SHREYA BOSE
The passing of a quiet goddess.
Jayashree Singh( From always till forever)
On a winter evening( I do not remember the date) I was sitting at a restaurant somewhere in South Kolkata when in walked Amyt Datta and Jivraj Singh. They were accompanied by a woman with an elegant coif of silvery hair to whose presence I was unaware. I had just discovered Singh and Datta through their album“ Ambience de Danse”, reviewed it and chalked myself up to a superfan of the duo.
The friend I was sitting with and giggling to about the two men at the table beside us rolled his eyes at me. He was personally offended that my schoolgirl-ardour did not extend to their dinner companion.“ That’ s Jayashree Singh. From PINKNOISE. Skinny Alley?” I had no clue what these words meant.
“ Who let you write about music, man?” He asked, the very image of exasperation.
I came back home, found PINKNOISE on Bandcamp and realised why he was annoyed with me. Jayashree Singh’ s voice was a protean thing, a changeling that shifted skin and character like that. She went from seductive to fearsome to sardonic to challenging to zen in seconds. The music itself was so unashamedly experimental, something I had not yet started to expect from Kolkata.
I’ ve been listening to both PINKNOISE and Skinny Alley’ s existing repertoire endlessly ever since. Even though there isn’ t too much material, you couldn’ t get bored. These pleasantly mad scientists of sound kept things ceaselessly fun, and were flagshipped by Jayashreedi. In an era of cover bands, her voice was one of those that gave identity to original rock music in this country.
She had been trained in Carnatic music, but found her avatar when she found her mentor, the original diva of Calcutta- Pam Crain. Her voice conveyed a sense of
secret identities and unspoken history. At her time, she was a woman fronting two rock bands with inimitable sounds. She was the very definition of a woman who was writing her own story.
Her sentimentality was without any flamboyance, but you could never mistake her for someone who held anything back. I watched her live at Sienna Cafe: her way of being was just that of great conviction. She sat back and sang her piece with unconcerned enigma on her face. Watching her, I had the feeling that she knew exactly how incredible she was to the rest of us, and didn’ t really care.
In particular, it was Skinny Alley’ s debut album“ Escape The Roar” that gave us the image of the quintessential female rocker. Outside of Usha Uthup, I hadn’ t heard any Indian female vocalists in India doing a rock n roll croon and then shooting straight up into bass-heavy confrontation. She kept pace with those unpredictable guitars and drums, and eventually ended up giving them direction.
What always charmed me was that despite her musicmanship, what defined her was her kindness. Jayashree Singh was known for being a beacon and mentor to musicians in Kolkata. So many of the artists I have spoken have told me how generous she was with advice, affection and encouragement. Everyone gravitated to her easy kindness and her expansive artistry, both personally and musically.
Her passing is an irrevocable loss. No one can pretend otherwise. We’ ve lost much of what created that Calcutta post-colonial phonetic magic. We’ ve lost a voice that made nights come to life and filled them with one heady rush after another. But make no mistake, the stars are rushing for front-row seats to her great gigs in the sky.
The Score Magazine
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