<p>When you think of music, fusion, and percussion, one name instantly comes to mind — Taufiq Qureshi. In fact, his name is synonymous with innovation and rhythm. In an exclusive interview with <em>DHoS</em>, the ‘Father of Djembe’ and pioneer of Indian fusion music shares his insights on the evolution of Indian soundscapes, the integration of global instruments like the Djembe, and the enduring spirit of fusion.<br></p><p>Excerpts:</p>.<p><strong>You have been instrumental in popularising the Djembe. Has it found its mojo in India?</strong></p>.<p>The Djembe is now very popular in India. Around 25 years ago, nobody even knew about the instrument here. When I started playing the Djembe, I began transposing tabla knowledge onto this African drum. Today, I see the Djembe everywhere — in orchestras, on reality shows, in rhythm circles. Even children are picking it up. It’s available in music stores in all kinds and varieties, something that wasn’t the case even 15 years ago. It’s heartening to see that the Djembe has truly found its place in India. I won’t say it’s because of me alone. My son, Shikhar Naad, and my students have also been instrumental in spreading awareness about it.</p>.<p><strong>A lot of Western instruments have become integral to Indian music — the guitar, the piano, and others. Which instruments, in your view, shine most in our music culture today?</strong></p>.<p>The key instruments that shine in Indian music are, of course, our own — the sitar, flute, sarod, sarangi, and santoor. Among percussion instruments, the tabla continues to hold a special place in classical music. As for Western instruments, the violin, guitar, and mandolin (popularised here by Uppalapu Srinivas) have all been embraced within the Indian classical framework. The Djembe, too, is now being recognised as an instrument capable of performing tabla repertoire within the classical field.</p>.<p><strong>How open are Indian audiences to fusion?</strong></p>.<p>Indian audiences are very open-hearted and open-minded when it comes to fusion. If they sense that tradition is being presented respectfully — that we’re not tampering with its essence — they readily embrace it. For instance, the Djembe is now seen both as a solo instrument and as an accompanying one with the sitar, santoor, and flute. The key is to balance innovation with reverence.</p>.<p><strong>Is fusion music the current trend? Do you ever feel it’s been diluted over time?</strong></p>.<p>Fusion is indeed the current tradition. Classical music, too, remains strong — even though, 30 years ago, many feared it would fade away. It hasn’t, and it never will. Whatever fusion we do, our roots will always be classical, because that’s the tradition we’ve learned. Fusion doesn’t dilute music — not when done right. When we merge genres thoughtfully, we actually bring their best qualities forward.</p>.<p>Take Raag Yaman, for instance — a deeply traditional raga, yet the foundation for countless timeless film songs: <em>Jab Deep Jale Aana</em>, <em>Abhi Na Jao Chhodkar</em>, <em>Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo</em>. But if we treat the raga only as a vehicle for film songs, that’s when dilution happens. The goal is to retain the strength of the ‘Raagdari’ while exploring new expressions. Fusion has always been part of Indian music. From Dhrupad and Dhamar evolving into Khayal Gayaki, to the Pakhavaj giving way to the tabla — evolution has always been a kind of fusion.</p>.<p>When my father, Ustad Alla Rakha, and Pandit Ravi Shankar collaborated with Yehudi Menuhin and John Handy, or when the Beatles embraced Indian music — that was fusion too. Later, Zakir Bhai, John McLaughlin, L Shankar, and Vikku Vinayakram took it to a whole new level with Shakti. In the 80s and 90s, fusion truly came into its own. I continue to carry that legacy forward through my bands, Surya and Mumbai Stamp.</p>.<p><strong>What’s your take on autotune and software-based fine-tuning in music?</strong></p>.<p>I hate autotune! Back then, there was no autotune, yet we loved those songs, didn’t we? When Pancham Da sang in his wonderfully distorted voice, or when Mukeshji went slightly kan-sur (off-pitch), we still cherished it — because there was a feeling in that imperfection. Today, autotune makes things too easy. AI, too, is fascinating — but it still lacks spontaneity. When I’m on stage, I respond to the audience’s pulse. What happens in my head at that moment translates instantly into rhythm — that’s something AI simply can’t replicate.</p>.<p><strong>Do instrumentalists sometimes take a backseat while the spotlight stays on vocalists?</strong></p>.<p>Yes, many feel that singing automatically brings more attention. So everyone wants to sing — and that’s fine. But if everyone sings, who will play the instruments? We need that balance to preserve the beauty of both forms.</p>.<p><strong>Something you miss about Zakir Bhai?</strong></p>.<p>What I miss most is sharing the stage with him. Because of his busy schedule, I couldn’t spend as much time learning from him as I’d have liked. But every performance with him was a masterclass — a day of immense learning and inspiration. Whenever I was with him, that day felt complete.</p>
