Interview with Arieb Azhar
By Anjum Dawood Alden  

To say Arieb Azhar’s voice is melodious is a gross understatement of sorts.  His voice rises above the ordinary and takes one into the realm of sublime synchronicity where the pitch is always perfect and the singer and song essentially become one.  Nowhere is this more apparent than in his widely acclaimed Sufi song “Husn-e-Haqiqi” from his first album, “Wajj.”  One has to listen to this song only once to be drawn into its mesmerizing power and then one is entranced by it and cannot stop listening to it.   

Arieb Azhar was born in Rawalpindi and then spent most of his childhood in Karachi, Pakistan.  He came from a family of avid entertainers.  Both parents, Aslam and Nasreen Azhar were actors and Aslam Azhar was also a founding member of PTV (Pakistan Television), Radio Pakistan and a well known orator.  From a young age, Arieb Azhar was surrounded by talented musicians and entertainers, and quickly developed a love for music.  His singing voice was strong and distinctive and he was often given lead roles in school plays and musical concerts.  In his teens, he was drawn to songs that had strong political and social messages.  His craft as a singer only intensified in time as his life experiences enriched and deepened his voice.   

After spending thirteen years in Croatia, studying Indology and performing music, Azhar decided to return to Pakistan where he was drawn to Sufi music and released his first album, “Wajj” in 2006.  We were pleased to recently speak with him about his inspirations, goals and amazing musical talent.  

Q. So how exactly does a young man from Karachi, Pakistan end up in Croatia performing with an Irish band for many years and then back to Pakistan singing Sufi music?  Tell us about your journey.  How did you get to where you are today? 

A.  Am I from Karachi? I was born in Rawalpindi, grew up in Karachi, and am now based in Islamabad, though the city I spent the most years in is still Zagreb - Croatia! I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember, and, from an early age, I realized I’d inherited a strong voice and when I sang people paid attention. Since my parents were involved with the conception of Pakistan Television, a lot of folk and classical musicians used to perform at our house in Rawalpindi. One of my first memories is of the great folk singer Shaukat Ali singing “Saif ul Maluk” at a garden function and blessing me after the performance. I think I started developing a love for folk and people’s music from that age. 

Because of the political activism that my family was involved in during the dictatorial reign of General Zia-ul-Haq, I started searching for a purpose to my singing while still in my teens. Growing up in Karachi, I often sang songs of revolution and resistance at left-wing demonstrations and conventions. During this time I was also deeply inspired by the Chilean songwriter and musician Victor Jara and what his life stood for. 

After the ‘Great Disillusionment’ of the Pakistani Left in the late 80s, I went off to study and discover the world for myself. I had become friends with a couple of Croatian filmmakers who were making a documentary series on Pakistan, and they convinced me to come and study in Zagreb-Croatia, which was still part of Yugoslavia. They told me how Yugoslavia was the ideal compromise between Eastern and Western Europe and had the best of both worlds. This was true to some extent, at least in 1990 when I arrived in Zagreb, but just ten months later the civil war broke out, which lasted almost four years although the first two years were the most vicious for Croatia.  

During this time, the search for purpose in my life intensified and I started engaging with all sorts of groups and circles who claimed to have anything to do with spiritual knowledge or self-enlightenment. In my musical discoveries, I played on the streets, and then in pubs and bars and finally in concert halls with a number of different projects and bands. Of my thirteen years in Croatia, the last six were spent playing Irish music in a band called the Shamrock Rovers that was formed by a Croatian friend, myself, and a friend from Dublin who was a great flute and whistle player. I also started listening to the Qawali music of Pakistan with fresh ears and started reading up on Sufism. 

Although our band was evolving and gaining popularity, I found myself still searching for my own individual expression. The decision took a few years to crystallize, but finally I realized I had to return to my Indo-Pakistani roots to find meaning in my music. I had also been studying philosophy and Indology at University (which I never finished), and I wanted to rediscover Pakistan through my new perception of the world. 

