where he will go from here. His songs are derived from cinema and his music from the club scene. He is as influenced by bhangra as he is by Michael Jackson and one also see shades of Kishore Kumar, Daft Punk, 70s disco and rave music as Pakistan knows it.

It's very interesting bunch of influences that make "Huqa Pani" such an attractive package. And one is thankful. It is nice to know that bands like Noori, EP and Aaroh won't completely take over. In an age where everything, from the food that we eat to the clothes we wear, has all become a statement, simple songs are needed too, songs of pyar and mohabbat, jugnus and channos. One needs a dose of frivolity to balance Pakistani Rock's ever increasing existential angst. "Huqa Pani" does exactly that.

After a very promising debut, Ali Zafar should go places. He has appeared in TV plays, sung for a film, had a hit video, modeled in TV commercials, but still come out with an album untainted by sponsorship. To top it all, underneath the most ideal pretty-boy package deal lies promising talent. Ali Zafar, like Timberlake, is the real thing. It remains to be seen where he goes from here; but he can rest assured his outstanding debut has made the ride much smoother.

MIZRAAB - Maazi, Haal, Mustaqbil

It says something about an album that its distributor releases it without knowledge of the band. Or without much fanfare and after sitting on it for quite a while. Or after being prompted publicly in articles to release it. Precisely what it says about the album however is open to question. Given that Mizraab is helmed by the prodigiously talented guitarist Faraz Anwar the album may well have been a cult masterpiece whose brilliance was perhaps not to be acknowledged by many. Khalid Sadaf, the distributor; however seemed to have been apprehensive about the album's prospects. His point of view seems to have been that the album was not commercial enough. After having listened to the album for a week now, I am unfortunately inclined to agree with Khalid Sadaf. But for different reasons. The album is uneven and, barring some significant guitar fireworks, it is not all that it promised to be.

Let us talk about the good things first: Faraz Anwar the guitarist shines as expected. His tone on various songs, his technique, touch and feel, all are pretty much spot on. On most occasions he, to his credit, and unlike other resident maestros on the scene, avoids the tendency to overplay. Lyrical and at times jaw-droppingly brilliant, the album is a guitar playing master class. Musically, the highlights and indeed the life to the album is provided through the guitars. In fact, so good is Faraz that most find it intimidating talking about the album negatively, so much so that most people I talked to seemed to rave about the guitars on the album without even having listened to it.

Amongst the songs, the strongest are two tracks already released: "Insaan" and "Izhaar". The former highlights the ability of the band to come up with songs with an epic feel to them and the latter points out that Mizraab can write punchy, great, punk singles if they really want to. Hot on the heels of these two the Floydesque "Jaaney Main" is truly excellent if a tad too close to Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb". The moody "Panchi" and brutal "Maucee" are each musically great. In fact, come to think of it, most of the album is musically quite accomplished.

Furthermore, in terms of scope and ambition the album dares to think big (consider the grand title "Maazi, Haal, Mustaqbil") and much of the hype surrounding it suggested that it was a serious minded album. And that indeed it is. Message-wise, the positivity of "Insaan" (Insaan kay khwab ki tabeer to insaan hi hai, an ode to self-reliance), "Izhaar", "Maucee" (Mayusi gunah hai) is certainly welcome. The uncertainty of "Panchi" and doom and gloom of a few other tracks certainly provides a broad emotional spectrum to the album. Moreover, the band tries its hands at a number of various styles of song and indeed Faraz attempts to sing in various different voices. All of these are of course creditable things to attempt in an album and are an effort to break away from the normal pop bhangra fare on radio and TV.

However, unfortunately, in most of these creditable efforts and aspects mentioned above, is precisely where the album falls flat.

Firstly, in its serious-mindedness the album is also quite trite and not all that elegant. Lyrically, thematically and in the treatment of each the album is quite amateurish. A step back for lyricist Adnan who was quite good with Karavan. Notwithstanding the positivity and the breadth of emotions attempted by the album, there is the amateurish tinge of Noori-like philosophizing on most occasions (curiously spelt) "Maucee" (gunah hai), resembles slogans like "Suno ke main hoon jawan," but is even lesser than that. That Faraz repeats such trite lines mantra-like again and again does not give them any more meaning with each repeat, but rather lessens the meaning.

