Mizzed
-
Mizraab’s Maazi,
Haal Mustaqbil -
**1/2
stars
-
What promised to be a metal masterpiece is something significantly lesser -
It says something about an album that its
distributor releases it without knowledge of the band. Or
without much fanfare and after sitting on it for quite a while. Or after being prompted publicly in articles to release it.
Precisely what it says about the album however is open to question. Given that Mizraab is helmed by the prodigiously talented Faraz Anwar the album may well
have been a cult masterpiece. Khalid Sadaf the distributor however seemed to have been
apprehensive about the album’s prospects. His point of view seems to have been
that the album was not commercial enough. After having listened to the album
for a week now, I am unfortunately inclined to agree with Khalid
Sadaf. But for different reasons.
The album is uneven and barring some significant fireworks is not all that it
promised to be.
Let us talk about the good things first:
Faraz Anwar
the guitarist as expected shines. His tone, his technique, touch and feel, all
are pretty much spot on. On most occasions he, to his credit and unlike other
resident maestros on the scene, avoids the tendency to overplay. Lyrical and at
times jaw droppingly brilliant, this is a guitarplaying masterclass.
Musically, the highlights and life to the album is provided through the
guitars. In fact, so good is Faraz that it is almost
intimidating talking about the album:
Amongst the songs, the
strongest are two tracks already released: Insaan and
Izhaar. The former highlights the strengths of the
songs and the latter points out that Mizraab can
write punchy great punk singles if they really want to.
In terms of scope and
ambition too the album dares to think big (consider the grand title ‘Maazi, Haal Aur
Mustaqbil’) and much of the hype surrounding it
suggested that it was a serious minded album. And that it
indeed it is. Moreover, the band tries its hands at a number of various
styles of song and indeed Faraz attempts to sing in
various different voices. The positivity of Insaan (‘Insaan kay khwab ki
tabeer to insaan hi hai’ a true antidote to Allah bachai),
Izhaar, Mausee (‘Mayusee Gunah Hai’)
is certainly welcome to the uncertainty of Panchee
However, and then, in most
of these matter, this is precisely where the album falls flat.
Firstly, in its seriousmindedness it is also quite trite and not all that
elegant. Lyrically and thematically the album is quite immature. Notwithstanding,
the positivity and the breadth of emotions attempted
by the album, there is the amateurish tinge of noori-like
philosophizing on most occasions. Mayoosi (curiously
spelt ‘Maucee’) Gunah Hai, resemble slogans like Suno
Kai Main Hoon Jawan, but
are even lesser than that. Horrible lines like ‘Himmat
kar, hasad na kar’ are so bad that they
possibly seem to have been read off the back of some passing trucks. The lyrics
lack focus and rarely talk about specifics. General trite metaphors of sehras, panchees abound. One just
would have hoped the band would have named names: the music here certainly
holds much more power than what the words convey.
While there is quite a bit of experimentation with
styles, the album appears in its wide array of styles still derivative of bands
apparently liked by Faraz Anwar.
A lot of the time can be spent with the album playing spot-the-influences and
more. Each songs seems to have been written a
particular mode of a band: there is a Pink Floyd song, there is a punk song (Izhar), there is a Soundgarden
song. In its effort to be different the band stumbles into possibly the worst
song on the album, the one song that is unintentionally hilarious:
The marriage of clapalong soul/gospel with eastern melodies in Kitnee Sadiyan is bold but goes
seriously awry just because Faraz’s weak falsetto
makes it sound like a joke. The contrast with the verse vocals of … The moment
he switches to the … it just sounds so Spinal Tappish
one just wonders if Faraz had his tongue firmly
planted in his cheek. One doesn’t know if he is mocking love songs or in the
earnest trying to sing one. I could describe it as a
falsetto-gospel-clapalong-70 Pakistani TV style song, but I would much rather
describe it otherwise, as an unintentional joke. And just shows that he might
have his head in the right place, but the rest of him is certainly not
there. Considering each of the musicians
acknowledged their wife on the album, this might just have been an earnest
attempt. For Faraz’s sake I hope and think he was
attempting a parody with the song because that is what it turns out. Funny. Quite possibly unintentionally.
