Let’s face it, love ‘em or hate ‘em - and there are plenty on either side of the fence - Junoon is not what you would call a room-temperature band. Controversy has dogged their steps like a stalker and they have had their fair share of falls from grace. "There are lots of people who love to take potshots at us," says Shehryar Ahmad, the band manager who is also Salman’s brother. "With us being out of the country, there was a great opportunity for people to start rumours and we weren’t there to defend ourselves," assets the usually mild-mannered Brian O’Connell vociferously. "But we have been working our butts off for four years."

Now they are back in Pakistan with a vengeance: two concerts in Karachi with the cream of the young crop, a Basant concert in Lahore, an appearance on Indus Music, the release of their brand new video "No More", shooting of a video for "Garaj Baras" directed by the hotshot Jami and scores of recordings. The Junoon HQ with its multicoloured walls and band memorabilia is buzzing with activity. Somewhere Ali wails in the background, while Brian’s two daughters run amok in the small-flat-turned-office. Babysitting? "Just being a father," he grins.

The last 16 months - indeed, the last 13 years - have taken their toll on the band and their family. Since 2001, the group has a had a grueling time touring the US in order to drum up new business, or at least that is what cynics would say. Brian and self-styled band leader Salman have a different take. "Exploring markets has never been our goal," says Salman. "I quit medical schools 12 years ago to start a band and it did not make financial sense. We didn’t know where the music would take us because music has this magical, mystical quality. Going to America was just meant to be." Though Brian agrees that their music has been about "building cultural bridges", he says that going international has been his road map since 1992. "Junoon has never been about the money. I took a 90 percent pay cut to come to Pakistan. Having said that, to completely discard the monetary value of our work would be pretentious."

Shehryar, who left a very lucrative Wall Street job to throw in his lot with the gang, believes that the band was beginning to feel frustrated by being a big fish in a small pond. "What happens in a small is that there are a lot of egos and we have to steer ourselves and look for the higher ground. And with Brian being an American and Salman having spent time in the States, we thought that to be at the top of your career in music you have to go beyond Pakistan." But the voice of Junoon, sporting a new look and new-found mellowness, sounds just a little world-weary. "Sure, we have hopes of international success," says Ali. "We live in a very racist world. You invite a record executive to a concert and they say: [in a mock American accent] ‘A Pakistani band...they’re good but isn’t Pakistan where people ride camels and mullahs kill each other in mosques? We got that from a lot of people. First of all, we have that to fight against even though our music is good and there is a market of a million people."

Still, Ali need not sound quite so despondent: Junoon is in the middle of negotiating a record deal with EMI England and plans to release and English-language album following the Urdu-language release on May 31. And that is not the only territory on which the Junoonis differ. While Salman and Brian wax lyrical about "civilizational conflicts" and fostering an understanding between the East and the West through their concerts in the US, moody Ali couldn’t wait to get away from it all. "I have been to hell and back," he says. "I was just sick of living in hotel rooms."

Meanwhile, lyrical differences have also reared their ugly head from time to time. Ali attributes the poor performance of Junoon’s last two albums Parvaaz and Ishq to sticking to the formula that had made Azadi such a phenomenal success. "I think we should have changed the sound after Azadi. I didn’t want to do another "Jazba Junoon" or "Heeray", he says. They thought they had a formula and Salman Ahmad was stuck in that mode. "Jazba Junoon" was a great hit so let’s make "Zinda Dil Dosto" or "Zamanay Kay Andaaz" but it’s in the same vein, the same sort of anthemic crowd-puller. But that’s a formula, the formula being the tabla and dholak

"Now everybody has started to do it. I just heard a band called Y2k on Indus Music that sounds like Junoon." Salman, on the other hand, has no clear answers. Eager to break away from the Sufi-rock label that "clamped down on artistic growth", he thinks that "Sayonee" put undue pressure on them to deliver the goods subsequently even though "Parvaaz was a better album." Shehryar, however thinks that poor timing and the dilly-dallying of the Indian recording company owing to the Kargil crisis were the real reasons.

But what the trio agree on is enough to keep them rocking. "Junoon is resilient because we’re not in it for the easy buck", says Brian. "And I must tell you that things are pretty tight right now because we’re in between concerts but I’m not going to jump ship because I’ve come too far and I realize that we have too much to offer. Now it’s more of a responsibility." Indeed, they even agree on going their separate ways in a manner of speaking. After a Japan tour in 2000, Salman, Ali and Brian came to an understanding that they would give each other space to do their own thing. For example, Salman has been quite busy as a UN ambassador and presenter for a documentary on Pakistan by an American channel. "I realized that keeping three men together for 15 years is not good for your health," he laughs. "We may not socialize with each other much because we’re such different people - I’m a family person, Ali is the party animal and Brian works for Christian Missionary organizations in Pakistan - but we complement each other musically." For once Ali agrees. Sure, there might be the odd tussle but "as in a good marriage, you have to put your ego aside and compromise."

