Qasr

This layered debut explores issues of identity that arise when one’s ethnic heritage does not wholly align with one’s country of birth. In Sheherazaad’s case, her American upbringing is in conversation with her subcontinental heritage. The musical dialogue is engrossing in its intimacy.

‘Dhund Lo Mujhe’ is a demonic jig powered by sinister pizzicato strings. It seems to communicate turmoil and frustration in pursuit of belonging. ‘Koshish’ is a more playful tribute to a Californian upbringing, with surf guitar supplementing Sheherazaad’s sultry vocals, sounding at times like Lana Del Rey has undertaken Hindustani vocal training. Sheherazaad sought no shortcuts in finding an authentic voice to represent herself and the many who will identify with her. She stopped singing in English as a stand against its colonial legacy and reshaped her voice in the Hindustani tradition. She found an ally and producer in Arooj Aftab whose acclaimed Vulture Prince (A Top of the World album in #169) charts similar territory of dislocation and the diasporic experience. One comes away from Qasr – which translates from Urdu as ‘fortress’ – feeling Sheherazaad has exposed part of her soul.