Gig Review: The Effortless Brilliance of Three Amazing Musicians Playing As One - Or, How Arooj Aftab (and Band) Subtly Blows Away Everything
Gig reviews...I'm bringing them back. And here's a report on a show that was simply one for the ages. An intoxicating performance by Arooj Aftab as part of the Arts Festival.
Arooj Aftab
MFC; Wellington
Thursday, March 14
There’s an otherworldliness — and an absolute calmness, a spellbinding clarity — to the voice of Pakistani singer/composer Arooj Aftab. Her 2021 album, Vulture Prince is what lifted her up and out of obscurity. She had been making music in (and for the) public for at least a decade before that, but this was the international breakthrough; so much so that she’s still touring it. Though she admits, a couple of songs into her Wellington set, that these are likely the last shows where she’ll play all of the songs from that album. She’s sick of it. In the way that artists are always seeking out fresh ground. She has a new album due in a month. And, since Vulture, she’s collaborated with jazz pianist Vijay Iyer and multi-genre multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily to make 2023’s darkly beautiful, spellbinding Love in Exile.
But for this set, where she is joined by American guitarist Gyan Riley, and Greek bassist Petros Klampanis, it’s back to Vulture Prince, to send it out into the world in this shape for its final fling. The songs are liminal, spacious, intoxicating. The playing in support is supple, divine, and ego-less; musicians playing in support of the singer and the song. Sometimes (as on Last Night) the groove and feel and flow of the song is shifted, due to their not being a drummer, other times, as on the opening brace of Baghon Main and Suroor, the mood is largely similar to the album counterparts — Aftab’s voice moves through the venue to reach everyone. It’s like Hindustani classical music meets world-inflected jazz and dark indie pop, and there’s something about the subtle sway of the music and the absolute conviction and clarity of the vocal delivery that is reminscent of Dead Can Dance. And there’s certainly some comparison to be made between Aftab as a calm and cool presence, and the style of her singing with that of Lisa Gerrard.
Her bandmates are sublime throughout, perhaps particularly Gyan Riley, son of legendary minimalist composer Terry Riley. Combining the sensitivity, sensibility, and in some cases the very sound of Dominic Miller, Bill Frisell, and Marc Ribot, the regular John Zorn collaborator was never in search of a spotlight for his solos, but always in search of new pathways for the song. It was exquisite. Klampanis played the upright bass percussively, even striking it to give drum accents, bowing it to issue deep cello effects, and all the while driving the evening’s material with a subtle, stirring groove.
In between songs, Aftab was funny, occasionally close to aloof, and nicely eccentric. But what mattered most was the music, which flowed from their souls, which touched ours with its mercurial gusts, which suggested whole new ways of conveying and communicating music; whole new ways of interpreting and appreciating art.
It was one of those gigs. You had to be there to truly know. If you know this artist and missed this show, you missed one for the ages. If you’re at all curious, get thee to the music immediately. Fingers crossed she will be back. For she said as much, promising a swift return time given the upcoming new album, and the fact that the ice has been broken.
What a perfect night of music. One of those concerts where you feel lucky to be in attendance, lucky to be alive, blessed by the music, thrilled by the abilities of all on stage, and safe from anything else in this world for the hour of musical comforts, that hour of complete skill, tenderness, and grace.
