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ARTS REVIEW: RASIKA MATHUR - 'THE SARI (W)RAP'

Amoeba’s Homegrown Talent of the Month Drops Some Social Commentary

By: Parimal M. Rohit
March 6, 2011

Rasika Mathur started her 2011 off right, as the multi-talented artist was declared Amoeba Music’s “Homegrown Talent of the Month” for January. While her reign came to an end on February 6th, the comedienne, who made a name for herself in MTV’s Wild N Out and most recently was a supporting cast member of the independent Muslim American film Taqwacores, used her recently christened “Homegrown Talent of the Month” title as the ideal platform to push her socially conscious, musically themed The Sari (W)rap. A bold and offbeat album displaying Ms. Mathur’s range of intellect and talent, The Sari (W)rap is not an album for everyone.

 
No one person or topic is safe in her album, as Ms. Mathur tackles hairy girls and their incessant need for threading, young teens secretly drinking alcoholic beverages, perceived Indian sex via The Kama Sutra, actual but ancient Indian mores death rites via cremation, societal expectations of stellar academic performance and overachievement, the motherland’s infatuation with the British crown and its most toffee-nosed love of Cricket, the much-ballyhooed concept of Indian Standard Time, and the taboos of dating outside the ethnicity and the immense pressures of getting married.
 
With 16 tracks, The Sari (W)rap is Ms. Mathur’s take on the state of the Indian American experience, laying down tracks to catchy musical beats while sporting cliché Indian accents and spewing her witty observations of conventional stereotypes. Buzzine Bollywood offers a quick synopsis of each track below:
 
“Back That Thing Up”
A spoof on Juveline’s “Back That Thang Up,” Ms. Mathur is quite the geek with a nasal Indian accent in asking you to “Back That Thing Up” … as in to back up the data of your computer. “If you are using Linux, you should back that thing up. Even hoes with iPhones know to back that thing up.” Fully laced with tech humor, Ms. Mathur pays homage to the large segment of South Asians populating the IT and technology industries.
 
“Borders”
A monologue, Ms. Mathur speaks out about being a woman and dealing with men’s constant sexual urges and the fear of Peeping Toms in the ladies room.
 
“Cremations”
Switching the console with her favorite guitar, Ms. Mathur delves into the common Hindu practice of cremation. “It’s what you do so you don’t rot!” Bringing new meaning to India’s answer to ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Ms. Mathur says that, while it’s nice to keep one's post-mortem ashes in an urn, ultimately life itself goes on, even when we as individuals do not.
 
“Cricket”
Returning to her Indian aunty accent, Ms. Mathur gears up for a lullaby to the sound of crickets before being abruptly cut off at track’s end. A tad short of being a deep track, “Crickets” is too short in length for the average listener to really make sense of what Ms. Mathur is trying to say, but rest assured, she makes a pass at sleep disorders and India’s love affair with the British throne.
 
“I Don’t Practice Enough”
Adding a little soul to The Sari (W)rap, “I Don’t Practice Enough” is an ode to all those young Indian kids who unwillingly endured hours of torturous and tormenting tutoring and coaching sessions at the behest of their parents. Overachievers, anyone?
 
“I Think I’m Gonna Kama Sutra”
A topic usually best reserved for the likes of Barry White, Teddy Pendergrast, and Marvin Gaye (who is sampled in this track), Ms. Mathur plays upon that ever-so-popular Indian book of (among other things) sexual pleasures. A mockumentary of sorts (“This book gave birth to a whole race”), Ms. Mathur playfully pokes fun at some of the absurdities associated with The Kama Sutra.
 
“Indita Mia”
Quite the folksy thing, the most notable characteristic of this track is its playing upon the Indian drivers seeking cheap deals by Mexican mechanics to the tune of a mariachi band. This track is rather universal in its themes.
 
“My Guitar Teacher is White”
 Not all Indians are super educated, and not all Indians know every other Indian out there. There are a billion of us, after all. We cannot be all the same, and we do not all know each other. On the one end is the enlightened Caucasian: “I know she is going to be a really good student too, because the Indian culture is devoted to their studies.” On the other side is the excitedly righteous Indian: “I hope he doesn’t do that funny thing where he’s like, ‘Do you know that so-and-so Indian person?”
 
“Punctuation”
Ms. Mathur shares her mental thoughts of having a period. Not the grammatical one, but the biological one. Women should have no problem relating to this quick and easy track, which is quite ironic since periods are anything but quick and easy.
 
“The Indian Irish Drinking Song”
The flute adds a nice layer to this track before Ms. Mathur appears in a faux Irish accent and delves into a comically observational tirade comparing the Irish to Indians. Yeah, the flags may bear similar colors, and each country’s accent may be fun to sport, but Ms. Mathur has a little bit of fun in pointing out how both cultures are oddly diametric yet similar.
 
“The Sari (W)rap”
No album is complete without a title track. Ms. Rathur reverts to her hip hop/urban music ways, but not without infusing a little bit of tabla. Through it all, Ms. Mathur brings in elements of her own life in telling her story.
 
“The Threading Salon Chronicles”
A film noir-type skit, Ms. Mathur goes through the happenings at a threading salon as if it were a chapter in Queen Latifah’s Beauty Shop. In this track, she plays upon the different personalities who come in and out of a threading salon. While funny and told in a way that can easily be visualized, this track is probably better off going viral on the Web as a three-minute video skit.
 
“Their Satanic Majesties Last Guitar …”
Anyone who wants drama can find it in this soap opera of a skit, aptly playing upon the tug-of-war between Corporate America and the righteously creative youth. In many ways, this track is most representative of America’s young working professionals today who, instead of focusing in on one craft, try to do too much, all while playing upon the notion that someone wearing a suit means they have “sold out” to The Man.
 
“Threading Rap”
Another spoof, Ms. Mathur jokingly makes fun of hairy Indian women sporting unibrows and mustaches. Not much commentary to add here, as those who have come across such women at least once in their actual lives will very much relate to Ms. Mathur’s observations. For those who have not experienced Indian women with unibrows and mustaches, the visual need not be taken any further, and it is best to move on to the next track.
 
“We Love You England”
A reverse lullaby (singing to an elderly instead of a child), the young person commentates on the various Indo Brits who have populated the entertainment space in our generation, including Naveen Andrews and Parminder Nagra, all in the name of playing upon the interesting relationship between India and England. “Damn Bollywood” and “Don’t even get me started on Slumdog” are quite the interesting quotables.
 
“Wedding Disaster”
No social commentary on the Indian culture is complete without getting into weddings and marriage. Playing to the tune of filmy Bollywood music, Ms. Mathur plays upon just about every stereotype associated with Indian weddings, indicating such cultural events are more disastrous than beautiful.