After a long gap following “Hyena Express”, released in 2020, the indie rock band Shonar Bangla Circus has returned with a dual studio album featuring 17 tracks last month.

Titled “Mohashoshan 1” and “Moshashoshan 2”, both discs offer ear-soothing tunes and also stay true to the band’s signature style—lyrics that unsettle, provoke, and compel listeners to think deeply. When three of the four band members; Probar Ripon, Shakil Haque and Saad Chowdhury—walked into The Daily Star office, the conversation quickly outgrew album talk and expanded into a larger reflection on how a band builds a sound from roots and restlessness, why it resists familiar Bangladeshi rock lineage, and what it means to make “Bangla funk” with a bandmate still deepening his relationship with the music of this land.

That bandmate, electric guitarist Seth Panduranga Blumberg, fondly known as Pandu— also joined the conversation from miles away, speaking to us from his home in California.

 Though physically distant, his presence added a distinct dimension to the discussion.

Probar Ripon begins by explaining the idea behind the new album and the time it took to bring it to life. “If you ask why it took us nearly three years to prepare this album, the answer is simple—it has 17 songs, and the arrangements are massive,” he says. Unlike “Hyena Express”, which relied mainly on the traditional rock setup of guitar, keyboard, bass, and drums, “Mohashoshan” embraces a much broader musical canvas. “This time we worked with an ensemble of instruments that are carefully layered—multiple layers of dhol, violin, and more.”

He recalls how quickly their previous album came together. “We recorded ‘Hyena Express’ in just four days, and the mixing and mastering took only two months,” Ripon adds. “But this is a full-fledged studio album—and a double album at that—so naturally it demanded much more time.”

Guitarist Pandu played an essential role in arranging the music for their latest albums. “The music in Bangladesh runs as deep and funky as its rivers. Its sounds, philosophies, performers, and practitioners are profound—true treasures of humanity. The grooves, the cosmic and deeply bodily lyrics, and the sheer funk of the performances affect me deeply,” he shares.
 

“I came to Bangladesh to learn, and I’m still learning. The roots music here has taught me so much, and I feel deeply connected to it. And since we are Shonar Bangla Circus, we need Bangla funk—it balances our collective sound. I don’t want us to be a ‘bideshi’ band. Balance matters. I can’t magically become Bangladeshi, so Saad and I still have distance to travel, while Ripon and Shakil are rooted here. It’s essential that this music carries the blood and heart of this land. I may be a student and an outsider, but I can surround myself with it and let it seep into my pores.”

Seth Panduranga Blumberg

Beyond the studio, other factors also slowed the process. The band was actively performing concerts, like every month, around 12 shows, and the country’s political situation further disrupted their momentum. “All of that affected our progress,” he says, “But in the end, time allowed the album to grow into what it needed to be.”
What sets Shonar Bangla Circus apart from other local bands? One undeniable factor is their conscious attempt to break away from the established Bangladeshi rock lineage. They are effortlessly ‘non-traditional’, refusing to conform to familiar structures or expectations. Still, we wanted to hear how the band members themselves define that difference.

“It’s more like lyrical music theatre—or even opera,” Ripon explains. “Our psychedelic approach sets us apart right from the start. Beyond that, we are a group of people who connect because we think alike.”

Pandu attached how he feels the connection with the band. “Music is our cosmic story—a bridge between the seen and unseen. As a band, when our sounds and minds merge, we tell both individual and collective stories. Our sound is deeply collaborative, and my approach to the guitar is about complementing my bandmates while serving my instincts.”

Keyboardist Saad Chowdhury, whose native language is not Bangla, has been part of the band a little bit later after the band was formed. For him, music remains the strongest binding force. “Music is what connects me with the team the most,” Saad reiterates. “Even if I don’t always grasp the deeper meaning of the lyrics, I can still relate to them musically. The intensity remains the same because we’re communicating beyond language.” He points out that some meanings remain elusive even to local listeners. “In the end, it’s the music that holds us together. I’ve never faced any challenge connecting with these people musically.”

What Saad values most, he says, is the band’s open-mindedness. He singles out Pandu, whom he met in 2012. “It was refreshing. I found someone who just goes wherever the guitar takes him. That freedom is deeply inspiring for me. I didn’t even realise I was like that myself until I met Pandu.”

