Healing Hands

Musical pioneer Nitin Sawhney releases his latest album Philtre, meaning ‘magic potion’ or ‘healing’, on the 2 May. uk-fusion caught up with him to chat about comedy, gigging, and a little bit of politics

Victor Duplaix is someone I was checking out when I was Djing over in the States. My manager contacted him to say I’d like to get in touch. To my surprise, he travelled over from Philadelphia where he’s based. It came as another shock when he revealed he’d listened to my stuff as much as I had his. His vocals are incredibly harmonious. 

Reena Bhardwaj is a singer from London who went over to India and sang Bollywood songs and became number one in the Indian charts for two months. She’s still young and upcoming. I have lots of respect for Reena.
Your mother, Saroj Sawhney, makes an appearance as well.
She reads a poem, which she wrote. My mum was an English teacher so she writes a lot. It’s on ‘Rag Doll’ and serves as a great metaphor for the album as a whole.
You’re always described as a multi-instrumentalist. What instruments can you play?
Sitar, piano, both jazz and classical, bass, drums, tabla and guitar. For some reason when I was younger, I also learned how to play the French horn but I haven’t picked one up in a while.
Yet you don't like to sing.
I hate singing, although I can sing. For example, I sing to singers to show what I want them to do. I just don’t like the sound of my own voice.
What have you got about the ‘world music’ tag?
It marginalises. Also, it simplifies things. It’s like you’ve got the West and the world. This is xenophobia. Nevertheless, I’ve got a tremendous amount of respect for what Peter Gabriel’s done with Real World as well as what WOMAD continue to contribute. ‘World music’, though, is just a label. A tag. You walk into a record shop and find a few artists from Africa and the Indian sub-continent, say. stuck in a tiny little category. It’s musical apartheid.
What then would be your retort to Ian Anderson, editor of fRoots magazine, who said: “Nitin Sawhney is a middle-class British muso, and so he wants to be in a box with the rest of the middle-class British musos”?
I read that article in The Guardian and thought it was funny. It was a panel discussion and the members of the panel were as white and middle class as you could get. My mum and dad came over from India and struggled. Anderson’s way of thinking is so colonialist. They claim to have helped these musicians. It’s so patronising. I thought to myself, 'Oh, piss off, who the fuck do you think you are?' They were talking about great artists, the likes of Baba Maal, and the notion that they should feel privileged to have been categorised as world music is a ridiculous one. These people don’t know me. They don’t know what musical training I’ve had.
Fair enough. How about Brasian as an adjective?
Music should be about music. Where people use language from outside, it can create prejudice. Music is open. You can have people from different backgrounds. You go to another country and you try to speak to some people. You’ll have language problems. But with music you can jam. It flows. You can have real dialogue. Terms like 'Brasian' display a lack of imagination and a lack of understanding. They’re contrived and open to manipulation by politicians. I get the impression people are desperately trying to categorise me along the lines of nationality.
Multiculturalism seems to be an unpopular term right now. The likes of Trevor Phillips have been denouncing it. What’s your take on it?
Well, personally I prefer pluralism. It refers to the interaction between cultures. Multiculturalism just means there are many cultures. Regarding Trevor Phillips, I find him an interesting character. I’m not sure he’s the best leader for the Commission for Racial Equality, for a start. He allied himself to what David Blunkett was saying about the need to foster a homogenous culture in the UK. It’s an affront to other nationalities. They’re saying, “We don’t want your individuality.” And assimilation? You’ve got to be assimilated? It sounds like something out of Star Trek.
How big a date in your diary is 5^th May?
For me, the run-up to the general election throws up all the usual bullshit. I look at Blair and see a smiley face. I look at Howard and see another smiley face. They’re both in it for a power trip. I don’t trust them. Do you? My dad’s got cancer and he has to queue for treatment. I don’t see my taxes going on helping out the NHS. Instead, it goes towards killing people in Iraq. But you won’t catch me abstaining from voting. To abstain is to play in the hands of the BNP and other extremists.
How did you get to meet Nelson Mandela?
When I was recording Prophesy, I was asked by my label, V2, who I’d most like to meet. I was limited to a choice of three. I told them Gandhi, Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela. With two of them are dead, Nelson was the only one left. So V2 set up a meeting. I’d literally just finished his autobiography, Long Walk To Freedom. Five minutes after reading the last page, I was standing in front of him in his house. I was lucky enough to enjoy a private audience with him for 40 minutes. It’s one of my proudest memories.
Your Secret Asians comedy duo with Sanjeev Bhaskar spawned Goodness Gracious Me. So, care to share a joke with us?
“A duck walks into a bar and approaches the barman. “Got any bread?” he asks. The bartender replies, “No, we don’t sell bread.” The duck leaves. Next day he returns. “Got any bread?” he asks again. The reply is the same from the barman, “No, we don’t sell bread.” The day after, the duck is back again. “Got any bread?” he enquires. The barman, now annoyed, answers, “No, and you if ask me that again, I’m going to nail your beak to the bar.” The duck says, “Got any nails?” The bartender, confused, answers: “No”. “Well, got any bread?” goes the duck.” Bit crap, isn’t it?
You are touring with a band throughout May. How does that compare to Djing?
I want to DJ during those dates as well.  It’s enjoyable creating a spontaneous physical reaction from people, getting them to dance. I like the idea of keeping people interested constantly. You’ve got to watch the crowd and determine which tracks work and which tracks don’t. I really enjoy that. With a live gig, you produce an electricity. You’re working with other musicians. It’s an incredible feeling. You’re part of a memorable event, something that’s never going to happen again.

Philtre

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