Junoon brings Pakistani music and messages

It has been called "the U2 of South Asia" — but don't hold that against Junoon.

Hardly a clone of the bombastic Irish rock band, Junoon is an enchanting Pakistani band with an infectious beat and sage messages ... if you understand Urdu.

Junoon's members are: Ali Azmat, who sings in Urdu, the language of Pakistan; songwriter-guitarist Salman Ahmad, born in Pakistan, educated in New York; and American-born bass player Brian O'Connell.

Though he has been living in Pakistan for a decade, O'Connell is not just an American, he's a New Yorker. If you know anything about New Yorkers, you know they can be extremely free with their opinions. So imagine him at a casual social setting in Karachi, where he lives with his wife and children, when someone happens to say something anti-American.

Or, imagine him when he is touring the United States, and Americans ask how he can live with a bunch of terrorists.

"When I'm over there, I'm defending America — and when I'm here, I defend Pakistan," O'Connell said the other day, from his parents' home in suburban New York. "I carry two flags."

After the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, O'Connell feels the American media, which concentrated on anti-American/pro-Taliban protests in Pakistan, did not present the true picture of the region, nor the Islamic religion. "It's the distortion of a religion we get projected so glaringly," he said.

Islam as a mystical, peaceful view of the world is at the root of Junoon's music, which can be heard when the band makes its first Seattle appearance tomorrow. The benefit for Afghani children takes place at Ingraham High School.

"We've played everything from high schools to 80,000-seat venues," said O'Connell, who joined Junoon at the request of Ahmad, a high-school classmate of his in New York.

While Junoon has been labeled a "rock" band, that's a bit misleading. Junoon's music — which occasionally has, oddly enough, a Cuban echo to it — is far more WOMAD than Ozzfest. The band incorporates traditional Sindhi and Punjabi folk tunes, though it's a modernized sound accented with electric guitars. (Junoon songs can be heard at junoon.9f.com.)

Reviewing a concert a few years ago, New York Times critic Jon Pareles described Junoon's tunes as "a globe-hopping hybrid that can sound like Midnight Oil, a South Asian version of Santana or Indian film music."

"It's a blend of East and West," said O'Connell. Beyond being instantly attracted to the sound, he was also fascinated by Ahmad's lyrics, which often incorporate centuries-old Sufi poetry (Sufi is a mystical branch of Islam). "Sufi saints wrote very beautiful poetry ... they speak about simplicity. That really attracted me, as a Christian. Salman is a devout Muslim, I'm a devout Christian. Ali," O'Donnell added, with a chuckle, "is still searching.

"It's always been a secret desire of mine to make singing about God cool."

The picture of Junoon as beatific saints is perhaps misleading. "We're a very political band, we encourage our fans to stand up for themselves," said O'Donnell. Junoon is not afraid to take pot-shots at the establishment, as it did when it made a music video featuring white-gloved politicians gorging on a seven-course meal, while those around them starved.

A few years back, the band's commentaries put Junoon at odds with the Pakistani government. In the late '90s, Junoon spoke out against Pakistani — and Indian — nuclear-bomb testing. Junoon songs were banned from the radio, and the group was not permitted to perform in its homeland, though it continued to tour.

More recently, the Pakistani government has embraced Junoon. Late in 2001, Gen. Pervez Musharraf, the president of Pakistan, invited Junoon to perform during an important Pakistani holiday. Musharraf even joined Junoon on stage.

It has been a busy six months for this decade-old band. Junoon played a peace concert at the United Nations in New York on Oct. 24, and VH-1 aired a special on the Pakistani band in November.

And now Junoon is on another tour of the United States. Unlike those in previous years, this one carries with it a heavy burden, as the band reaches out to talk to as many people as possible. "After 9/11, it became apparent we had to be here (in the U.S.)," explained O'Donnell, "to cool the flames of misunderstanding."

Despite the fact that a Wall Street Journal reporter recently was murdered in Pakistan, O'Donnell has no plans to abandon his adopted country. "I do my best to dispel any rumors that American media might be spreading about how dangerous it is to live there. If (extremists) wanted to shoot me, they could have done it by now — I'm pretty easy to find."

Tom Scanlon can be reached at 206-464-3891 or tscanlon@seattletimes.com.