Bassist Shakil Haque adds that the bond between Pandu, Ripon, and Saad predates the band itself. “They’ve been connected for more than 15 years,” he says. “Raju was also part of that circle at one point.” That long-standing familiarity, he implies, naturally translated into the band’s musical chemistry.

When the conversation turns to the music of “Mohashoshan”, Shakil offers a broader philosophical reflection. “Birth and death are inevitable phenomena of life, yet we rarely speak about them in their most natural form,” he explains. “They are either turned into moments of celebration or mourning. But what we’re addressing in this album and in the previous one as well, is how universal this experience really is.”

He gestures toward the larger world. “Look at our planet—where is death not happening? Where are people not suffering?” For Shonar Bangla Circus, this is not a commentary on isolated events but a timeless, global reality.

 “We’re not making a statement about something happening somewhere. This is something that is always happening, everywhere. It’s less about establishing a message and more about feeling and realising it.”

Creating music, he says, begins without a fixed agenda. “For us, it’s like standing in front of a white canvas. We pour everything into it, and whatever emerges—that becomes Shonar Bangla Circus.”

For Ripon, discomfort is an essential part of truth. His lyrics are meant to provoke that unease. “Look in the mirror, and you will see who you are,” he says. “It is not my responsibility to manipulate the mirror to make someone look beautiful. My responsibility is to show the mirror. The truth it reveals can be uncomfortable at times—and that is the intention.”

He draws a simple comparison to everyday reality. “When you open a newspaper, do you always find comforting news?” Ripon asks. “If not, does that mean the news is false? Of course not. It is reality.” Through his writing, he explains, Shonar Bangla Circus aims to bring listeners closer to reality—unfiltered, unsettling, and impossible to ignore.

Moving to their songs, which often leave listeners drifting into an imagined world, the band explains why music videos have never been a priority. “Finance is definitely a major issue,” Shakil admits. Saad and Ripon echo the thought, adding that their music does not depend heavily on visuals. “Our subject matter is vast and abstract,” they explain, “And capturing that visually, especially with AI-based imagery, requires a budget that plays a decisive role. However, we don’t want to disturb the imaginary power of the listener either!”

On the growing influence of artificial intelligence in the creative world, all the members agree on one point: AI cannot replace human emotion. There is concern, however, that future generations may struggle to distinguish between fact and fiction as AI-generated content becomes increasingly pervasive. “Technology is moving faster than ethics and guidelines,” Saad notes.

“Right now, it feels like the wild west.” He points out that while laws will eventually adapt, they will always lag behind innovation. “At the end of the day, it comes down to human principles and values.”

Meanwhile Pandu thinks, “I see AI as the same as I see the character ‘Data’ from ‘Star Trek’ the next generation. There are many helpful technical capabilities that it can employ and I would/will use them for those skills. I don’t need it to express or improvise or create human imperfections. I do that well enough. It's always helpful to have an assistant, I see it that way only as that's the extent of my usage and interest in it.”

He adds, “Charlie Parker once said learn all the rules and then forget them. We work hard to integrate the technical skill to execute the playing of the music but when we perform we allow the music to happen. The best music is when we are out of the way and allow the music to flow through us.”

Shakil is firm about where the band stands. “We would never want a machine to be part of Shonar Bangla Circus,” he says, stressing that live performance remains their strongest connection with the audience, something AI can never replicate. Ripon, meanwhile, offers a note of optimism, reminding us that even in the most technologically advanced societies, people still read books and cherish human-made art. “That practice will continue,” he believes.

The conversation also turns to the long-standing struggle musicians face with royalties. While international digital platforms now pay artistes directly, inequality persists. “It’s good that payments are based on views,” Ripon says, “but the alarming issue is that the rates are not equal to international payouts. Releasing a song from our country does not earn the same as releasing one from the West—and we still don’t fully understand why.”

Looking ahead, the band plans to continue their solo tour across the country under the title “Mohashoshan Jatra” this April, if the political situation remains stable. This time, they are also hopeful about taking their music beyond borders, with international tours firmly on the horizon.