Comfort Food

Indo-Canadian singer Kiran Ahluwalia has flown somewhat under the radar in Europe, winning Songlines’ 2009 Best Newcomer award only after her fourth album. Her eighth album, Comfort Food, is further evidence of what we have been missing out on. The record supplies a confident fusion of the ghazal vocal tradition and Punjabi folk with everything from Saharan desert blues to jazz and protest rock. Despite the album’s title, Ahluwalia is unafraid to serve us challenging dishes. Many of the tracks mourn division, particularly in an India dominated by nationalist politics. ‘Tum Dekhoge’ is a setting of a poem by Hussain Haidry, which he wrote after heavy-handed policing of a 2019-20 protest advocating for Indian muslims. The piece builds from an isolated vocal, which is joined by a mournful acoustic guitar. The music’s bite deepens as the lyrical bitterness intensifies. ‘Hindustan will just be a word, which will be scared, cowardly hell,’ Ahluwalia sings (in Hindu-Urdu) as the piece erupts into a hectic guitar solo. On ‘Jaane Jahan’ Ahluwalia uses her own words to amplify Haidry’s as organ squeals and percussive fusillades communicate turmoil. She urges that ‘We’re part of one nation, bound by one wound.’ The arrangements convey a weariness with division that recalls the tradition of protest rock associated with North American counterculture in the late 1960s. ‘Tum Dekhoge’’s slow burning intensity has something in common with ‘For What It’s Worth’ by Buffalo Springfield, also written after police clashes with protestors. More comforting fare is offered by playful love song ‘Pancake’, which begins with a stuttering guitar riff similar to Panjabi MC’s global mega hit ‘Mundian to Bach Ke’. The piece fizzes with joy through rousing chord changes and a riotous organ solo. It is accompanied online by an appropriately life-affirming music video. The inspiration for the song is Ahluwalia’s partner Rez Abbasi, a noted jazz guitarist who appears on and produced Comfort Food. ‘Dil’ is another track that examines affairs of the heart, deploying a slinky shuffle propelled by fluttering accordion and driving drums. ‘I’m casting aside fear and shame. Let neighbours gossip,’ sings Ahluwalia as she resolves to discard the double standards governing female desire. ‘Dil’ shows how seemingly personal themes of love and desire are united with Comfort Food’s political and social commentary. For a woman to openly express desire transgresses cultural norms, which speaks to wider inequalities. Similarly, whether they would wish it or not, Indian-born Ahluwalia’s romance with Pakistani-born Abbasi makes a unifying statement that has political overtones. Ahluwalia has chosen to embrace and express these tensions on record, to moving effect.