Sarathy Korwar: Kalak review – deft musical storytelling | Jazz

On his last album, 2019’s More Arriving, the US-born, Indian-raised drummer and producer Sarathy Korwar proved himself highly adept at thoughtful, engaging musical storytelling. Kalak is the London-based artist’s fourth full-length record as bandleader, and finds him less searing, more meditative than on its predecessor – but still every bit as vital.

Examining the double meaning of the Hindi and Urdu word “kal” (which is both “yesterday” and “tomorrow”), Kalak unfurls with questions such as: who gets to be remembered; how to do more than simply survive in the present; how to dream about the future? In a lesser artist’s hands the concept could border on didactic or cloying (and certainly, the spoken word elements on opener A Recipe to Cure Historical Amnesia feel skippable on repeat listens), but Korwar’s compositions here are irresistible.

Filtered through electronic artist Photay’s atmospheric production, there are undulating flute motifs that glow in and out of focus, wails of sax, waves of synth and of course the enticing, looping urgency of Korwar’s percussion, keeping time while pushing out beyond its confines on tracks such as That Clocks Don’t Tell But Make Time. A deft, warming album that grounds the listener while coaxing them to think bigger.

On his last album, 2019’s More Arriving, the US-born, Indian-raised drummer and producer Sarathy Korwar proved himself highly adept at thoughtful, engaging musical storytelling. Kalak is the London-based artist’s fourth full-length record as bandleader, and finds him less searing, more meditative than on its predecessor – but still every bit as vital.

Examining the double meaning of the Hindi and Urdu word “kal” (which is both “yesterday” and “tomorrow”), Kalak unfurls with questions such as: who gets to be remembered; how to do more than simply survive in the present; how to dream about the future? In a lesser artist’s hands the concept could border on didactic or cloying (and certainly, the spoken word elements on opener A Recipe to Cure Historical Amnesia feel skippable on repeat listens), but Korwar’s compositions here are irresistible.

Filtered through electronic artist Photay’s atmospheric production, there are undulating flute motifs that glow in and out of focus, wails of sax, waves of synth and of course the enticing, looping urgency of Korwar’s percussion, keeping time while pushing out beyond its confines on tracks such as That Clocks Don’t Tell But Make Time. A deft, warming album that grounds the listener while coaxing them to think bigger.