Beyond his aesthetic, Lifafa, the musical alter ego of Suryakant Sawhney remains a seeker, yet to unearth the secrets of self-care and unwinding. The process of unlearning and relearning, initiated during his animation studies, continues to be a pilgrimage of self-discovery. The trail to epiphany, hindered by the overwhelming embrace of music, leaves an ache for the passions left unexplored. As the artiste preps new tunes for his debut performance in Hyderabad after the pandemic, excitement brews for fresh sounds in the wild.
A childhood moment, where a young Suryakant stumbled upon a piano in a Hilton lobby, served as a prelude to his vigour. The applause became one of a heart awakened, setting the stage for a lifelong ensemble. Amidst the chatter of musical advice, a dichotomy surfaces: The worst advice warns against letting money sway the tunes, while the best advice echoes the same sentiment, disclosing the breakable dance between affection and profit. Now, divergent personas inhabit Suryakant’s creative space. As he straddles the realms of Lifafa and band, Peter Cat Recording Co, he recalls how the Netherlands — a turning point in his sojourn — charmed him with liberation from Western musical hegemony.
Excerpts from our conversation:
This is your first performance in Hyderabad ever since the pandemic. What can we expect? What are you looking forward to?
A few new songs to try out is something I always look forward to. It’s nice to see how they work in the wild. The rest is a continued refinement of the set I designed.
From Nikamma — your most popular song, Mann Ki Baat, Wahin Ka Wahin, Mere Saath and so on, how do you see yourself evolving in terms of your musical style and the themes that you may explore in the future?
I’m excited to explore more acoustic and strictly dance music under the Lifafa banner. These days, I’m enjoying swerving to beat-less music straight to an almost tribal dance sound. It’s an exhilarating shift, exploring the raw energy and primal essence of dance within my music.
What motivated your shift towards devotional songs within Lifafa, and how do you navigate creating music that carries a devotional essence without a strictly religious context?
It just seems to be a natural extension of the kind of person I am, I suppose. I enjoy the feeling of being in an environment like temples and churches for some reason. It’s as if these environments serve as a muse, evoking emotions and inspirations that align with my artistic endeavours. The ambience, the aura, or perhaps the collective spiritual energy within these places stirs something deep, lending me a sense of comfort and inspiration that finds its way into my expression.
As a songwriter, how does Lifafa allow you to express yourself in ways that might differ from your work with Peter Cat Recording Co?
Well, the language is the most obvious difference but I write songs for both as two different human beings, it’s a bit of a strange Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde situation. The contrast isn’t merely linguistic; it’s a complex interplay of emotions, inspirations, and storytelling approaches. Each musical persona emerges from disparate corners of my soul, entangling melodies and lyrics that resonate with divergent aspects of my being.
What’s the best and worst advice that you received when you first started? Worst advice — Don’t let money motivate your music. Best advice — Don’t let money motivate your music.
Throwing back to your debut, In Hi Ko, for which you went to the Netherlands after touring in Germany — how did the exposure to a vast array of global music differ from your previous exposure to predominantly American and British music? How did it impact your approach to music-making? Also, you lived with a record collector at that time — what did you learn from them?
It helps you exit the American/ Western music industry’s stranglehold on your sense of aesthetics, music appreciation, and the like. It was pivotal in helping me realise the direction I wanted to take as Lifafa. Edo, the collector, helped me to trust my taste and look for special sounds and ideas within a song to appreciate.
According to you, which instruments are going to be the sound of the future?
A piano will never go out of style. It has the rare ability to be as nostalgic and futuristic, depending on how you wield it. A midi tabla will radically change music. There’s a massive shift away from needing the ability to play an instrument with the growing library of samples and incoming AI, so it’ll be interesting to see if even common instruments go the way of the oboe or such instruments.
What’s something from your childhood — perhaps a memory or an experience — that you feel significantly influenced your passion?
I played the piano at some Hilton hotel for some audience as a kid, one of those in the lobby. People applauded, and it felt nice. Amidst the echoing applause, there was a warmth that spread through me, a sense of affirmation that my impromptu performance had touched a chord within those who listened. However brief, it left an unforgettable mark — an echo of encouragement, planting a seed of passion that would eventually blossom into a lifelong affair with music.
Who is Suryakant beyond his art? How do you unwind and look after yourself?
I still have not learned either.
You’ve travelled a great deal around the world, performing abroad more than in India as you don’t like the way Indians respond to music. With your Bharat Yatra tour, do you hope that this will change?
That’s something I said a long time ago, in a more moody phase. After travelling the world, I can safely say, India will forever be one of my favourite places to perform because I hate us but I love us as much.
Talk about your days while you were studying animation. How did you find your radical self? How was your unlearning and re-learning process to become the person you are now?
I never learned anything professionally, it’s been mostly the internet teaching me. I’d say becoming a musician ended up limiting me a bit as well, unfortunately. I wanted to do so many more things but music takes much of your time. Anyway, I’d like to reclaim that from music. There’s an ache to rediscover the freedom to explore diverse passions that once held appeal before music’s grip took hold. There’s a longing to reclaim lost territories, to rekindle the flames of curiosity that were momentarily dimmed by the all-consuming pursuit of music. It’s a hope to embrace a broader spectrum of interests, to re-engage with pursuits left dormant, and to rediscover the joys that lie beyond the confines of the musical world.
Tickets at `999 and upwards. December 24. 8.30 pm onwards. At Artistry, Kondapur. — chokita@newindianexpress.com @PaulChokita