Nitin Sawhney - London Undersound

by Karmel Mandrick

Hopefully not the sound of the underground

"A relatively enjoyable - if slightly beige - experience until the realisation hits you that you’re nodding along to cliché-heavy maxims without coherence or depth."

King of the 'feat's, Nitin Sawhney is in his element for London Undersound in an altogether collaborative affair. This is a semi-blessing for Sawhney who can only take an estimated 60 per cent of the blame for this creatively infirm and misguided LP.

Influenced by post-7/7 events, Sawhney and his cohorts delineate disengagement and wag a finger at corrupt politics whilst promoting a message of hope and peace to reflect the "changed heart of London". The sum of its parts is saccharine and ineffectual fodder. Starting off on the right foot, opener 'Days Of Fire' is a raw sonnet. Visceral in both content and execution, a rapping Natty outlines his experiences during the 7/7 bombings and Jean Charles de Menezes with brazen conviction.

Good work soon undone. Never before has a song so neatly personified the feeling of a cringe as the irksome Paul McCartney offering, 'Ghost Image (Interlude)'/'My Soul'. Pull any random line from this preachfest and you've got 20 minutes of flinching right at your disposal. Gems like, "My soul, your heart, two worlds apart / This life is all we have" is given greater pretentious and holier-than-thou gravitas only McCartney could convey.

'Bring It Home' featuring Imogen Heap is a pacey number, running on cyclical drums and Heap's trademark whispered electronica tones. A relatively enjoyable - if slightly beige - experience until the realisation hits you that you’re nodding along to cliché-heavy maxims without coherence or depth. Repeatedly: "We're in this together / Equal and the same / Anything's possible" launches an uninfectious enthusiasm continued (with less zeal) throughout the rest of Sawhney 's diatribe.

Following partnerships, showcasing Roxanne Tataei on 'Distant Dreams' and Tina Grace on 'Transmission' are less grating but no less lacklustre. Sawhney's melting pot compositions are not enough distract from derivative and schmaltzy content while any thread of momentum is steadily lost to a haze of windpipes and violas resulting one narcolepsy incurring event. If this is London's Undersound, then it's very well hidden.
Burte said on October 27th 2008 [report abuse]

i realyy like his songs and every night i will dreamed his song and india.... so let's lissten this album feel the burning...

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