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Lose your head with Tika and The Dissidents
Tika and The Dissidents have been playing a string of local gigs in the run up to the release of their new album The Headless Songstress, which became available for you to own on Friday, in record stores and through all good distros
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T
ika and The Dissidents have been playing a string of local gigs in the run up to the release of their new album The Headless Songstress, which became available for you to own on Friday, in record stores and through all good distros.
In a time when creativity has been eclipsed by corporatism, when you're most likely to hear the latest manufactured hit on a cigarette ad, and when miming along to said hit on a TV special sponsored by said cigarette company passes for a cultural performance, Tika and The Dissidents are everything that is right with contemporary music - original, entertaining and indeed very talented.
With an endless parade of pre-packaged prima donna pop princesses polluting the airwaves, Tika is undoubtedly one of the best the vibrant Indonesian independent music scene has to offer.
"I'm so happy, it is every musician's dream to perform on a stage like this," the enigmatic artist said with more than a hint of sarcasm at a recent appearance at a Jakarta mall, her warm stage presence in stark contrast to the scripted speech of the official crowd warmers and the cigarette girls milling about.
"There's a lot of people in my band, and my management keeps crossing their fingers that I won't say anything that could get us all in trouble when we perform."
Tika's sound has evolved on the second album, progressing from an ambient groove you'd probably label trip-hop - "my love has always been hip hop" - to something quite difficult to pigeonhole. Joined by backup band The Dissidents for the first time on record, the drum machine has been replaced by flesh-and-blood beat-maker Okky Rahman Oktavian, and an upright bass, plucked by Susan Agiwitanto, has been added, giving the tunes a richer tone. Angelic backup singers accentuate Tika's honeyed voice, and watching the four play off each another at live shows is truly a delight. Keyboardist Luky Annash rounds out the now permanent lineup, which Tika says has had a major influence on her music.
The result is a sound reminiscent of a debauched 40s jazz club, the classic coil microphone, affectionately named Nina, adding to the effect.
"She is special," Tika explains. "I modified her so she's customized for my voice character but I don't use her on every stage. Only in controlled environments. The pickup is amazing, but the gain is low. I know my mics, it's important," she adds with a laugh.
But this is no retro effort. The raucous, almost militant, but indeed incredibly jovial sound, is punctuated with a bullhorn, its feedback adding layers to the thick, carnivalesque atmosphere.
"I go through phases just like everyone else. It's an ongoing searching process and I try to just be like water that can fit to any cup, as long as I'm feeling it."
The lyrical content of the new album continues to reflect the artist's sheer disdain for homogeneous popular culture.
"My inspiration comes from life, books, films, but mostly from stuff I see on television that makes me go *what the f**k!?' I don't own a TV at home, I gave TV up in 2004. But you can't get away from them, they're everywhere you go, and every time I catch a glimpse at like a warung padang or the lounge at the studio, there's always something so ridiculous on that intrigues me to make new lyrics and make fun of it."
Tika is fond of playing the song "Genjer-Genjer" at her live shows, but says there is a misconception that needs to be cleared up.
"*Genjer-Genjer' is not the anthem of the Indonesian communist party, but 90 percent of Indonesians think it is and they're afraid of the song thanks to Soeharto's brilliantly twisted propaganda," she says.
"It's a folk song from Banyuwangi, about a vegetable called genjer. Its lyrics have no political connotations whatsoever. The reason I love performing it is to melt the stigma that the song is scary, to sort of *descaralize' it, in a way, because the more you are slowly exposed to something you fear, the less you fear it.
"So contrary to some people's beliefs, I am not trying to resurrect the PKI, I am not a communist. I don't believe in any organized ideologies but I do believe that is a beautiful song, and it deserves to be sung."
Frozen Love Songs, the artist's 2005 d*but, came out on Aksara Records. The Headless Songstress, however, will be an independent release, after a split with the indie powerhouse that Tika says was amicable.
"Me and Aksara have more than just a label-artist relationship. They practically raised me, so they're like family, like parents. But I just happen to be this disobedient child compared to my other *siblings,' perhaps. So I moved out of the house because I feel we have given and taken enough from each other. It's time I go out on my own."
Tracks from the debut, repackaged, aptly, as Defrosted Love Songs, are available as free downloads on Tika's Website.
Independently releasing the new album, however, means the band has been run off their feet. "We gotta do everything ourselves. This past week I've been working flat out almost everyday."
The producers of The Headless Songstress - Zeke & the Popo guitarist Iman Fattah and Nikita Dompas - have described it as "like a carnival after closing at night". Iman has said that he believes it could be one of the most unusual local efforts - ever.
For more on Tika and the Dissidents, including information on upcoming shows, visit: http://suaratika.com
