Shakti Shakti LP
Barcelona punk band with members of Indian heritage deliver a fucking killer debut record that captures post-colonial disillusionment so precisely that it sounds like a future rebel anthem. With Marathi-language vocals and Bollywood-influenced dancefloor rhythms, SHAKTI feels culturally rooted in India, while also existing as a seething punk band. It’s an incredible, invigorating balance—and the track “Lahan Pani,” with its spoken word intro detailing the exploitation of India by countries that repair the favor with blatant racism, is maybe the year’s best album opener. The bass riff is hooky, and the fury that follows is decimating. Locked-in bass/drums configurations that wouldn’t be out of place on a disco floor abound on this record, but it stays punk AF; not an easy feat. Songs like “Maut” and “Andolan” have a funk-anchored post-punk approach that crackles with found-sound samples, sounding like a walk past a dance club anchored by a wall of TVs displaying the same staticky news reporter. It’s a rich experience, and you owe it to yourself as a connoisseur of international punk to get this on your turntable fast.