Isaac Delusion, Opus

 

Isaac Delusion is a word play between gravity-defying music and the man who discovered why apples fall. This band of present day troubadours from Paris that play ultra-chill, indie electro-pop subtly infused into the woodland haunt of the folk song. “You could say it’s a mix between Loic’s folk-rock influences and my hip-hop and electronic influences,” says Jules Pacotte, who plays “the machines.” He and Loic Fleury (singer, guitarist) started off as a duo before recruiting Nicolas Bourrigan on bass and Bastien Dodard on keyboard and guitar. Brought in for a nationwide tour, courtesy of Alliance Francaise, the Bangalore stop landed them at Opus for an evening attended largely by French students and expats.

On ‘Transistors,’ a warm and spacey organ with diving pitch modulations and the chopped-up vocal loops of a soft-voiced woman continue over a laid-back drumbeat. The overwhelming quality is that of a harmony between the personal and the impersonal, where intimate impressions are molded into dance beats and pop refrains. “Just like our minds keep throwing signals, our heads like transistors, keep on receiving, yeah.”

Isaac Delusion is the latest in a new wave of French bands that prefer to write their lyrics in English. Cultural protection laws in France limit non-French content so locals find themselves competing for airtime with established International acts. Despite this, the Internet generation has gradually globalized its music to reach out to the expanding English-speaking realm. The band just completed a tour of Europe and America, which was received well. “We’ve come to India hoping to see a lot of colors and to experience spirituality,” says Fleury in his thick accent, none of which makes it through to his songs.

The draw between styles likens their music to hybrid acts such as MGMT and The Beta Band. However, what clearly gives them their uniqueness is Fleury’s impeccable, high register singing voice, influenced by Jeff Buckley and Patrick Watson. A synth loop runs a minor key on ‘Supernova.’ The moodiness seeps into the vocals, causing strains akin to the style of Thom Yorke, though with the inclusion of a funky bass line over an even beat, the song treads further than Radiohead would in balancing gloom with dance. “You look at me with your electric eyes and I see a supernova in the sky.”

‘Land of Gold,’ is a more intrepid piece exploring stronger images over soulful folk blues with echoing guitars and a snappy bass. "Begging for a drop of water when I saw this strange man in his fancy shoes… he’ll save you from a painful debt until you have to pay the bill… never shake the devil's hand." Their Midnight Sun and Early Morning E.P.s were released under the French label Cracki Records. A lot of the songs played at Opus were unreleased tracks from an upcoming album. The catchy tunes and friendly beats caught the crowd’s adoration. “In France everyone is dancing,” says Pacotte, when asked about the dining audience. When a strong chorus cheered for ‘one more/encore’ the band conceded to play the extra song, an up-tempo afro-beat piece that left the rest of the night with anticipation.  

Dualist Inquiry

Dualist Inquiry recently played at Counter Culture, as part of the recently released album Doppelganger’s promo tour. “The gigs in Chennai and Bombay were mad. There were long lines waiting to get in,” said the singular entity, Sahej Bakshi, standing by the counter where CDs and related merchandize were being sold. It soon appeared the buzz is just as hot here in Bangalore. More than the average number turned up who would travel to Whitefield and spend Rs.1,000 to support an indie act.

To begin with, the dark room lit by the visuals, had a third of the turn out accepting an invitation to stand around in front. They stood as though slightly stunned by the DJ in a penguin t—shirt who would leave his sequencer on autopilot whenever he felt like picking up his electric guitar to launch into rocky, ambient sections. An installation with a pair of clouds dangling between two stacks of white boxes filled up with a splashy, mapped projection. As though in accordance, a short but hopeful spell of rain decided to smother many months of dry heat, ushering the sizeable crowd in to cozy up with some soulful electronica that would follow. The set consisted elements of dub-step, disco, hip-hop, house and trance, though the core material always tended to fall back on guitar based refrains full of calming melody. The variety of sounds and styles sometimes compromised flow between tracks, but the strong groove in the beats was mostly glitched near to contemporary perfection.

By the time Sahej Bakshi started running through Doppelganger, everyone was standing before the stage, moving as they softened, so excluding dinner tables was a good call by the management. The album features the signature Dualist trait of swinging from an almost meditative, emotional optimism to something hip. The thick, bass wiggles run alongside pop-rock beats and riffs. The visual spectacle occupied the mind from the constant swaps from analog to digital and psychedelic to cyborg. If the lack of enduring allegiance to any specific form grants something for purists to complain about, it’s countered by never being intrusive or defiant. In short, the mood invites you to play it over.

