Punking The Public
Punk on Toast. Photo: Tanmay Juvekar
In their latest live release Grugs Are Dood, Mumbai band Punk on Toast present a melodic, controlled chaos, a politically-charged sound of young Indians in musical rebellion.
In the true spirit of punk, Punk on Toast’s first full studio album—released in 2017—didn’t waste time on subtlety. Their rebellious message was loud, clear, and direct, from the very first words you see of the release, it’s title.
We Abuse a Lot, So What?
It’s a thesis statement, not guarded, but on the offense, a question that stumps the inevitable accusatory fingers towards the rest of the band’s experience. They abuse a lot: literal abuses (F-bombs galore), as well as directed abuses at the Prime Minster, religion, Bollywood stars, hate-mongering newsmen and more. Over 12 short, energetic tracks, the album—a follow up to their debut 2015 EP For Hire—happily pissed off all grand inquisitors, and then asked, “Well, so what?”
In 2019, Punk on Toast brought the same rebellious energy for a grand live performance—their last before the pandemic—to the Above The Habitat stage in Mumbai. Playing a collection of their tracks over the years, this short, sharp, entertaining set was mastered and released as a special live album, Grugs Are Dood last month. Grugs Are Dood was recorded at the 10th edition of live gig-series United We Groove and also features Doom Metal outfit Dirge’s vocalist Tabish Khidir on the track “MH370”. Just clocking at about half an hour, it is an energetic ruckus—and a bittersweet sonic reminder of the live show experience before the pandemic dampened the scene.
“A huge part of this setlist reflects back to a time we were pissed off with the authorities and elitists,” said guitarist and sound engineer Kunal Dole. “The outlook on these songs are relevant to this day, and is a reminder that we are still being silenced by people in power.”
Like a number of indie genres, punk in India has found exciting new voices over the past decade, accelerating fan engagement like never before. Bands like Tripwire—considered by many as the pioneers of Indian punk rock—have been stalwarts of the genre, while Death by Fungi, Pacifist, The Lightyears Explode, Greyfade, The Riot Peddlers, and more have made their name on the scene, too. The Indian sound is inspired by many greats of international punk and alternative rock—The Clash, Sex Pistols, Ramones, Green Day, etc.—with the mix of playful exuberance and rebellious spirit that has become a hallmark of the genre.
Grugs Are Dood was inspired by another cult band, NOFX, and their quintessential record Punk in Drublic. Punk on Toast’s 2021 live album features 11 tracks with contributions from Aditya Naik on vocals and guitar, Kalidas Shenoy on drums, Prathamesh Sandansing on bass, and Dole. It is their first release in over three years, landing in the midst of the ongoing pandemic.
And, even with some soft re-openings, pandemic fear remains the status quo, the hesitation of large gatherings and of enclosed spaces. Thus, it is a strange experience listening to Grugs Are Dood in early 2021, an album bursting with the unique energy of a small crowded venue of music lovers, of feeling the bass thump out the speakers, of letting loose, of sweat and foreign smells, of sticky floors and woo-hoos, of sharing an airspace among friends and strangers, all swaying and singing and jumping to the beat from the same bombastic drum-set.
The live album includes some of most defiant tracks from Punk on Toast’s discography, including “Modi-Fied” (in its title itself, a not-so-subtle message to India’s supreme leader). Not a second is wasted to get started, and an energetic guitar solo signals the foundation of more to come. “Democracy is a Lie”, “Got No Bread or Wine”, “I Don’t Want To” and more songs that signal towards the punk generation’s political and social dissatisfaction. There are more targeted attacks at individuals or systems of oppression. In “The Nation Wants to Know”, Naik asks, “The nation really wants to know, how could you stoop so low?” The title is a reference to a certain hateful late-nice news anchor, but the question could’ve been directed at the political leaders or even industrialists behind the scenes. Then, there’s the popular “Being Inhuman”, which turns topsy-turvy India’s obsession with its flawed film star.
“Democracy is a Lie” doesn't keep things subtle. Over a sonic attack of drums and guitar, this track is one minute and 21 seconds of pure mayhem. “Your democracy is a fucking lie!” Naik chants, and the repeats. His voice is intense, urgent, storming a revolution that should’ve begun yesterday.