Contrast the multi-layered meanings in lines such as "Rabba merai haal da mehram tu" ("Rabba" - Mekaal Hassan Band) with "Shaam hui ghar aa panchi" ("Panchi" - Mizraab) and one sees the difference and notes the weakness of the latter. While cliched lines like "Himmat kar, hasad na kar" are so bad that they possibly seem to have been read off the back of some passing truck. The lyrics otherwise too lack focus and rarely talk about specifics. General trite metaphors of sehras, panchis abound. One just would have hoped the band when it backed its words with such focused and powerful music would have named names, talked about more specifics than rage just with generality. In comparison to, for example, EP's "Irtiqa," "Maazi,Haal, Mustaqbil" remains quite awkward.

While there is quite a bit of experimentation with styles on the album, the songs still have a derivative feel to them. A lot of the time can be spent with the album playing spot-the-influences and more. Each song seems to have been written in the particular mode of a band that Faraz seems to like: there is a Pink Floyd song ("Jaaney Main"), there is a punk song ("Izhaar") and so it goes on. And it is in this effort to try different styles that the band stumbles into possibly the worst song on the album.

The marriage of clap-along soul/gospel with eastern melodies in "Kitnee Sadiyan" is bold but goes seriously awry just because Faraz's weak falsetto makes it sound like a joke. The contrast between the huskily voiced verses and the falsetto vocals is just plain bad. The moment in between when Faraz starts singing "Choti choti khushiyaan" is so Tappish (remember the nerdy '60s peace song "Listen to the Flower People" in Spinal Tap) that one just wonders if Faraz had his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. One doesn't know if he is subversively mocking love songs or in earnest trying to sing one. Sadly the latter appears to be the case. Composition-wise too, the song doesn't go anywhere. It just meanders and ends, a true example of the downside of cut-and-paste songwriting with sequencers. The payoff of such songs invariably comes in the end with an exultant crescendo. None is heard here. In short, I could describe "Kitnee Sadiyan" as a falsetto-gospel-clapalong-70's Pakistani TV style song, but I would much rather describe it otherwise, as an unintentional joke. Funnier still, the band, it is heard, is making this their next commercial single. Hear it to make up your mind.

With the above song, one can see and appreciate what precisely Faraz was trying to achieve but unfortunately he fails to achieve the same. Most of it is down to the fact that he does not seem to have the vocal chops to do so. Just as the strongest thing about the album is Faraz Anwar (his guitars), the weakest link also turns out to be Faraz with his singing. Metal has often been gifted with some truly great singers. Faraz in comparison is just a weak, Mizrable singer actually (pun intended). He tries his hand at a number of voices and struggles with most. "Kitnee Sadiyan" has him singing in several octaves; he is unconvincing in most. His Eddie Vedder-like singing on "Izhaar" is possibly his most convincing. The production on the album, especially the choice and sound of sequenced drums is weak (bad cymbal crashes on "Izhaar"). The guitar tones, however, it bears repeating are excellent.

The packaging of the album is adequate; an improvement for Sadaf, but the distributor still skimps by keeping the booklet insubstantial. A lyric sheet is not provided and with Faraz's tendency to slur the same would have been welcome. Nevertheless, at least the band makes an effort to be artistic with the cover and do something other than moodily pose on it. The cover picture is an artistic collage. A bit of it is confusing: One can barely make out the dove ('Panchi') that is supposedly mixed in there, but overall the cover is nicer than most pointless 'here is the band posing' covers one gets to see.

In conclusion and unfortunately, one has to state that Maazi, Haal, Mustaqbil" is a disappointing album. One had expected so much more from Mizraab and the band by en large fails to deliver with "Maazi, Haal, Mustaqbil". Weak vocals, lack of polish in the lyrics and flat drums; paraphrasing what Frank Zappa once said to himself, the best advice to Faraz Anwar would be: "Hey guitar boy, just play yer guitar."