The elusive Shahzad Ismaily
Shahzad Ismaily and I have a long, but very sporadic, history. We went to high school together, and he witnessed my first ever original song. At the time he listened to the Red Hot Chili Peppers and my songs were, um, not so great. Times change for both of us, we hope.
Flash-forward to the year 2000, when I got off the L train at Bedford (yes, I was hip then), and ran into him after 10 years. We met later in the elevator shaft of his loft apartment building and shared songs. We ended up working together on an album of songs of mine called Sweet Insanity. The most complete, and most representative, song of this collaboration is included below: Blind in winter.
I can’t get all of this into one post. I treasure the time I spent with Shahzad, despite the fact that we never finished anything, and our worst qualities (never being able to finish anything, for one) just exacerbated the whole disaster. I grew to love the man; before his gigs he would ask for Allah’s blessing, and I would ask for Jesus’ blessing. We would pray that together. It sounds zany when you say that out loud, but religion always does. Then we’d walk across N. 6th street and get some Veggie Booty from a bodega. He also turned me on to marzipan candy.
Shahzad had such good intentions, and he had a beautiful aura, but he had an equally disarming fear of conflict and a crippling passivity. If you couple that with my over-sensitivity, perfectionism, and almost psychotic need to fail, well, you can see why we never finished the album. That led to friction with Shahzad’s roommate too, probably more than I ever knew.
I miss Shahzad very much.
To judge by a simple Google search, the man is still as active as ever on the scene. I’ve tried to search for recordings that were contemporaneous with the time I knew Shahzad, but had no luck. Some people I remember him playing with are Eyvind Kang, Arto Lindsay, Amir Ziv, and Barbez. I’ve forgotten countless others. In the end I have only his collaboration with Carla Kihlstedt (founder of Tin Hat, formerly Tin Hat Trio) called Heavy Oven. You won’t find this album anywhere, trust me. And it’s gorgeous. 55 minutes of experimental sounds laden with swirly violin melodies, dissonances, and vocal flourishes. The track “Dolor” is below.
Carla Kihlstedt most famously had Tom Waits guest on a track on the 2000 Tin Hat Trio album Helium. I couldn’t very well end this post without referring to something that cool, now could I? That track is below too, despite having no direct Shahzad relevance.