“Dualism is a concept that anyone can understand and everyone can relate to,” says Bakshi. “I try to create the feeling of a rollercoaster,” he adds, regarding the thematic blend. Once the album was dealt with, the set got heavier, with a mount in bpm and breakier beats. There was even a possible drum and bass moment in there, when the evening’s tempo peaked. Coldplay and Skrillex covers were played along with originals, with something to please most pop demands of the day. Whether funky, energetic, happy or chilled out, Dualist Inquiry’s music borders on feel-good. By the time the two-hour list was finished, the rain cleared for departure, as the crew began to take apart the traveling set.  

Variations on the 6/8

Put on any Brice Wassy track and you could attribute the goose pimples on your back to pulses being revealed from the most primal recesses within you. The renowned Cameroonian drummer, also known as ‘King of the 6/8,’ is often backed by a mysterious Indian-origin, French keyboardist named Dondieu Divin, who recently played in Bangalore at an unlikely spot, a boutique garments store at The Leela Palace.

Upon entering the building, you’d barely feel the music, obscured by a level. Down the escalator, The Plantation House is playing host to fewer than 50 people, with wild, afro-beat inspired jazz blazing every corner of the store. Passersby stop to stare and a father dances with his shouldered kid. The performance comprises of Jazz standards rendered to fit variations of the 6/8 rhythm. Accompanying the enigmatic keyboardist are three Chennai-based musicians: Maarten Visser on Saxophone, Naveen Kumar on Bass Guitar, and Jeoraj George on Drums.

“Would you like to say something?” Visser asks Divin and someone shouts, “Speech!” He says his English is not so good, but decides to give a speech the African way and so they go on playing. On ‘Footprints,’ Visser takes off into a bebop-ish flight as Naveen and Jeoraj hold the rhythm and Divin steers the show with an invisible hand. Half way through the song, a power cut slashes the sound. Leaving just a small pause to wave at fate, Visser and Jeoraj go on jamming in the dark. When the current’s back, the keys and bass hold back till when their re-entry is natural and it could have all been planned.

“I know there’s 6/8 in India- Dappankuthu, but it’s not like this,” Divin finally says. “1—2--1-2-3-4…“ ‘One note Samba’ simulates a racy 60s spy thriller. Rim shots roll like a telegram while the keys are running hurriedly away from something. It abruptly shifts into a warm, luminous, swinging section as though remembering something pleasant, but glancing back, it dashes on down the alleyway.

Divin now gathers a whole horn section on his second keyboard, and the next track sounds like a Fela Kuti arrangement. When the drum solo seems almost irretrievably lost, he looks over to Visser and shimmers a few notes. The latter catches on, exploding into a saxophone solo. Certain high notes make it sound like a trumpet, and then he broods on low multiphonics and somewhere in the middle slap-tongues through a whole section. “I’ve played a lot of jazz before, but this has by far been the most challenging show for me,” says Jeoraj, who has played with some of the biggest names in Indian music. “African rhythms are extremely complicated but it needs to be played with just the feel. It comes from years of listening.”

“At times, we’d individually be making no sense but he’d hold it all together. His level of complexity is something else,” says Naveen about the keyboardist, who has spent the last four years in recluse at Auroville. “There must be between 30 to 50 serious jazz musicians in the country,” Visser notes, “but everyone’s doing other things to sustain. You can’t live off Jazz.”

Indigo Children at Hard Rock Rising

“This is no ordinary love.” A loud, distorting screech from the guitar ends the Sade cover and a few enthusiasts hoot. It’s ‘Indigo Children’ from Delhi, headlining this year’s Hard Rock Rising, Bangalore. They don’t claim to be advanced beings from another planet as their name suggests, but they do play with certain higher frequencies. Inspired by the Indian freedom struggle to name themselves after a song by the industrial band Puscifer, they hail from a time when cosmopolitan Indian groups are just starting to go beyond shelling out a set-list full of covers. Though they’re missing their lead guitarist tonight, the remaining three members manage to create enough space between them to comfortably engage time.

             

“Where will we be? The winter's comin' on…summer's almost gone.” You might put Indigo Children down as a 90’s psychedelic rock act with a good amount of alternative influences thrown in. The impact of Jimi Hendrix is almost always apparent in the way Sanchal Malhar yanks on the strings, but with modern additions to his sound like the fuzz-head and delay pedals that the original virtuoso never got to see. Meanwhile, bassist Nikhil Rufus Raj and drummer Sahil Mendiratta bring in influences such as Tool, Muse and Mars Volta. The vocal melody figures as the central theme in the songs, when they’re are not jamming past extensive solos.

