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To many Americans, Karachi,
Pakistan, is where journalist Daniel Pearl was murdered, where
a bomb exploded near the U.S. consulate last summer and where
sectarian violence runs amok.
But
it is also home to Junoon, the hottest rock band in South
Asia, a band that wants to show that its country is about
much more than religious fanaticism.
"Just
look at the elections and you can see the extreme religious
parties never got more than 5 percent of the vote," says
band leader Salman Ahmad in an interview before the recent
Pakistani parliamentary elections that yielded modest but
significant gains for religious parties. "Still, they
are a lethal minority of thugs whose role from the beginning
has been scaring people and terrorizing them."
In
the late 1980s, "I was performing A-Ha''s `Take On Me''
in a college talent show. These religious fanatics came in
and broke our instruments and the furniture," he remembers,
laughing. "They must have taken the lyrics literally.
And I thought it was the rockers who were supposed to destroy
instruments and furniture."
A
longtime rock fan who spent his teen years in New York (where
he saw Led Zeppelin at Madison Square Garden in 1975), Ahmad
is free with his words and displays a healthy sense of humor
despite the serious political and spiritual themes in his
anthemic rock that takes its inspiration from 12th Century
devotional poetry.
His
music, which he will bring to the Gateway Theater Friday,
is called Sufi rock, an unlikely blend of Western guitar rock
over South Asian rhythms and garnished with Sufi lyrics in
Urdu and Punjabi.
But
his latest songs have taken a surprising turn. On this tour
-- Junoon''s sixth of the U.S. -- Ahmad is reaching for a
larger audience with a handful of English-language songs,
including the anti-terrorism single "No More."
It''s
a risky move that some think could alienate the band''s South
Asian fans, but it''s a risk Ahmad is willing to take.
"We
will always sing in Urdu and Punjabi, but now I have a reason
to write in English: to reach out to the English-speaking
world who might have assumptions about Pakistanis," Ahmad
said during a phone call from New York, where he was visiting
former school buddies and recording new songs.
"A
lot of people may think that singing in English [the language
Ahmad starting writing songs in as a teen] is selling out.
But we did this gig in D.C. with the video of `No More'' and
we got a great response from a mostly South Asian audience."
Mom
wanted a doctor
Whatever
the language, the music of Junoon (which is Urdu for "passion")
is a tantalizing blend of genres that has sold 20 million
records worldwide, earning the band superstar status in Pakistan
and neighboring nuclear rival India.
But
when Ahmad decided to drop out of medical school in the early
''90s to pursue music, it seemed like a terrible idea.
"It
broke my mother''s heart," he says. "She wanted
me to be a doctor and didn''t see any future in music. And
back then there was really no rock scene in Pakistan. It was
mostly this easy listening synth pop."
But
with the soaring voice of lead singer Ali Azmat and the songwriting
and guitar work of Ahmad, the band took off almost immediately.
Their song "Jazb e Junoon" ("The Spirit of
Passion") was adopted as Pakistan''s official song for
the 1996 Cricket World Cup.
Their
honeymoon with the Pakistani establishment wouldn''t last
long, though. In late 1996, the band''s video for their single
"Ehtesaab" ("Accountability") featured
a polo pony dining at a luxury hotel and was widely viewed
as an indictment of the corruption among governmental elites,
specifically former Pakistani Prime Minster Benazir Bhutto.
The
song and video were swiftly banned from state TV.
"It
was a spoof but they took it so seriously," Ahmad says.
More
trouble was to come when Junoon was on a sold-out stadium
tour of India behind their No. 1 album ("Azadi")
in the middle of that country''s nuclear testing in 1998.
At
the time, Ahmad gave interviews, saying, "In a region
mired with poverty and destitution, with millions of starving
souls living in pitiful conditions, can we afford a nuclear
arms race?
"Would
it not be better for India and Pakistan to try to inspire
each other in the areas of education, health and economic
development? In Pakistan we don''t have clean water, health
or employment. How can we afford a nuclear bomb?"
Looking
back on the comments, Ahmad says, "It seemed like common
sense, but we couldn''t believe how angry people were about
those comments. It was mostly from the governments though,
because at our concert in Chandigarh [India] that night, the
fans were shouting, `We want cultural fusion, not nuclear
fusion.''"
