WHEN a major Pakistani singer wants a musical explosion on stage, then dynamite drummer Kami Paul is called upon to deliver an incendiary performance filled with fire.
Having played live with the biggest names in Pakistani music, he did exactly that with Ali Azmat at a London show in May and delivered an unforgettable performance. The master musician has balanced big international concerts with appearances on popular music shows like Coke Studio and being part of brilliant band Noori.
Eastern Eye caught up with the Pakistani music hero to discuss his hard-hitting music journey.
What first connected you to music and drums?
At the age of seven, I discovered rhythm in everything around me. Music coursed through my veins from the earliest days of my existence thanks to my father, a talented singer in his own right. My upbringing was steeped in melodic enchantment. I still remember my father telling me, “Kami, you are destined to be a drummer.” In that instant, I knew deep within my soul that I was born to command the drums and ignite pulsating rhythms that would echo throughout the world.
What do you think has been your most memorable musical moment?
Undoubtedly, the pinnacle of my musical journey was the unforgettable moment when the conception of my brainchild, Mughal-e-Funk, took shape. It marked a ground-breaking innovation - a fusion of musical genres that captured the very spirit of the illustrious Mughal era.
Tell us more about that?
The birth of Mughal-e-Funk was a transformative revelation, and realisation that melded the opulent grandeur of the Mughal empire with the rhythms of funk music. This defining moment in my musical journey solidified my passion for innovation and affirmed my belief in the transformative power of music. Mughal-e-Funk stands as a testament to the boundless possibilities that arise when diverse influences merge and create something truly extraordinary.
What has been your most memorable performance so far?
An unforgettable performance of my career was in 2013 when I toured with Pakistani singer Shehzad Roy. Little did I know that this tour would lead me to a stage shared with some of my childhood idols: the incomparable Macy Gray, the iconic Slash, and the phenomenal Matt Sorum. It was a surreal dream transformed into reality - an extraordinary privilege that left me awe-inspired.
How much does the energy of the crowd affect your performance?
Whenever I am behind the drum kit I transcend into my own world. I feel like I become the source of energy for the crowd to feel electrified, and I lead them with my rhythm.
Do you ever get nervous before going on stage?
When I was starting out, I used to get nervous but now that nervousness has converted into excitement. I now look forward to going on stage to perform.
What are your thoughts on the London show with Ali Azmat?
Embarking on my journey with Ali Azmat and joining forces with the Rock On Team was a thrilling odyssey. Stepping foot onto the grand stage of the O2 Arena was a surreal amalgamation of nerves and excitement. The atmosphere pulsed with an undeniable energy. The camaraderie within the Rock On Team fostered an environment of professionalism and artistic excellence, creating the perfect backdrop for our collective creative expression.
Could you tell us more about your London experience on stage…
The warm hospitality extended by the Londoners added to the experience. Their appreciation for music inspired us to deliver an unforgettable performance. I felt the universal language of music and profound impact it has on people from all walks of life.
Who is your music hero?
I have been an ardent listener of Dennis Chambers, both in the past and to this day. The sheer musicality he exhibits is nothing short of extraordinary. It is as if his drums become an extension of his very being, producing melodies that resonate as if he were singing through them. The fluidity of his movements on the drum kit creates an intimate connection, as if he and the drums are in perfect harmony, operating as one unified entity.
Who would you love to collaborate with?
I am truly enthralled by the prospect of collaborating with the Pakistani rap act Young Stunners. Their unwavering passion for music, remarkable musicality, and exceptional music production resonates with me in a profound way, so to speak. I would love to play with them on stage.
What music dominates your own playlist?
These days it’s Afro-funk, Latin, modern jazz, and gospel music.
Do you think drummers get enough credit, though it’s probably the most popular instrument?
In Pakistan, the role of the drummer is widely regarded as integral and defining in a live performance. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have had the opportunity to perform alongside esteemed bands such as Junoon, Noori, and various other renowned artists. These experiences have not only honed my skills but also garnered recognition for my prowess as a drummer.
If you could master a new instrument, which would it be?
Definitely the tabla.
You are a versatile musician, but what is your favourite genre as a drummer?
It’s got to be funk, Latin and jazz.
Why do you love music?
Music defines me.
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5