nihsahshsaH (UK Edition) is the first release to be announced from an exciting new hook-up between the UK’s Small Pond recordings and Australian psychedelic/progressive label Art As Catharsis. Out now, the release brings together Australian outfit Hashshashin’s acclaimed nihsahshsaH album with new live versions of the music in a special digital bundle for UK fans.
Mixing meditative Eastern sounds with psychedelia, prog and drone, the ‘nihsahshsaH’ album was inspired by the mystics of past and present, who fled their homes and walked out into the desert in search of something to soothe the roar of their broken minds. On the new live versions, Hashshashin pair their sun-baked, Middle Eastern psychedelia with a live improvisation by guitarist Simon Dawes of Instrumental (adj.), whose spacious and creative guitar playing calls to mind the compositions of Morricone, the nuance of Bill Frisell, and variety of Robert Fripp. Check out nihsahshsaH below!
We managed to catch up with the band as they talk about their latest release and more!
So how pumped are you to be releasing nihsahshsaH to the UK?
It’s amazing. The response we’ve received from the record has just blown us away. We had no idea this weird mix of styles would appeal to anybody – and yet, every week we still seem to be finding new fans.
To be working with Small Pond to release our debut in the UK is another great step forward for us, and hopefully a precursor to a UK/European tour in 2019.
Is the release any different for the UK edition?
On top of our debut we’ve also included our brand new live release, ‘nihsahshsaH (adj.)’. That recording is special because it features Simon Dawes of Instrumental (adj.) improvising on guitar alongside us. He’s a wizard: he executes all these bizarre modal manipulations that cast new light on our material, and pulls out some really unexpected sounds.
His band, Instrumental (adj.), are a huge inspiration to us. They’ve part of a long tradition of Australian progressive metal bands constantly pushing boundaries – Squat Club, Five Star Prison Cell, Serious Beak, Tangled Thoughts Of Leaving, and so on. They are also dear friends.
Tell us something about the release no one else knows?
Our album features a number of field recordings that I collected while travelling across India and Nepal. I spent a lot of time in the Himalayas, and with Tibetan communities in particular. At the end of ‘Immolation’ you can hear one of those recordings. I’ll share the story behind it.
I can remember the day well. I had flown from Pokhara to Jomsom – a tiny airport in the middle of the Himalayas. It’s not a particularly safe route. A few weeks before I flew, a plane very similar to the one I took – a small, propeller-powered, 30 seat thing – lost control and crashed into the mountains, killing everyone onboard.
The risk was worth it. That region, known as Lower Mustang, was like unlike anything I had ever experienced. You walk through these immense valleys, that are so enormous that they distort your sense of time and space – you walk, but you never seem to progress anywhere. You follow path of the The Black River, crushing underfoot ancient fossils from when this highly elevated platform was once under the sea. I walked for four hours as the sun roasted my skin, and wind stung my face, until finally I arrived at a town called Kagbeni.
At the centre of Kagbeni stands Kag Chode temple and monastery – this beautiful building of deep earthy red, made of mud and stone that stands like the remains of some long forgotten era. These is something so powerful and immediate about it. It’s close to 600 years old, but it feels so much more ancient than that.
Afterwards I walked through town down medieval alleyways, passing yak-skin gates and decorated yak skulls – shamanic ritual objects. As I came to the gateway to Upper Mustang, which leads to the Forgotten Kingdom of Lo, I heard these two exceedingly old Tibetan men, one singing this beautiful, slow, mournful song, and another reciting the words of a sacred text in a robotic drone. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life, and its captured on that record.
How have the guys at Small Pond helped you release this in the UK?
They’ve kindly opened up their bank of press and radio contacts to help secure us airplay, reviews and interviews. They’ve introduced our music to a whole host of new people. This lays the groundwork for future collaboration together.
If you could work with any band on a new song, who would it be and why?
It’s hard to say. Creating music is so intensely personal to me, so my relationship with the individuals I play with is really important. That said, I think I’d love to collaborate with Phurpa. They’re this amazing group who play ritual music from the shamanic Bön tradition – the religion which dominated pre-Buddhist Tibet, and which lends such an interesting flavour to Tibetan Buddhism. To drone alongside them would be a dream.
Have you got any plans for a tour in the UK any time soon?
Well, individually we are broke, but we all want to make this happen. With Small Pond on our side, it’s more probable than ever. Our drummer is due to travel to the UK in mid-2019, so perhaps we’ll have to join him for a run of shows. Here’s hoping.
Will you be playing any festivals this year?
We’re playing NICEFEST in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane. That’s our Australian label, Art As Catharsis’ showcase of progressive and experimental music. We’re also heading to Perth for a new festival called OMEN, and will be performing an audio-visual collaboration as part of Vivid Festival in Sydney.
What do you get up to in your spare time when not working on music?
Well, as I answer this interview I’m drinking cheap Indian whiskey in McLeod Ganj, nestled at the foot of the Himalayas. Last week I was in Jodhpur in Rajasthan for a Sacred Music Festival.
Generally though, my life is a little less exotic. I run the record label Art As Catharsis, I read books, and I work for NGOs like Amnesty International.
What was the first gig you ever attended?
God, I have no idea. I remember attending some awful Christian ska concert when quite young – perhaps when I was 13? Sadly, that may have been my first gig. Oh well. Onwards and upwards.