‘There is no language of freedom, People have been exploited, There is no hope for justice, Rights have been suppressed, Oppression, oppression, We will fight’ (Atyachar / Atrocity)

Shatki hail from Barcelona and this is their self-titled debut album.  They feature members of Belgrado, including Patrycja Proniewska dusting off the drum sticks she yielded to such effect with her first band Sect.  Yet those place markers are in many ways misleading.  Shakti, which speaks to the Hindu concept of the cosmic power that gives life to the universe, is a project that is very much driven by the Indian heritage of vocalist Nirzar.

Bouncing bass lines and punchily limber drums unfurl a rhythmic base that gets even the most reluctant of feet urgently moving, while the guitar follows its own tautly writhing path.  Well-judged samples are intertwined throughout and set the scene for the strident, combative Marathi vocals.  Rhythmic snarls, boisterous chants, and ominous whispers are woven together with an irrepressible energy.  Personal stand outs include the frenetic agitations of Lahan Pani (Small Water), the pulsing exhortations of Matala (To The Opinion), the darkly infectious Andolan (Agitation), and the raucous finale of Purvichi Adchan (The Previous Problem)

The album maps out a sarcasm laced lyrical exploration of what it is to be a member of the South Asian diaspora.  It questions why after such a long period so many western societies still struggle to culturally accept these communities and the legacies of the colonial dismemberment of India itself.  But amid the dark humour, the analysis is cognisant of the complexities that further shroud these issues, not least the rise of Modi’s right-wing Hindu nationalism.  The determination of power and wealth to preserve its privilege is, perhaps, the one universal, immutable constant.