In a wonderfully nostalgic track, Rija Yousuf looks back, not to her childhood, but even further, to a pre-natal state. She asks, 'where do I begin again?', and the answer seems to be there, safe in a mother's womb. Swaddled in reverb, Nomad withdraws from the world.
So I have no idea who this is, but there are lots of nice little touches here that suggest Slumber Bandit are a band(?) to look out for. There's something about this track that reminds me of French duo 'Air', especially 'La Femme D'Argent'. Maybe it's the electronic blips dotted around, or the shuffling percussion.
First Impressions: T5 I get ‘interviewed’ at Durham Airport (fucking DURHAM airport) where a nice woman looks through my bags and says what's this? (hard drive) and what's this? (camera batteries) and have you ever been involved in tribal warfare? (no). I feel like a little schoolboy and I'm reminded of a time at school when the lunch lady asks
Every time I listen to Nazia Hassan I can’t help but think: how did my parents listen to this? Amma and Baba, who both listen to ghazals and qawwali, sometimes ask me to put some Nazia on in the car. The thought of them growing up with Disco Deewane as their college anthem is
What a start for Mooshymoo. The first EP to be released by the DIY label, this collection of 5 stunning tracks from Dalt Wisney, alter ego for Shehryar Hyatt, is one of the most interesting and layered additions to the Pakistani experimental scene, and remains so 9 years after its release. The EP begins, however,
I came across Slowspin, aka Zeerak Ahmed, after falling into a soundcloud hole, prompted by Tonje Thilesen's fantastic article in Pitchfork Magazine entitled Searching for an Underground Generation in Karachi, Pakistan. First was Rise, a steadfastly lo-fi track, with a generous glaze of vinyl crackle covering the whole thing. The repeated lyric is almost indecipherable — don’t… very far? go back
In an interview with The Quietus, Nawksh, the moniker for Karachi-based producer Danial Hyatt, says: “My music is a deep-dive into the most difficult, darkest parts of my psyche. There I attempt to befriend the monsters that lurk, and convince them to follow me back out, knowing they'll dissolve in the light of the Sun.”
Hi there! Mosiki is a music blog dedicated to indie and electronic music from Pakistan and Pakistani artists. We love all kind of music here though. We'll also be covering some culture, some art, some politics, all the good stuff. We're on social media
The Grief That Does Not Speak is an elegy that is both mournful and hopeful, a song that grieves over loss but looks past it too. Post-rock has always been a medium suited to expressing these kinds of conflicting emotions, and Abbas layers an optimistic guitar riff over backwards-effected strings, encapsulating the pain of grief,
'I need space', for Zahra Paracha, is a thinly disguised 'get the fuck away from me'. Beautifully sung by Aaishay Haque who brings just the right amount of 'idgaf', the warbled vocal effects swoop around like vultures over a deadpan bass beat. Towards the end, the track kicks off with a melodramatic boom, segueing into