The song doesn’t go anywhere. No crescendo. Just meanders and ends, a true example of the downside of cut-and-paste
songwriting with sequencers.
One can see what precisely Faraz
was trying to achieve. Only he does not seem to have the vocal chops to do so.
This album promised to be so much more lyrically
than what it turns out to be. There is an amateurish feel to a lot of what is
said and often there is a lack of elegance.
That is where EP’s Irtiqa for one was better. Better execution and more than
that the lyrical elegance was perfectly balanced. Here non-sequitors
like ‘’ abound and
The strongest song on the
album is possibly Izhar which is more punk than rock
and all the better for it. The drums however are
horribly produced and leave one wondering how Faraz
managed to get the crashes to sound so bad. It is clear that when he keeps it
short it is impressive. 3 and ˝ minutes of fun.
Contrast this with over 9 minutes long intro track.
A lot of what Mizraab does leaves one question
why they did it like that. For example the graphic cricket ball in the Izhar video rankles. It is nice to do something differently
but it has to have a point, a reason and has to contribute something. Could
they not have shown regular kids playing real cricket ?
The drumming on the album is
a letdown in that it sounds quite obviously sequenced. Moreover, drums suffer
from weak production, especially the cymbal crashes on Izhar.
Mayoosi gunah
hai/ Sans hai to zindagi rawan hai.. Faraz pepeats again and again. Possibly intended to be a mantra. Less
that and more irritating reptition. The song
otherwise is powerful. Contrast this with the multi layered meanings in lines
such as ‘Rabba merai haal da mehram
tu’ (Rabba – Mekaal Hassan Band) with ‘Shaam Hui / Ghar
Aa panchee’
(Panchee - Mizraab) are one
sees the difference and the weakness of the latter.
Just as the strongest thing
about the album is Faraz Anwar
(his guitars), the weakest link also turns out to be Faraz
with his singing. Metal has often been gifted with some truly great singers. Faraz in comparison is just a weak, a Mizrable
singer actually (pun intended). He tries his hand at a number of voices and
struggles with most. A fellow musician commented that the vocals on the album
are too dry (without reverb) and serve to highlight the shortcomings of the
singer ‘who in this case struggles to stay in key even.’ I would be inclined to
agree.
Jaaney Main so apes Pink Floyd
(Comfortably numb?) but goes into a Vai-esque solo
(if someone needs to be copied it David Gilmour).
The best songs on the album
are of course the album ending …. Like the best punk music it packs a punch and
does not overstay its welcome. The crashes are horribly produced but the
singing it Eddie Vedderesque and apt. The moody Panchi is quite great.
Weak
production.
The guitars are quite nice actually. The drums suffer quite a bit though and
for his type of music a live drum sound would certainly have been more welcome.
The packaging of the album
is adequate, an improvement for Sadaf,
but the distributors still skimps on keeping the booklet insubstantial. The
cover picture is artistic in the collage it presents but one can barely make
out the dove (Panchee) that is supposed mixed in
there. At least they made an effort to be artistic. A lyric sheet with Faraz’s tendency to slur would have been welcome. However,
the same is not provided.
This album is certainly the one album that most
people seem to like without actually listening to it. Most seem intimidated by Faraz’s technique. Unfortunately for this reviewer Faraz Anwar and co. by en large
fail to deliver with MHM. The problem lies in the weak vocals and lack of
polish in the lyrics. Frank Zappa mostly famously titled a collection of his
guitar works that seems apt here: Hey guitar boy, “Shut up and play yer guitar.”
(Mizraab
Official site can be checked out www.mizraab.com.
A useful upcoming fan site is www.mizraabianz.com
with nice active forum. ).