Music
Back from the brink: The making of Prabh Deep's Class-Sikh
Uday Kapur, co-founder of Azadi Records, recounts the journey of releasing Delhi-based rapper Prabh Deep's critically acclaimed debut album Class-Sikh.
One evening in mid-October 2017, Prabh Deep is speaking to a small audience comprising journalists, friends and family about his debut album Class-Sikh, at a sneaker store in South Delhi. “This album almost didn’t come out,” he says. “Two months ago, I was ready to quit. Things were moving slow, and I was desperate — for money, for gigs, for direction — and I felt like my chance (as an artist) was slipping away. I called up Uday and told him I’m done — it’s over.”
Class-Sikh, which is out now on Azadi Records, a record label that I co-founded along with Mo Joshi, almost never saw the light of day. It struggled to find a home that could fulfil its and its creators' grand ambitions. On that call in August, I fought tooth and nail with Prabh to convince him to give me more time. “Two months,” I said. “Two months and if it’s not out or if I’m not convinced that it’s going to happen exactly the way we’ve envisioned, I’ll come and tell you. Then you can do whatever you want.”
I first came across Prabh’s music in 2015. I was working at Only Much Louder (OML), the Mumbai-based entertainment company, as an artist manager and I was responsible for building the company’s hip-hop roster. 'Mere Gully Mein', Divine and Naezy’s viral smash-hit, had opened the floodgates and ignited the Indian independent music industry’s interest in homegrown hip-hop. Sez aka Sajeel Kapoor, the prolific Delhi-based beatmaker behind 'Mere Gully Mein', 'Jungli Sher', 'Asal Hustle' and now Class-Sikh, linked me to a couple of B-sides that he’d recorded with Prabh.
Prabh bathes in the Delhi sunshine
© Raul Irani
Titled 'Kon Aa Mai' and 'Kon Hai Tu', the lo-fi singles emphasised Prabh’s vocal versatility, effortlessly oscillating between a guttural, menacing growl common to Delhi’s streets and a soulful, melodic texture found in Punjabi folk music. Such a range was hard to find within the fledgeling hip-hop scene. Combined with his ability to craft compelling, vivid narratives about his life in Tilak Nagar, Prabh was an artist that I felt had tremendous potential to deliver the kind of conscious, plot-driven hip-hop that I loved.
'Kal' - the first single off Class-Sikh — highlighted this skill. Released in August 2016, along with a video directed by Anubhav Singh, the song was driven by the narration of a singular event, spanning a few hours, in Prabh’s life. The way it was structured allowed the listener to connect with the issues facing the Tilak Nagar community on a larger scale. The dualistic narrative structure of 'Kal' and Prabh's delivery is akin to that of Kendrick Lamar’s 'The Art of Peer Pressure' from good kid m.A.A.d city — allowing listeners to deep-dive into the personal lives of the artist while also engaging with a broader theme.
Following the success of 'Kal', Prabh and Sez went into overdrive — they were churning out a new song almost every other week. Overall, they recorded around 35-40 demos for the album, only 11 of which made it to the final cut. 'G Maane', Class-Sikh’s second single, was due for release and the anticipation for the album, following a few scene-stealing live performances, was sky high. On the back of this hype, OML (which I’d left by this point) signed Prabh. 'G Maane', while well-received by critics and fans alike, failed to match Kal’s performance due to a lacklustre PR campaign behind it. Disillusioned by the lack of progress and commitment to the album, Prabh left OML in January 2017 — shelving its release until he could find the right home for it.
At the same time, while pursuing my masters in Denmark, the pieces to launch Azadi Records were falling into place. The idea behind starting a record label was one that was born out of frustration with the way in which the Indian independent music scene was mostly indifferent to the events shaping our society — we, as artists, journalists, promoters and audiences rarely engaged with the socio-political issues surrounding us.
The dominant narrative was limited to the experiences and outlooks of urban, upper-middle class Indians. The emergence of homegrown hip-hop artists from lower-income communities — rapping and writing in vernacular languages — challenged that status quo. There was also the emergence of artists from smaller cities — most of whom were often ignored due to the lack of a local scene or the complexity in getting them to perform in one of the four metropolitan hubs. With Azadi, we aimed to meet the needs of these artists and help them create art that critically engages with and serves as a comprehensive document of the society that we live in.
Prabh wrote about the troubled scene in one of Delhi's iconic areas
© Arsh Sayeed
Class-Sikh is the perfect embodiment of this philosophy. It’s a deep-dive into one of Delhi’s most troubled yet colourful communities — a detailed account of socio-political and economic circumstances that have shaped one of the city’s historic areas which you won’t be able to find in any mainstream media outlet. As a journalist, I was shocked to find that these stories — of unemployment, substance abuse and violence — went largely unreported. The fact that there was no initiative to tackle or even have a conversation about these issues taking place within the community itself was another revelation. With Class-Sikh, Prabh became one of the first voices within the community to publicly engage on issues considered taboo by his peers — tackling his demons while sharing revealing, personal stories of loss, regret and hope.
On 'Abu', Prabh delivers a gut-wrenching monologue that examines the life and death of a close friend — acting as a lead into 'Click Clack' — an introspective offering that explores the pitfalls of addiction. Album opener 'Suno' and early favourites 'Kal' and 'Kal (Future)' complete the frame — offering a window into the place and people that shaped Prabh as a person.
The second half of the album follows Prabh’s career, and is a personal highlight because of the way it tackles the music industry’s exploitative nature and lack of integrity. The three songs that form the major section of the narrative were written in response to a general lack of respect towards the artist, an expectation to work for free and a couple of diss tracks that were thrown his way. 'G Maane' opens with a skit that recreates an actual phone call between Prabh and a popular promoter — a ridiculous conversation that offers insight into the daily trials faced by an independent artist.
One of the driving factors behind us working with Prabh was the quality of the writing itself. The lyrics — whether you heard them with the music, as spoken word or read them on paper — are the life and blood of this record. The way the narrative drives through the structure — combining elements of iconic Punjabi poetry and hip-hop — has attracted fans from unexpected quarters, including my mum and grandfather.
Class-Sikh is an album that took 23 years to make — beginning with the events in November 1984. It’s a record that traces the journey of an entire community and the socio-economic, political and cultural circumstances that have come to shape it today. We wanted to tell this story responsibly, and in a way that didn’t compromise Prabh’s vision. This, of course, led to delays and built a level of frustration that threatened to boil over at times — threatening to sideline the project completely. Prabh left his heart and soul on this record, and his desire to achieve his grand ambitions often outpaces the protracted reality that we work in — leading to moments of crippling self doubt such as in the phone call mentioned above.
Since the album’s release, we’ve been inundated with messages of appreciation and support from all corners of the country. To see the album’s narrative connect with such a diverse audience is all that we could have hoped for, and we hope it managed to critically engage with the issues affecting your community and others.
Prabh Deep
© Arsh Sayeed