In a globalised world, the word exotic has become increasingly loaded. What’s exotic to you may not be remotely exotic to someone on the other side of the world, and the whiff of orientalism and even primitivism is never far away. Nevertheless, 3, by Saagara, is exotic in its fusion of disparate elements: the occidental electronica of Polish musician Wacław Zimpel and the Carnatic musical tradition of his four southern Indian collaborators. On their third album together – as it was with the previous two – the ancient and divine sit with the relatively modern and broadly secular. It makes for a wonderfully alien patchwork of sounds where the rich colours bleed into each other to create something vivid and unique.
‘God of Bangalore’ begins with blocky synths and swathes of atmospheric keys underneath that are then swept up in the metronomic ghatam from the hand of Giridhar Udupa and the accompanying khanjira from Aggu Baba, before Mysore N. Karthik’s serpentine violin takes us to some welcoming, unfamiliar place. ‘Sunbeam Spirits’ is an intriguing brew of seemingly reversing and clipping electronic sounds, and K. Raja’s booming, bassy thavil drum, a percussive narrative that becomes more spirited and wild as it unfolds, crescendoing with a spectacular breakdown. The artists in question were apparently inspired in this project by the proto-Fourth World album Shakti with John McLaughlin from 1976, although ‘The Rite Of Rain’ is how you might imagine Cluster would have sounded had they hooked up with Zakir Hussain.
As recondite as it is, Wacław Zimpel’s musical adventurism is a modern day sonic wonder of the world, a strange career to be savoured and an antidote to so much disappointment. An inveterate collaborator, the Pole has worked with some of the dance underground’s most interesting figures of late, including Border Community’s James Holden and the mutant dubstep outlier Sam Shackleton. Having stated that he sees himself more as a producer than a musician these days, he nevertheless likes to bust out the saxophone now and again. Perhaps the strangest aspect of this is the fact that Zimpel doesn’t play the saxophone how you might expect him to. On ‘Where Is That Blossom’, where you might anticipate him trying to blend in with the raagam and the thaalam, he treats us to a full force break that wouldn’t sound out of place in an eighties Joel Schumacher movie. Answering Karthik’s violin improvisations, its incongruity – layered over spiritually nourishing rhythmic drone music – makes it all the more delightful. And who knows, it might even sound exotic in southern India.
