The raw emotional power of Arooj Aftab’s Vulture Prince.
Raised in Pakistan and now a Brooklyn native, Arooj Aftab masterfully blends elements of jazz and electronic music with vocal techniques lyricism steeped in Urdu classical tradition on her third album, creating a uniquely captivating sound that simultaneously evokes feelings of love and loss.
I first stumbled upon Arooj Aftab’s third album, Vulture Prince, almost exactly two years ago, as I resurfaced from a brutal Chicago winter amidst the ongoing chaos of a fully virtual university experience. As I battled severe insomnia, sometimes going several days without more than a few minutes of sleep, it soon became a staple of my nightly routine. I don’t know if I realized at the time, Vulture Prince burrowed its way into the folds of my brain, lodged itself deep within, and stuck. Now, nearly two years later, I find myself reminiscing, still feeling the impact of this album on my life and the person I’ve grown to become since the first time I heard it.
Aftab, a Pakistani-born, Brooklyn-based musician, began her music career in her parents’ native Lahore, where she studied classical music. After moving to the U.S. in 2005 and graduating from Boston’s Berklee College of Music, she settled in New York, releasing her debut album Bird on Water in 2014 and second album Siren Islands in 2018. In comparison to these projects, Vulture Prince was a more anticipated release, and for good reason; On it, Aftab elevates her musical career completely, transcending her previous projects and reaching new heights altogether.
Throughout the making of Vulture Prince, Aftab was influenced by her experiences as a South Asian woman living in the United States. In interviews, she has spoken about the challenges she faced as an immigrant artist and the ways in which she has used her music to explore themes of identity and belonging. The sudden, unexpected death of her younger brother Maher — to whom the album is dedicated — caused another shift in the trajectory of the album, as she masterfully poured the intensity of her grief into emotional string melodies and sorrowful production.
One of the most impressive aspects of Vulture Prince is Aftab's vocals. The songs on the album are primarily sung in Urdu, with some English lyrics dispersed throughout. Her ethereal and haunting voice is a perfect match for the album's experimental and innovative sound. In an interview with Pitchfork, Aftab — the first Pakistani woman to win a Grammy — spoke about these tonal and linguistic differences, saying, “Everything changes a little bit — the intonation and inflection, the accent, the diction. I don’t take a lot of risks when I’m singing in English. I’ve developed a vocal agility and created my own sound in Urdu.” Her abilities are particularly evident on tracks like “Last Night,” where she effortlessly blends Urdu ghazal technique and English with remarkable fluidity. The song is the only track primarily sung in English — there is still one Urdu verse, containing Aftab’s interpolation of the words of famous poet Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī.
When it comes to the lyrics themselves, I found myself struggling to find credible translations beyond those that were already confirmed by Aftab herself on Genius. My solution? Send the album to a woman well versed in South Asian languages, who grew up listening to Hindustani classical music and ghazals: my mother. While she isn’t 100% fluent in Urdu, she does speak Hindi, and proceeded to help me uncover some more meaning behind Aftab’s emotional phrases. A powerful central line in “Mohabbat” translates to “the sadness of this is equal to the sadness of all the world,” and while a good chunk of Aftab’s work is original, she notably draws a lot inspiration from interpreting and recontextualizing words from great Urdu writers. In Aftab’s own words, “I don’t feel the need to write something personal myself because there’s already just so much good poetry out there along these lines.” This spoke to me on a personal level; I don’t speak Urdu, but even I was able to feel a deeper, underlying importance and profundity to the words being sung. Being able to share this music with my mom, and engage in thought-provoking conversation on the limits of translation speaks to Aftab’s incredible ability to create music that not only transcends our traditional notion of genre, but that bridges generations as well.
In addition to its incredible lyricism, Vulture Prince also features a range of instruments, including acoustic and electric guitars, strings, synthesizers, and percussion on two of the tracks. From the lilting harp notes that bookend the opening song “Baghon Main” to the reverberating guitar tone in “Mohabbat”, the result is a layered and complex sound that rewards repeat listens, and I still find myself drawn to something new every time. “Mohabbat” in particular utilizes a repeated riff almost like a drone, grounding the listening in a manner similar to how a harmonium is used in a lot of Hindustani and Carnatic classical music; the song earned Aftab her first Grammy award for Best Global Music Performance in 2022.
Vulture Prince is a stunning work of art that seamlessly blends elements of Pakistani classical and Urdu ghazal tradition, jazz, and electronic music into a celestial, breathtakingly captivating sound. From the haunting vocals on “Mohabbat” to the jazz and reggae-infused percussion on “Last Night,” Aftab's musical prowess shines through on every track. Vulture Prince is a must-listen for fans of experimental and innovative music; Aftab's unique blend of musical influences and exceptional vocal abilities made this album one of the standout releases of 2021. It’s an album that came to me during a particularly dark period, and one that will forever ground me, a permanent reminder of the light at the end of the tunnel.
edited by Alyssa Manthi.
album artwork believed to belong to either the publisher of the work or the artist.