100: Beyond the Ragasphere, by Debashish Bhattacharya and Friends

Debashish Bhattacharya and Friends (India)
Beyond the Ragasphere (2013)
8 tracks, 62 minutes
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By 2013, Debashish Bhattacharya had built his reputation as a master of the slide guitar. He played it in the Hindustani classical style in a manner similar to the sarod or vina, and made many modifications to his instruments, adding sympathetic strings, and even created three of his own: the chaturangui with six playable strings (like a standard guitar), the gandharvi with six courses of two strings (like a 12-string guitar) and the little anandi, what has been called a slide ukulele. Over many albums, Bhattacharya showed his skills as a performer, both in traditional classical formats and also composing his own pieces. He had collaborated outside of the Indian classical realm before – notably with Bob Brozman – but on Beyond the Ragasphere, he took it to completely the next level.

This is not a classical album by any stretch of the imagination, although he obviously brings those skills into play in the performance and composition. Instead, this album travels in all directions – there are pieces that are out-and-out jazz fusion, complete with synths and drum kits; others focus on similarities between Indian styles and Spanish flamenco; there are elements of country, Hawaiian and Western classical music too.

It’s the third track that is particularly stunning here. Entitled ‘A Mystical Morning,’ it’s a duo between Bhattacharya and British jazz fusion superstar guitarist John McLaughlin. By far the longest track on the album at 16 minutes, it’s laid out like a journey in itself. Starting with ambient sounds, bells and far-away Hindu chants, an alap slowly emerges, the two guitarists exploring the scales and allowing themes to emerge from their improvisations above an ethereal synth drone. After more than five minutes, the percussion kicks in – both tabla and drum kit – and the guitars (together with bass guitar from Mainak Nag Chowdbury) sketch out the basis of what’s to come. Then follows what is sort of half-way between a three-way jugalbandi and a series of jazz solos between the electric guitar, bass guitar and acoustic slide guitar. Each has their own feel, not only from their musicians’ respective improvising styles, but in the backing: McLaughlin’s solo is urgent, with synth bass and programmed drums; Chowdbury’s is slower and more inward-looking, with jazz drum kit and slide guitar occasionally punctuating the runs; Bhattacharya’s turn brings the tabla back but keeps the bass going. The themes are restated and developed with all musicians together at the end, and the listener finishes their musical feast of many courses. What a fantastic track. It’s like a whole album in itself, the way it meanders through so many different styles and emotions while never sounding out-of-sorts and never making anything less than perfect sense.