As soon as I arrived back in Pakistan six and a half years ago, I was naturally drawn to those people who were themselves involved with creating a more hopeful and meaningful space around them. Instead of reading ‘about’ Sufism I started reading and eventually composing and performing poetry that was written by the so-called Sufi Saints themselves. I also realized that the essence of Sufi philosophy lies in growth, change and evolution. 

Even though it is flattering that people call me a ‘Sufi singer,’ I am not entirely comfortable with the title because I can’t claim to represent anything other than myself. I’m only trying to call it like I see it.  

Q. How have your experiences abroad helped shape your awareness about Pakistan and Pakistani music? 

A. Living abroad, I got a chance to observe myself outside of my social context and to observe Pakistani society without being in it. In my Indology studies I found out so much history of our land that is criminally omitted from history text books in Pakistan. I discovered that the beauty of Pakistan lies in its diversity of language, music, colors, beliefs, etc. The real flag of Pakistan, for me, should be made of patchwork. But the people running the state of Pakistan are afraid to accept and celebrate diversity.   And those who take shelter in religious bigotry are scared to discover the truth for themselves, because of their lack of faith. 

For me Pakistan is the land of the Indus civilization, the Vedas and Upanishads, yogis and faqirs, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Parsi-ism and much more. It is a land where the most wretched and the noblest of humanity live side by side, a land of criminals and saints!  It is also a land with an amazing variety of music of the soul.  

Q. Your vocal range is very wide.  How have you trained your voice?  

A. The best way of singing is to sing and sing and sing!  Most of my training has been informal by listening to and trying to imitate those who have inspired me.  My father, being a great orator and actor, was the first to draw my attention to my breath and use of the diaphragm. I also consider Mrs. Lobo from the Karachi Grammar School choir as one of my earliest teachers and inspirations.

While in Croatia,  I spent some time with an amazing opera teacher. He was 92 years old at the time and walked on crutches but had the voice of a dragon, and he could abuse like one as well!  Upon my return to Pakistan, I formally became a music disciple of Ustad Farid Nizami who is one the great sitar players of this country, but unfortunately did not spend too much time with him before he shifted to the US to teach. 

Something that people don’t realize about the voice is that one has to go through the scales like with any other musical instrument. But the soul comes through deeper understanding of humanity; of oneself. 

Q. Do your songs always have a political message or any kind of message that you are trying to get through?  How do you choose your songs? 

A. I don’t believe in preaching, but I do think it’s important for me to express how I see things.  If I come across some poetry that inspires me, whether old or new, or in Urdu or Punjabi, I try to compose it after internalizing it and try to do justice to its message. I am also trying to write more of my own stuff, but that’s a separate endeavor. The message, I feel, is one of a humane and enlightened way of living. This I equate not only with the message of Bhulleh Shah and the poets of the Sufi tradition, but also with Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, Fela Kuti and so many great musicians around the world. 

Q. Tell me about your first album Wajj.  How did it come to fruition?  

A. Before returning to Pakistan I thought I would come and take the music scene by storm!  Once I had arrived I realized that this land has internalized so much in its intense history that my experience is like a drop in the ocean.  I realized that, in order to make a difference in a place, one first has to be absorbed into it. Wajj was my first endeavor to externalize what I had been absorbing and it took about two years to be completed. It is now being re-released by a company in the UK as Wajj (Resonate) in which I have re-sung a few of the tracks, since I feel I have moved on since then. 

Q. Your recent Coke Studio performance was amazing.  What void do you feel Coke Studio is filling for the promotion of music in Pakistan? 

A. I have always felt that the folk music of this country is what truly represents the soul of this land as opposed to the meaningless pop music industry that is largely disconnected with the lives of ordinary people in Pakistan.  Coke Studio is a revolutionary project because it has realized the significance of fusing, packaging and promoting folk music in a more urban context. That’s why I’m looking forward to listening to this year’s Coke Studio project of which I was again a part of and which includes several of my favorite musicians of this country. 