The sound travels smoothly despite the resounding, high ceiling. Beholding the band on the awkwardly leveled stage above the bar, surrounded by Clapton’s steel-body guitar, Elton John and Prince’s elaborate stage suits, and John Densmore’s snare drum, the crowd has somehow fallen into an unresponsive quiet. A basic groove on the drum speeds up to match a running bass line. A post-Arctic Monkeys Black Sabbath cover turns things around. “You introduced me to my mind and left me wanting, you and your kind.“Either, the rocknroll is finally oozing out of the merchandize and through the amps, or these guys have been playing for long enough to have a seasoned grasp over what they invoke in the crowd –who’re now cheering between their mouthfuls. The track continues into some hip-hop, with a mash up of Dr. Dre, Nasty Nas and an own composition. By now the crowd’s excited. The hip-hop element working through the live instruments make them sound like Red Hot Chilli Peppers with a Delhi twang. “We’re doing it old school, we’re going Shiva style.’

“Thanks so much for putting up with this. You all look so good, by the way; and well dressed.” They launch into the last song for the evening, an alternative tribute to The Beatles’ spiritual side. It starts with ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ and ends on ‘Within you, Without you,” causing wonder over how cultures continually influence each other back and forth. The kids in Delhi are affected by ‘the same shit everyday, rigged systems, traffic, etc.,” says Sahil. “So we get high and write songs, right?” “Everything that’s real has to do with your body and your own self,” Sanchal adds, as he rolls himself a tall cigarette. “and politics is an absolute waste of time.” 

The Burning Deck

The Burning Deck just released their debut album ‘Kalinihta’ at B-Flat, with a performance of songs integrating prog-rock bass lines over ominous, laptop-generated sounds and drums. Bassist Sandeep Madhavan (Atma, Old Jungle Saying) and Pianist Floyd Santimano (Quetaal) who form the core of the act roped in the Galeej Gurus drummer, Kishan Balaji and singer Alexis D’Souza for the show.

Sandeep and Floyd started toying with their bedroom-recording project in September of last year, working around influences like Cinematic Orchestra, Portishead and Massive Attack. Their dark down-tempo sessions picked up momentum around the sinister sounding title-track of the album. The concept was inspired by the poem ‘Casabianca,’ by Felicia Hermans, describing a boy standing on the burning deck of a battle-wrecked ship, waiting for word from his father who, without his knowledge, has already been killed. “It’s about being caught between the devil and the deep blue sea,” says Sandeep. “It was born out of relationships I was in at the time, expressing feelings of being rooted in a spot, not because you can’t decide for yourself, but because there is no right or wrong.”

“Hello. We are The Burning Deck. We play heartwarming, soul-stirring, rocky, groovy music.” Ambient loops linger a while till they’re shattered by some dark funk. ‘The Boy on the Burning Deck,’ is peppered with a little dub step synth work on an intense, regular drumbeat. It evokes the opening storm of Shakespeare’s Tempest if the Nine Inch Nails were to have scored it- desperation and death under the mercy of unseen, darker forces and a scene significant to everything that comes before and after, but in a lightning flash, it’s all over. The songs are about 4-5 minutes long and if the crowd seems reluctant with their response, a few do make an effort to cheer the electrogloom as and when the tracks crash into a lull. The ambient music seems better suited to festivals with big sound or evenings with a pair of headphones than venues that anchor the crowd to tables.  

Kishan takes a break leaving it to the primary duo. Impending, murky bass lines with frightful layers of distortion and a Casio beat alongside abstract fills from the keyboard. The scene is sort of set for Miles Davis to step in for a minimal tech rendition of Bitches Brew, but it’s left right there. There’s a constant distress in the music with a pulse that builds up and strips down almost immediately.

On ‘Kalinihta,’ Sandeep plays the bass with a sarangi bow as Floyd, hunched over his laptop, sends forth sci-fi time warps that stumble over Kishan’s splashing cymbals. A simple drumbeat cuts through, tying things together and a sample of a Greek friend singing ‘goodnight’ on Skype kicks in.

“All it takes is a girl!” As if not to dispute that statement the crowd steps forward as Alexis takes the stage. Her song proceeds through a mournful Morcheeba-sound, ringing full like the unease built until now found a voice, introducing what’s been the one missing element in the band.

“With the album finally out, we’ll be looking to hit the road with a four-city tour,” says Sandeep, sounding confident of finding his crowd.