It’s been six years since Bengaluru’s finest released ‘Kun’, their last album, but for once, there is zero need to make a big deal about it. Parvaaz fans are used to waiting, and Parvaaz themselves will not release something that isn’t as complete as it can be (which is what makes them one of the most polished bands in Indian indie.) Anyway, ‘Na Gul Na Gulistan’ is out now, and it’s worth the wait. Shocker.

The album has eight tracks and 37-ish minutes of music in total. One might expect plenty of commentary about the world today and so on and so forth, but this is not a band that feels compelled to write about every hot-button topic; as Khalid (Ahamed, vocalist) says, “It’s organic... what we feel generally in our lives. And if you're talking about lyrics, it doesn't have to go something is happening in the world right now, so I'm going to write a song about it. These are personal experiences, and whatever is happening around the world, what we feel, the way we look at it, that's what more of the songwriting is all about.” Also, they are a, you know, band, so musical exploration is fundamental to them, and there is a lot of it going on here.

‘Na Gul Na Gulistan’ covers loads of ground sonically; something that ‘Kun’ in particular chose not to do. The songs on this new one draw from a lot more but still sound cohesive, mostly because it’s the same four guys writing everything, of course. This is important to mention because one thing Parvaaz has always had is absolutely fantastic chemistry between its members, and this really shines through. So, the songs, then. ‘Hu’ is this atmospheric intro; the album’s sunrise, as it were. It’s oh-so lush and full of ambience, which all goes away right at the end to replaced by a solitary guitar playing the opening riff of ‘Talafi’. This song is a classic Parvaaz blues-y rock tune that has it all; awesome guitar tones, a solid groove and soaring vocals. “Talafi was almost like three years back, and we've been actually playing it live also. So that's the one song that's been seasoned well, and then we hit the studio.”, Sachin (Banandur, drummer) informs. He’s right. The outro is especially fantastic. ‘Dogma’, by contrast, is more of a head-nodder. More meditative, more ‘progressive’ (if one could use that term) and less in-your-face. Some keys play a genuinely melodic role in the mix, which is a fun new wrinkle for the band. Khalid - “There's a lot of exploration that happened in terms of writing songs this time. It's like... use of a lot of synths and keys, not overshadowing the power of what we have, which is a four-piece rock and roll band.”

(by Mansi Mishra and Sachin Banandur)

‘Faani’ is a full-on left turn into the band’s folk-inspired side. They abandon the distorted stuff for twinkly acoustic guitars (and a slide) and sound completely at home in this setting. This is probably going to be the album’s main sing-along song because the earworm level is very, very high. ‘Kaua'i 'o'o' was the album’s single, and it’s maybe the standout on the album. It is here where the sheer amount of polish, time and effort in the studio can really be felt. This signifies another stylistic switch-up; say the band, “I think most of the songs in Kun were well-seasoned live, you know, we used to play them live for a long time and then we kind of did that in the studio. This time we kind of have figured out what to do in the (recorded) album, and now we are trying to convert that into a live context...You can start with an idea and write a song at, in your bedroom also. But, to go and record, I think it should be a proper studio. Because you feel that, you're paying from eight to ten or whatever, and you have to be there and, you know, nail it. And it feels- it's great, because everybody in that room is thinking of one thing.” This is an element that really pushes all the songs but specifically this one into being rewarding emotionally when the listener makes the effort to pay attention. Great melodies, great instrumentation, great everything- it’s just really good. ‘Zor-o-Zar’ is different once more; a proggy, psychedelic song even by Parvaaz standards (Karnivool fans will know what this means instantly) and yet another flavour of the rock sound done to a T.

‘Khwab Gah’ and ‘Na Gul Na Gulistan’ round out the album. The former is the most straightforward rock anthem the band’s written in ages (post-intro); turns out they can do that when they feel like it. The latter is a melancholic bookend that seems to want to give closure to the songs before while sounding determined to be hopeful in its closing moments. It provides a poetic way to tie it all together and re-contextualises the whole album on repeat listens. Khalid says here, “Well, I mean, glimmer of hope is, it's you. It's, I feel it's music. It's something just for a person to survive. Something still, because if hope is gone, then your purpose of doing anything is gone. And we should have hope, be hopeful about certain things in life, though the album talks about everything is gone. ‘He’ doesn't have trust even on judgment day. But you still need to have that hope. So if you also, if you hear that last part of the song has that- that's the upper voice that comes and tells him, hold on.”

Parvaaz represents an interesting archetype of band, and ‘Na Gul Na Gulistan’ is an interesting kind of album. It experiments some while retaining a rock-solid foundation; you are never going to think this album was made by anyone else. The musicianship is top-tier. Bharath (NK, guitar) and Fidel (D’Souza, bass) are in great form too. So... what’s wrong with it? We don’t really know, to be honest. It’s just one of those things that’s good on all fronts.

Go catch them live when you can, they’ll probably be touring the album soon.