Nowhere But Here
Photo Credit: Nowhere Station
Personal essay: Anant Mital, drummer of Delhi-based Nowhere Station, shares the story of the band’s origins and ambitions on the eve of their debut release.
Editor’s Note: The Indian band Nowhere Station, which began as a busking project, will release their first album, Nowhere Station One, a crowd-funded project, in September. After the release of their first single “Oceans Beyond”, Nowhere Station’s drummer Anant Mital wrote a personal essay for The Chakkar detailing the band’s journey so far.
Once upon a time—2013 to be exact—four young musicians convened at the same spot in the same building in the same city. The city was New Delhi and the building was the Department of Architecture at the School of Planning and Architecture (SPA for short). The room we shared was barely big enough to fit us—let alone allow for any other additions. Eventually, things were created in this room: bonds, memories, strategies for how to pass the semester, and—most importantly—harmonious vibrations of particles in the form of pressure waves that propagated outwards.
Music, in other words.
The walls were clad with rockwool, the windows were so tiny as to be almost non-existent, and the door was to always be kept shut. We did everything possible to restrict these ‘Good Vibrations’ (salute to the Beach Boys) indoors.
This is the story of how we finally managed to get those vibes and that music out of that room.
We felt at home in this room; it was a cocoon in an otherwise hectic institution in an even more hectic city. When we were inside, we were insulated from the outside world and free to try our hand at making music with the instruments that lay there. We were all part of the music societies at college and had played together a fair bit, and quickly, we began to discover how much we enjoyed writing and performing with each other.
A note on our music societies: they are nothing like the hardcore, competition-winning DU societies that one often hears about. No, ours existed mainly for our own pleasure at our own intra-college festivals. It was a big achievement to make it to even two competitions in a season. For the rest of the year, we were part of the rather self-indulgent—and beautiful—culture of creating for ourselves at SPA. (Sometimes, however, we were given new and previously unheard-of songs to play five minutes before taking the stage—but that’s another story.)
Having played and written together for almost seven years now, we have run into a number of creative blocks, times when you just can’t seem to write, no matter how hard you try. We had a bad case of ‘The Block’ at the very beginning, when the band was still very new. We continued to jam and play and refine and practice, and from the collective moment of uncertainty and despair, we produced a sound and a direction that would eventually continue to evolve and mutate over the next few years.
Armed with some more songs, we began to play shows, and were thrust onto what is known to the insiders as ‘The Scene’. This was a confusing time, and we asked ourselves questions like: Should we play what we want to, or what the crowd wants us to? Should we listen to the man in the corner of the club who shouts “Ek tadakta phadakta Punjabi gaana ho jaaye”? Should we listen to the piss-drunk man who climbs onto the stage in the middle of the set and asks for the DJ to start playing? Should we listen to people who tell us that upbeat covers are the correct, nay, the only way to go?
This enigma of ‘The Scene’ seemed to be a house with golden windows: enticing, but with complexities and contradictions that were not always apparent at first glance. Nevertheless, we chose to ignore the noisy drunk men and persevere—you might even say quite stubbornly. This is not to say that we didn’t stop to question why we were doing what we were doing. There were enough people around us (some close and some not-so-close) who thought we were just wasting our time.
But some amount of ambition is necessary, right? You don’t get anywhere without it. The million-dollar question, though, is what is this ‘some amount’? How can it be quantified and/or justified? Should we stretch our ambition to its limits? (Macbeth probably won’t agree, but there’ll be enough who will). I mean, there’s only so much time in a day, only so many days in a week, etc etc. So, is it then about striking a balance and charting a course that won’t end up capsizing the ship and sending it into the Oceans Beyond? (apna hi self-reference ftw—pat on the back!) Where do we draw the line?
For the four of us, there was one clear line: to keep doing what we were doing. This wasn’t altogether easy, given that we had all ended up at a school of architecture - generally accepted to be the toughest degree in the world. This meant that other lines had to be erased and re-drawn, involving people, places, as well as other dreams and ambitions.
There were some bad decisions taken as well. A series of unfortunate incidents led us to basically record the same album twice—and shell out for it both times. Thankfully we had the help of our supporters the second time around and we managed to crowd-fund the album in its second avatar. This, and a bunch of other things impressed upon us the need to zoom out and look at things holistically; to pause, stop, take a breath, and smell the roses.
Armed with some more songs, we began to play shows. This was a confusing time, and we asked ourselves questions like: Should we play what we want to, or what the crowd wants us to? Should we listen to the man in the corner of the club who shouts “Ek tadakta phadakta Punjabi gaana ho jaaye”? Should we listen to people who tell us that upbeat covers are the correct, nay, the only way to go?
Of course, ambition, competition and creative block aside, ups and down exist. These crests and troughs in many ways can chart and describe entire lives; these dualities are all-pervading—at an individual level and as well as at a collective level.
We faced self-doubts, yo-yoing mental states, and other extraneous factors in our lives, and it resulted in internal conflict: individually and in the band. It demonstrated to us how underrated the idea of ‘normalcy’ is—or, indeed, does such a thing really exist? Everyone seems to be learning the motions and steps to the ‘Dance of Life’—and your partner and/or the music can change any minute.
The ups and the downs, however, were important and instructive, and were necessary checkpoints for us as we continued to traverse this path we had chosen.
In many situations, there are moments that make everything seem worthwhile. For some people it might be the sight of the sun rising during the course of a road trip, or a smile from someone you just helped. For us, those moments were the ones where we engage and interact with our audiences—on-stage and off. Even now, no matter what happens, we keep getting drawn back to that bond that exists between performers and audiences, each simultaneously feeding off and fuelling the other. Very rarely does a bond thus form between people who are otherwise no better than strangers. It’s joyous and addictive, miraculous and pragmatic, passionate and platonic.
We have come a fair way since that opportune meeting in the tiny room. That’s not at all to say that we have overcome or figured out any of the things mentioned above—if anything, we’ve come to terms with the fact that these are all important bits that are necessary to make things work, and will require a sufficient amount of strategy and navigation, even if that means turning things upside down.
After the debacle of the double-recording, we finally did manage to put together an album that we are proud of—one that we’re finally beginning to share with the rest of the world. You can listen to the first song of this debut album below.
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Anant Mital is a Delhi-based architect and musician. He is a clasically trained tabla player and drummer, and currently plays with the bands Nowhere Station and Jonty Indra, in addition to working as a session musician. While not making music, he works at vir.mueller architects in Delhi. You can follow him on Instagram at: @anantmital.
