Rush

It's so obvious from both the liner notes and the performances on Truth that Amaan and Ayaan Ali Khan believe in what they are doing, which is basically marrying Indian classical music — from the innovations of their famous father Amjad Ali Khan (a musician who redefined the way the sarod was played and used) — to modern electronic music. While it's true that the notion of world music and electronic music fused together is as tired a concept as there is, these two brothers approach their task with optimism. One thing that is never sacrificed in this mix of tunes is the classical element of Indian music. It never disappears. It is almost drowned out in places, but it is ever present. Both sarod-playing and singing brothers are accompanied by mixologist Sawan Dutta, who tries to enhance rather than cover the beautiful songs, but his use of breaks and outrageously huge echo are a distraction. Their view was to marry sacred and lounge music, a concept that is almost doomed from the outset by its overuse in contemporary new age recordings. It's not so much that the music here doesn't work; it does, and magically. It's the beat and effects strategy that's deeply flawed. There is one exceptional cut, however, and that is the title track where father and mother (Subbulakshmi Khan) appear with their sons, and the sonic effects are minimal and ghostly. The track is utterly moving and beautiful. There are some who will swear by the music found on Truth. It wears soul and sincerity in its complex droning natural harmonics and in its ecstatic lyrics; for the rest of us, we can hope that the Khan brothers return to what they do best: unadorned traditional Indian music.