One of the co-directors of one of Pakistan’s most respected music festivals, Lahore Music Meet, former manager of the now broken-up Pakistani pop-rock outfit, Strings, and breakout star of Velo Sound Station (2020), music historian, singer-songwriter-producer — overall, a woman of many talents — Natasha Noorani teams up with Nadir Shahzad Khan (frontman for the Karachi-based popular indie rock outfit Sikandar Ka Mandar) on the acoustic treat that is Bojh.

At a time when all we hear around us, on the radio and streaming online, is electropop and its variations, mumbling song delivery and overly simplistic lyrics, we are gifted a song that harks back to a time when music was made via musicians actually playing each instrument, individually.

Nothing is programmed in, no beats are added electronically, all of the sounds are created through skill and muscle memory, the brain and body of one musician coming in sync together with other brains and bodies to collectively create a song that sounds like it was recorded live. Like, you are present while it’s being played. While listening to Bojh, close your eyes, and you are there.

There’s a funky riff that plays on loop on the rhythm guitar that gives the song an upbeat air, followed by the most subtle-but-omnipresent basslines, with an additional bass and/or lead playing a second barely audible riff now and then to support the music, depending on the stage of the song — so much audio sensory play here.

Natasha Noorani and Nadir Shehzad explore the darker side of love with Bojh

All goes silent for a second or two for effect each time Nadir or Natasha have to start their section of the song. At the chorus, they come together, Natasha providing the supporting vocals to Nadir singing:

Hasrat hai tu/ Mera saya hai tu/ Mujh ko chhorro nahin/ Mujh ko bhoolo nahin

[You’re my desire/ You’re my shadow/ Don’t leave me/ Don’t forget me]

The recurring verse in the song itself paints a picture of the angst of this ill-fated attachment:

Hum hain aadat se majboor/ Tasveeron mein hoon main/ Aur gaanon mein hai tu

[I am a slave of habit/ I’m in the pictures/ You’re in the songs]

A song about the anxieties, nay the bojh [burden] of love and attachment, written and performed as beautifully with the melancholic air of any Damien Rice song from his iconic and beautifully depressing O album.

Other than providing one half of the vocals, Nadir Shahzad writes and performs Bojh with Rahail Siddiqui on the drums. Additional guitars are by Ahsan Minhas and harmonies are by Natasha Noorani. It’s been mixed by Haniya Aslam, which explains why each sound in the song sounds distinctly beautiful. Bojh has been mastered by Justin Gray.

Natasha Noorani has been delivering one memorable song after another, each distinct and different from the other. She recently released her playful track Laiyan online which she also recently performed for Pitchfork. Carrying forward, she delivers another strong performance in Bojh, although this one is about the darker side of love. Listening to the song, there’s not much to be said, except bus maza aa gaya.

Published in Dawn, ICON, October 9th, 2022

Opinion

Editorial

More than words
Updated 04 Apr, 2025

More than words

Holistic development can only work when there is organic and credible political activity in the province.
Poor publicity
04 Apr, 2025

Poor publicity

FORTUNE does not seem to be favouring the PTI — at least not yet. With the party’s founder confined from public...
Party pooper
04 Apr, 2025

Party pooper

INDIA’s role of a spoilsport is tiresome. From pulling books from shelves, such as Wendy Doniger’s The Hindus: ...
Canal unrest
Updated 03 Apr, 2025

Canal unrest

With rising water scarcity in Indus system, it is crucial to move towards a consensus-driven policymaking process.
Iran-US tension
03 Apr, 2025

Iran-US tension

THE Trump administration’s threats aimed at Iran do not bode well for global peace, and unless Washington changes...
Flights to history
03 Apr, 2025

Flights to history

MOHENJODARO could have been the forgotten gold we desperately need. Instead, this 5,000-year-old well of antiquity ...