In this day and age of lockdowns and social distancing, art has come to our rescue. While we reorient our lives to staying inside and stepping out only when absolutely necessary, our artists are trying to make the most of the lockdown as well.

Most of them have jumped on the bandwagon of doing those endless Instagram and/or Facebook live sessions that are a hit or a miss — mostly a miss, very few of them have gotten it right, but more on that in a later article. Nearly three weeks in (at least in Sindh) and even that seems to have died down, thankfully.

And then there are a chosen few who decided that the best way to pass this time was to put their heads down and work on releasing new music.

Karakoram is one such band. Through their social media, the band announced they’ve decided to use this ‘down time’ to work on their first studio album. “[These are] dark times indeed,” the band wrote on their YouTube channel. “However, our itch to create got the better of us and, although we can’t really reveal what we’ve actually been working on so hard for you all, we can give you a small gift in these dark times.

While some artists are focusing on going live on their social media feeds, Karakoram went back into the studio and came out with Fanaa. But is it any good?

Fanaa [Annihilation] rings true in today’s day and age. [It] reminds us how fragile life is and how easily it can be turned on its head with no reprieve. We hope this song brings you solace in these testing times.”

It’s off to a promising start. Fanaa is a stripped-down-to-its-essence alternative rock ballad which starts off so beautifully it makes your heart hurt. But as the song progresses you realise that’s… all there is to it. The high point of the song is the start and then it continues on and becomes typical until it finds itself again towards the end.

Lyrically, it’s very Karakoram. Every artist, band, act, songwriter has a certain style, certain words, phrases and subjects they’re fond of using to a point where, at best, it becomes their signature and, at worst, they become predictable.

For example, if you get a random assortment of words and had to guess what band, you’d be able to tell which is from a Noori song vs a Zeb and Haniya song. Noori songs have a lot of “Tann [body], mann [heart], dolay [to sway], nahin [No, but pronounced naahin], haaray [lose] etc.” in them. Zeb and Haniya songs are usually written in very simple, easy-to-follow Urdu and focus on the various aspects of a ‘silent intimacy’ lovers enjoy between each other. At times the stanzas may have as little as two words per line (but which follow a perfect rhythm) before expanding into a bridge and chorus.

The same way, Fanaa is very typically Karakoram. There is a focus on an inner restlessness, a desire to find yourself or your ‘hidden truth’. Words and phrases such as “Chalna [walking], raasta [route/ journey], andheri raahein [darkened paths], faaslay [distances], chhupa [hidden]” etc permeate the song. It’s a little underwhelming because it’s telling us a story we’ve heard from Karakoram several times before.

The band needs to go back into the studio and rethink this. Fanaa has a beautiful start and end, it’s somewhere in between where the band seems to have lost the plot. Mostly because it feels like, once they’re past the halfway point of the song (somewhere around 3.17) they’re just jamming in the studio as if they’re still trying to figure the whole song out. It doesn’t sound like they’re there yet.

It’s not a strong follow up to their last song, Raasta, but I haven’t lost faith in Karakoram yet. They have a very strong repertoire of music to their credit. Fanaa is just the ‘B side’ of this [upcoming] album.

Published in Dawn, ICON, April 12th, 2020