<p>When you think of music, fusion, and percussion, one name instantly comes to mind — Taufiq Qureshi. In fact, his name is synonymous with innovation and rhythm. In an exclusive interview with <em>DHoS</em>, the ‘Father of Djembe’ and pioneer of Indian fusion music shares his insights on the evolution of Indian soundscapes, the integration of global instruments like the Djembe, and the enduring spirit of fusion.<br></p><p>Excerpts:</p>.<p><strong>You have been instrumental in popularising the Djembe. Has it found its mojo in India?</strong></p>.<p>The Djembe is now very popular in India. Around 25 years ago, nobody even knew about the instrument here. When I started playing the Djembe, I began transposing tabla knowledge onto this African drum. Today, I see the Djembe everywhere — in orchestras, on reality shows, in rhythm circles. Even children are picking it up. It’s available in music stores in all kinds and varieties, something that wasn’t the case even 15 years ago. It’s heartening to see that the Djembe has truly found its place in India. I won’t say it’s because of me alone. My son, Shikhar Naad, and my students have also been instrumental in spreading awareness about it.</p>.<p><strong>A lot of Western instruments have become integral to Indian music — the guitar, the piano, and others. Which instruments, in your view, shine most in our music culture today?</strong></p>.<p>The key instruments that shine in Indian music are, of course, our own — the sitar, flute, sarod, sarangi, and santoor. Among percussion instruments, the tabla continues to hold a special place in classical music. As for Western instruments, the violin, guitar, and mandolin (popularised here by Uppalapu Srinivas) have all been embraced within the Indian classical framework. The Djembe, too, is now being recognised as an instrument capable of performing tabla repertoire within the classical field.</p>.<p><strong>How open are Indian audiences to fusion?</strong></p>.<p>Indian audiences are very open-hearted and open-minded when it comes to fusion. If they sense that tradition is being presented respectfully — that we’re not tampering with its essence — they readily embrace it. For instance, the Djembe is now seen both as a solo instrument and as an accompanying one with the sitar, santoor, and flute. The key is to balance innovation with reverence.</p>.<p><strong>Is fusion music the current trend? Do you ever feel it’s been diluted over time?</strong></p>.<p>Fusion is indeed the current tradition. Classical music, too, remains strong — even though, 30 years ago, many feared it would fade away. It hasn’t, and it never will. Whatever fusion we do, our roots will always be classical, because that’s the tradition we’ve learned. Fusion doesn’t dilute music — not when done right. When we merge genres thoughtfully, we actually bring their best qualities forward.</p>.<p>Take Raag Yaman, for instance — a deeply traditional raga, yet the foundation for countless timeless film songs: <em>Jab Deep Jale Aana</em>, <em>Abhi Na Jao Chhodkar</em>, <em>Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo</em>. But if we treat the raga only as a vehicle for film songs, that’s when dilution happens. The goal is to retain the strength of the ‘Raagdari’ while exploring new expressions. Fusion has always been part of Indian music. From Dhrupad and Dhamar evolving into Khayal Gayaki, to the Pakhavaj giving way to the tabla — evolution has always been a kind of fusion.</p>.<p>When my father, Ustad Alla Rakha, and Pandit Ravi Shankar collaborated with Yehudi Menuhin and John Handy, or when the Beatles embraced Indian music — that was fusion too. Later, Zakir Bhai, John McLaughlin, L Shankar, and Vikku Vinayakram took it to a whole new level with Shakti. In the 80s and 90s, fusion truly came into its own. I continue to carry that legacy forward through my bands, Surya and Mumbai Stamp.</p>.<p><strong>What’s your take on autotune and software-based fine-tuning in music?</strong></p>.<p>I hate autotune! Back then, there was no autotune, yet we loved those songs, didn’t we? When Pancham Da sang in his wonderfully distorted voice, or when Mukeshji went slightly kan-sur (off-pitch), we still cherished it — because there was a feeling in that imperfection. Today, autotune makes things too easy. AI, too, is fascinating — but it still lacks spontaneity. When I’m on stage, I respond to the audience’s pulse. What happens in my head at that moment translates instantly into rhythm — that’s something AI simply can’t replicate.</p>.<p><strong>Do instrumentalists sometimes take a backseat while the spotlight stays on vocalists?</strong></p>.<p>Yes, many feel that singing automatically brings more attention. So everyone wants to sing — and that’s fine. But if everyone sings, who will play the instruments? We need that balance to preserve the beauty of both forms.</p>.<p><strong>Something you miss about Zakir Bhai?</strong></p>.<p>What I miss most is sharing the stage with him. Because of his busy schedule, I couldn’t spend as much time learning from him as I’d have liked. But every performance with him was a masterclass — a day of immense learning and inspiration. Whenever I was with him, that day felt complete.</p>