Music sessions in private houses have become a popular feature of modern, grassroots music. But of course, it is nothing new; before the monetization and fame-seeking nature of contemporary music, it was always an art form made for simpler, purer reasons. To connect, to entertain, and to celebrate beautiful sound in an environment with no barrier between the players and those looking on. And if talk of such ‘house shows’ conjures images of an acoustic-wielding folk singer or solo violinist, AGAM proves that even such more intimate spaces can accommodate a more impressive and varied array of musicians.
‘The Ascension’ takes this to a wonderful extreme: a rock band augmented by strings and brass, traditional sounds riding a modern groove, classical deftness dancing closely with rock dexterity, timeless inspirations forging timely sounds. And it all feels even more powerful and poignant as you watch it unfold in real time.
Based on a 200-year-old composition itself rooted in an ancient prayer, AGAM takes this already emotive piece and makes it deeper, higher, more poignant, more powerful, more impressive, more…well, just more! Yet the original authenticity never gets lost in this fluid, fascinating piece. Rising from solitary vocals, it plays with delicate percussion and peripheral sonics before sensationally and suddenly embracing a punchy rock salvo. Yet as the strings soar and the guitar lines beguile, as trumpets stab and drums beat out complex patterns, you realize this is less an act of musical fusion than a summoning. The music was always there; you just need the right musical act to breathe life into it for new audiences.
As the recognizable sound of South Indian Carnatic music arrives in the form and force of cutting-edge progressive rock, the sounds of ancient Asia and Western rock clubs, intimate devotions and cinematic grandeur, delicacy and drive, reinvention and revelation, grace and groove, melody and muscle all shift and shape the song.
This is the sound of Eastern spice blending with the energies of the West, a sonic point where Occident and Orient meet and merge, and a reminder that rock music, especially in such a recognizable, culturally rich form, is not the preserve of the West. Anything but. It is also very much a human story, reminding us that there are times when we feel alone and overburdened, broken and dejected. But we are not alone; we never have been, a point only reinforced by such a message being played out to a room full of joy and connection.
The tricky term world music is often bandied about around this kind of music, but even that is too parochial for what we have here; I would say it is global, perhaps even universal, music. Not only music that embraces countries, continents, creeds, and cultures, but also incorporates past and present, the physical and intangible, the comprehensible and the unknown, and gets to the heart of what it means to be human and, in doing so, helps shape the sound of the future.