Q.  How do you feel the youth of Pakistan perceives your music? 

A.  I feel the youth of Pakistan looks upon my music as a sort of new interpretation of the positive aspects of our tradition – ‘A new age malang’ I was termed in one article!  But I am also weary of this tag because often people don’t listen or try to understand the actual poetry that I’m singing, but simply swallow it as part of a great sacred tradition.  I hope to create some ripples with my next album, which is nearing completion, in which the poetry is slightly more provocative because it’s in the language of today. 

Q. Is being a professional musician in Pakistan a viable career or is it hard to make a living doing only music? 

A. Making a living through music is difficult anywhere in the world, but more so in Pakistan because of the lack of music venues in the country, not to mention the ban on alcohol. Folk musicians regularly perform in the shrines and local festivals, but urban musicians don’t get enough opportunity to play for their audiences. Most of the music events in the cities are corporate sponsored events where the music is secondary.  But though difficult, it is not impossible if one keeps at it long enough and genuinely enough.  

Q. You attended Karachi Grammar School which is considered to be an “elitist” school.  What differences in socio-economic backgrounds do you see with musicians in Pakistan? 

A. Pakistan is a deeply segregated society; men and women, urban and rural, rich and poor, Punjabi, Urdu Speaking, Sindhi, Pashtun, Shia and Sunni (not to mention Wahabi!), Ahmadis (who are considered heretics) and Agha-Khanis, and the disenfranchised minorities.  Karachi Grammar School was, on the whole, an ‘elitist’ school, except for a few exceptions amongst the teachers and students. Most Grammarians were not too interested in the life around their school walls and outside their air-conditioned cars and houses. I was fortunate to be involved politically at a time when the anti-fascist movement was charged up and organized, so I felt more connected outside the school walls. But KGS also offered a sound overall education, which was more than most schools could offer at the time. 

In Pakistan we have a tradition of the family musicians or Gharana musicians who have been nurturing music for generations. They are also called Meeraasi-s (The inheritors), which has inexplicably become a derogatory word in society! These are the musicians who carry on the classical tradition and the younger ones play sessions for most of the pop artists in the industry. Yet these musicians are still horribly underpaid because they belong to the lower middle strata of society and don’t speak English. Because of this state of events several of them have become very bitter and are not always easy to work with!  I suppose I am of the Ataayi-s (those who have attained themselves) as opposed to the Meeraasi-s, but it’s only when innovation and tradition go side by side that things move forward.

Q. What musicians inspire you?  Do you know of any up and coming musicians who are very talented but have not found their way to the media yet? 

A. My major inspirations from Pakistan have been Pathaney Khan, Abida Parveen, Tufayl Niazi, Saain Jumman, Sabri Qawaal, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Razziuddin Qawaal and so many others... and internationally Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, Aretha Franklin, Muddy Waters, Christy Moore, Fela Kuti, Salif Keita, Tinariwen, Saban Bajramovic, Johnny Stulic and scores of others... In Pakistan there are many folk musicians who have been ignored by the mainstream media and who can create wonders if promoted properly, though I don’t know how ‘up and coming’ they are. I also think that instrumentalists are widely ignored in the mainstream media of Pakistan.  

Q. What advice do you have for other musicians trying to sell their albums in Pakistan? 

A. The important thing is to get the music out there amongst the people.  But there are only a handful of record labels that are willing to publish but without paying for a product unless it is sponsored, and the royalty system is in shambles. Therefore we need to find new models for the artists to get paid for their recordings. My advice at this stage for new musicians is: don’t expect to get paid for your album, get it out in the market and make a living through performances. Play and share the music with as large a number of people as possible off the beaten tracks.   

Q. What are the next steps in your musical career? 

A. I am finishing work on my next album, which should be out in a couple of months.  A producer from Croatia is also working on another album of mine, which should also be ready by June. My next steps are: to perform more in smaller places in Pakistan and also to come up with material, which is multi-lingual, which is who I am in the end. 

Thank you, Arieb, for your time.   

Anjum D. Alden would like to thank Abira Ashfaq, Sabina Holstein and Farheen Pasha for their help with this interview.