Songs like “Worst Day of my Life” are a throwback to melodious punk with introspective lyrics, the type of music particularly popularised in the 90s by bands like NOFX and Green Day, but capped with Naik’s funky delivery. It is here and in “No Overtime” where the band displays their ease and confidence in their sound. There are no loose ends in the live performance. In “No Overtime”, Naik sings of monotonous pains of daily life, lyrics that feel simple at first but grow in complexity with repetition and slight deviation. The monotony becomes more painful, and—with the help of inspired guitar solos, a magnanimous riff, and Shenoy’s fast-paced drum patterns—the party only gets louder.
It is a strange experience listening to Grugs Are Dood in early 2021, an album bursting with the unique energy of a small crowded venue, of feeling the bass thump out the speakers, of sweat and foreign smells, of sticky floors and woo-hoos, of sharing an airspace among friends and strangers, all swaying and singing and jumping to the beat from the same bombastic drum-set.
“Punk is the need of the hour,” said Dole over email. “No other form of music, (except rap maybe) is as vocally angry about the things which are going on in the country (and even globally). Since the style is so aggressive, it conveys the point across with a lot more weight than any other genre. Plus, it appeals to like-minded people who grew up listening to music like this, be it Dead Kennedys, or Black Flag, or Sham 69 or any other punk band.”
The anti-religion anthem “Got No Bread or Wine” is among the angriest songs on the album, refusing to beat around the bush with its message:
Superpowers lie
Force you to deny
Your conviction and humanity
For the sake your Christianity
And Hindus and Muslims and Jews
There’s no god who can control the storms
No mutants and no alderaan
It’s as punk as punk can be. And to those offended—well, so what? “There's no food for the dying young,” sings Naik in perhaps the strongest lines on the album, “but value meals for everyone."
Punk on Toast are at their best in a state of controlled chaos, a well-organised jam session. Tracks like “Modi-Fied”, “I Don’t Want To”, “The Nation Wants to Know”, “My Friends”, and the closer, “MH370” particularly revel in this spirit, evoking for a call-and-response from the audience and each other, and allowing the guitars and drums to shred away with free abandon.
Grugs Are Dood. Album art: Vikrant Kale
The band confessed that there was no plan to release a live album. But once many of their tours and shows were cancelled post-COVID, they refocused their energies into producing and releasing this live recording.
“We tried working remotely, it wasn't a lot of fun,” said Naik. “We have a habit of recording our shows to revisit the set after the gig. We went through the tracks from the 10th edition of United We Groove and it just felt right. Kunal [Dole] mixed the whole thing and the live album was ready.”
“There is another aspect to it also,” Dole added. “Most people in India are dependent on others to do their work for them. By doing 80% of the work within the band, we also want to put forward a very DIY aesthetic. In fact, future releases will have even more of that, since we are attempting to build some equipment from scratch, which will be used to record future releases. We really want people to take control of their own lives and not be so dependent on others. It helps an individual grow, and also saves time.”
“We also think it was something out of the ordinary,” said Naik of the album.
And one of those truly extraordinary moments in the album’s closer, “MH370”—titled after the disappeared Malaysian Airlines flight—featuring Tabish Khidir. The song-writing, as before, is often too literal, robbing listeners of the joy of excavation in multiple listens, devoid of the kind of depth that can be found even in the straightforward chaos of the best punk music. But by the conclusion of “MH370”—and the conclusion of the set—Naik, Khadir, and the band lead the cries of “I'm never coming home... I'm never coming home”, making for an ideal end-of-show experience, taking the listener away from the music we hear in our headphones to the actual live setting of fun and freedom. It’s angry, it’s happy, and it’s perfect; it’s the sound of a band that is sure of being just who they are—and fuck anyone who asks why.
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Karan Madhok is a writer, journalist, and editor of The Chakkar, whose fiction, translation, and poetry have appeared in Gargoyle, The Literary Review, The Bombay Review, The Lantern Review, F(r)iction, and more. He is the founder of the Indian basketball blog Hoopistani and has contributed to NBA India, SLAM Magazine, FirstPost, and more. Karan is currently working on his first novel. Twitter: @karanmadhok1.