The
Pakistani government didn''t agree. Then-Pakistani Prime Minister
Nawaz Sharif banned Junoon''s songs and videos from the Pakistani
airwaves.
"They
were supposed to be these democrats but Benazir and Sharif
were fascists in that they wouldn''t let people express themselves
freely," says a man whose outspokenness has earned him
censorship and death threats.
"That
is one thing I will say for [Pakistani President] Pervez Musharraf:
He knows that with the Internet and radio and satellite TV
you can''t control public opinion, so he has given us freedom
of the press and expression and you don''t see journalists
being thrown in jail all the time. That is one of the biggest
things that has changed."
Junoon
is the only Pakistani band that took part in Daniel Pearl
Music Day on Oct. 10. Worldwide concerts that day remembered
the Wall Street Journal reporter who was abducted and killed
in February by Islamic militants in Pakistan.
A
New York Times story credited a continued belief among Pakistanis
that Pearl was a spy.
"I
don''t think that is the case," Ahmad says.
"But
we were happy to perform. Judea Pearl [father of Daniel] asked
us and we feel for him, especially because this murder took
place in our back yard, in Karachi. Danny had been a big music
fan and had listened to `Parvaaz'' [Junoon''s 1999 release]
and so if I can do anything to ease his father''s pain and
participate in this day, I want to. What happened was totally
condemnable."
In
2001 Ahmad was named the UN goodwill ambassador on HIV/AIDS
for Pakistan, where he says, "prevention is the only
cure. People who make an average of $200 a year cannot afford
$15,000 a year for treatment."
A
familiar story
If
the story of a spiritual/political rock band emerging from
a land riven with sectarian violence sounds familiar, the
similarities haven''t been lost on Ahmad who has long been
a fan of U2 and even got a surprise from its leader last August
while checking his e-mail.
"I
was going through e-mail and deleting the usual spam like
`Check out J.Lo'' and `See Britney Spears'' and so when I
saw `Message from Bono,'' I almost deleted it," Ahmad
remembers. "I''m glad I didn''t because it was a nice
note" discussing Ahmad''s suggestion during a UN concert
last year for a concert that would feature musical icons from
all hemispheres.
Despite
the nuclear tensions and the continuing battle for Kashmir,
Ahmad says that Indians and Pakistanis can get along on a
people-to-people level and that Junoon''s Pakistani fans have
no problem with their success in India.
"Most
Pakistanis know that Bollywood is the Mecca of the South Asian
entertainment world," he says, "and so when they
see a Pakistani band going over there, that is a huge feather."
Amir
Khan, the Indian owner of Atlantic Video, one of Devon Avenue''s
biggest music outlets, says, "Indians and Pakistanis
both like the band, which is unusual for a Pakistani band.
Indians are slow-music lovers but if you ask anyone, they
all know and love Junoon''s song `Sayonee.'' "
Following
in the footsteps
With
their incorporation of Sufi philosophy and openness to the
West, Junoon is following in the footsteps of Pakistan''s
other big crossover success, the late qawwali master Nusrat
Fateh Ali Khan.
"He
is one of my biggest inspirations," says Ahmad, who played
with Khan. "He is the one who turned me on to qawwali
in 1991. The other thing that turned me on about him was that
he didn''t have this East-West thing. He collaborated with
Eddie Vedder and Peter Gabriel. He was like a child in his
enthusiasm, everything was, like, `Wow.'' "
Ahmad
has woven many elements of qawwali into his rock anthems,
likening the Sufi devotional music to the blues in its ability
to "make people lose their heads; it is about freedom
and complete abandonment."
But
do ancient Sufi poets have anything relevant to say to today''s
rock audiences?
"Absolutely,"
says Ahmad. "What Rumi or Punjabi poets like Baba Bullah
Shah sang about in the 12th Century is still important today:
harmony among mankind, tolerance, love and celebrating life.
You can''t get more universal than that."
Expect
to experience this sense of abandonment when the quintet brings
its show Friday to the Gateway.
Ahmad
says they always insist on having a dancing area right in
front of the stage where he says, "It gets pretty crazy,"
comparing a typical Junoon show to "going to a Rolling
Stones party where Led Zeppelin meets Ravi Shankar meets U2
and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan."
So,
are English-language songs Junoon''s future?
"You
never know," he says. "9/11 brought a huge paradigm
shift to my consciousness; it might be that I am coming back
full circle."
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