Furthermore, Junoon seems to have finally realized the Sufi-rock has simply been done to death. Critics have often accused the band of relying too heavily on past glories especially as they have lost the raw energy that was their calling card. "Look, music is just like having sex: there’s foreplay and then you get to the really passionate stuff", defends Salman. "When you’re in your 20’s, your hormones are going wild. So that’s when all the lead guitar solos come on "Talaash" and "Heeray". But then you grow into your manhood and you understand beauty and truth. There was a lot of self-discovery going through Inquilaab, Azadi and Parvaaz. Now we’ve gone through the crossroads and we’re meeting in the middle." The shift has meant no more tabla and dholak and an English song, "No More."

Of course, where there is Junoon, controversy - whether potential or real - cannot be far behind. Remember the fiasco that was their version of Allama Iqbal’s "Khudi"? Widely held to be discordant and distasteful, the older generation thought that singing the song was the metaphorical equivalent of dancing on Iqbal’s grave. Junoon countered the critics with the argument that they were encouraging the younger generation to understand and appreciate Iqbal’s poetry and message. And Salman remains undeterred. A song on their new album which will most likely fan further flames is a rendition of Ghalib’s couple: "Jab kay tujh bin koyee nahin maujood/phir yeh hungamaai Khuda kiya hai". What sounds even more ominous is that only is Salman singing it himself (Ali was rather tight-lipped about the song) but, as he says, "I’ve taken some liberties and dressed it up a little."

Some debate also has been generated concerning their latest song and video, "No More". Shot in New York City with echoes of 9/11, many have interpreted it as blatant cozying up to the American market. Junoon is categorical though: the song is against terrorism, war and violence. "Don’t label the song, poetry and music works on so many different levels", insists Salman. "For me the song connects the two worlds collided with each other and produced a fear of the other." Still, the question remains, why not a song for the civilian casualties of the Iraq war. Or would expressing such an opinion put their American dreams in jeopardy? "Not necessarily, because we have been welcomed for our ideology. Being over here, as the most popular American in the country and possibly the most targeted [he has been harassed by unknown lobbies] I feel I have to defend both sides", says Brian. "But it is not about taking sides. And you are also seeing a lot of anti-war, anti-violence sentiment in America."

Meanwhile, Ali has courted more controversy by donning a T-shirt with Jesus written on it in the song’s video. Unrepentant, cheeky lead singer retorts, "It was a five-dollar shirt that I really liked because it fitted me well." But on second thought - after all, this will go in print - he adds: "It was to show the world that Pakistanis are not intolerant. The maulvis will have problems. But I go to Sunday mass with Brian and pray with Hindu friends. I respect other beliefs. At the end of the day, weren’t the Sufis about bringing everybody together."

Nevertheless, whatever the detractors may say, "No More" has been received quite well. And at least the band has followed the Darwinian principle - evolve or die - unlike plenty of others who have fallen by the wayside in their own pool regurgitated mediocrity. "We don’t want to be stuck in a rut like we were in the Azadi mode", says Brian. "We want to take a new music while retaining the identity of Junoon and "No More" exemplified that. We were very surprised by the success of an English song in Pakistan." Indeed, Ali can be credited in part for this evolution. One of the songs on the new album that has generated quite an interest is "Garaj Baras", an energetic number with plenty of guitar. Written by Ali, the song’s popularity is a tribute to his songwriting skills.

In fact, his recordings for Junoon have interrupted a project that he has been nursing like an obsession or "fatoor" as he puts it. Having written nine songs for Junoon, the singer is turning songwriter and going solo. So not all rumours are true. A little nervous, he is careful not to reveal too much since he "wants the music to speak for itself." Salman, for his part, is relieved that Ali has finally taken his advice and channeled his energy and talent from partying and singing into songwriting (although Ali does reveal that the other two had not been too happy with his decision initially). "But I want to make it clear: I am not leaving the band", he says. "It’s because the process for making music with three people is different from a solo act. I had always wondered what my sound would be like as an individual artist and that came across in Garaj Baras." Other changes have been in the offing for the only Junooni with a rock star persona. Marriage is on the cards for Ali though he says he is too lazy to find the right woman.

Another rumour that grazed the truth was Salman’s alleged migration to the States in the near future, especially as he has been there with his family. "I’ve been married to a woman who has been supportive of my career and gave up her own as a doctor", he says. "This is the time that I have to pay back. She’s studying in the States and I will be flying back and forth." Having given so many years of his life to career that has been demanding and time consuming, Salman is trying to catch up on family time. "I haven’t been able to go on even one family vacation in the last 10 years, so I think there should be some balance in life, which I’m trying to strike by being in another continent," he says.

While Junoon may sometimes sound like contestants to a Miss World contest - spouting homilies on "world peace" - one has to give them credit for sheer perseverance. They have outlasted their peers, they have survived the rough and tumble of a musical career in Pakistan such as bans, flopped albums, rampant piracy and they are at least committed to social comment through music. You may disagree with their music, choice of lyrics or just dislike one or all of them but you simply can’t ignore them. Isn’t that what music is all about anyway?