Life at the end of 2024 is a strange mix of relying on AI to run your intellectual chores while wondering whether it’ll replace you entirely by dusk. In this age of tension—where romantic, complacent nostalgia often battles innovation and progress for cultural order, Peter Cat Recording Co. makes the case that the two can coexist, not just in harmony but in defiant interdependence. The Delhi-based quintet—helmed by the enigmatic Suryakant Sawhney, whose dual persona also powers his Hindi solo project Lifafa—has spent over a decade making music that defies easy categorisation.
Seeing an Indian band as niche as PCRC pack the house at Paradiso, one of Europe’s most iconic venues is more than just a personal victory—it’s a testament to how far independent Indian music has come. So much so, that it’s hard to find a real parallel to PCRC in the Indian indie scene. While When Chai Met Toast leans into warm, feel-good acoustic melodies, Peter Cat. flirts with the theatrical and avant-garde, blending old-world cabaret, gypsy swing, and Bollywood’s orchestral past. Bands like Avial and The Raghu Dixit Project modernized Indian folk, and Indian Ocean fused it with spiritual rock, but PCRC don’t just incorporate tradition—they dissect it, mix it up, and stick it back together, like musical surgeons with a bottle of mischief and a glue-gun.
Does it work? Absolutely.
Beta is a dreamscape where eras, influences, and geographies blur. The album opener “Flowers R. Blooming”, is a pastoral ode that swells with orchestral strings and shimmering textures, invoking both Indian countryside nostalgia and European cabaret’s ethereal charm. Beneath its vibrance lies a touch of theological rebellion, “Thinking there’s a God laughing above / Oh, he’s a sinner for letting us lose,” he croons, turning divine justice on its head.
The tone shifts with “People Never Change,” which introduces Punjabi folk rhythms layered with dholak beats and a disco pulse. The track feels both rooted in tradition and simultaneously experimental, as Sawhney’s lyrics dive into defiance and transformation: “People never change, but I will/Cause I never give a fuck that I’ll never be enough.”
Lyrically, the band also likes to play around with themes of memory and existential wonder. Sawhney’s reflections on gratitude thread through the record, with some of the most poignant songs inspired by moments of intense love—for his wife, friends, or life itself. Throughout, Sawhney’s hypnotic voice—the subject of both reverence and critique—anchors the swirling arrangements. “It’s taken me years to mould a voice,” Sawhney admitted. “But the goal has always been to sound singular, to be recognised as me.” Indeed, his baritone has become the emotional nucleus of PCRC’s music, described by fans as cinematic and haunting. Yet, Sawhney himself resists such labels, saying, “Authenticity isn’t about sounding cinematic; it’s about being singular, about sounding like yourself.”
View this post on Instagram
From performing in smoky Delhi bars to headlining sprawling venues, PCRC’s rise mirrors the growing global appetite for non-western indie music. Yet, for Sawhney and his bandmates, the focus remains on the art rather than the accolades. “Playing for larger crowds is gratifying,” he says. “But the music is always the point—not the result.”
I asked fans on the packed Paradiso floor about their favourite songs on the new album. No surprises: two of the most common picks were Foolmuse and Suddenly. The latter is Sawhney’s intimate reflection on love, loss, and the passage of time. Set against a backdrop of subtle percussive flourishes, the tune captures the mixing of grief and gratitude. What begins as a tender tribute to his late father evolves into a celebration of his mother’s quiet strength (Oh she made it/I couldn’t tell her how proud I’ve become). Foolmuse is a different story. Written by Kartik Pillai, aka Jamblu, the album’s fourth track explores the turbulence of being captivated by someone who simultaneously empowers and diminishes you. Can longing exceed self-preservation? The lyrics reflect a problematic vulnerability, as the narrator offers themselves fully (you can use me, hit and abuse me/and I’ll make you happy) while grappling with the imbalance of desire and control. The song recreates the tug-of-war between resigned, drunken self-awareness and a willing surrender.
Each member of the quintet is a creative powerhouse in their own right, but under Sawhney’s leadership, the band finds balance, allowing Foolmuse to spotlight Pillai and giving the entire group room to shine. Dhruv Bhola takes center stage on the hauntingly beautiful “I Deny Me,” showcasing the band’s versatility. Karan Singh’s hypnotic drumming, Bhola’s textured bass lines, and Rohit Gupta and Pillai’s orchestral touches all add to a sound that feels collaborative yet cohesive. The result is music that feels like a living organism—constantly growing, shifting, and surprising. “We’re not chasing legacy or big venues,” Sawhney explains. “It’s about moving the music forward and being part of something larger.”
Despite the eclecticism of their influences, PCRC’s ethos is rooted in folk. “Folk music doesn’t die,” Sawhney muses. “It evolves.” This belief defines Beta, where Indian folk elements blend with electronic experimentation. The band’s journey has always been about balancing the acoustic with the electric, the analog with the digital. “Music genres are defined by the technology of their time,” Sawhney explains. “I’m interested in experimenting with both old and new technologies.” The result is a sound that feels universal yet surely Indian, transcending the limitations of both. Whether it’s the harmonium-like drones on “Memory Box” from their second studio album Bismillah, or the echoes of R.D. Burman’s orchestral playfulness we hear now, the band’s music remains connected to home—pushing experimentation to redefine what Indian music can be on the world stage.
Central to PCRC’s identity is Sawhney’s inner linguistic divide. As Lifafa, he sings in Hindi, exploring cultural identity and urban alienation through minimalist electronica. “Your language defines your view of reality,” he reflects. “Writing in Hindi or English doesn’t just change the sound—it changes how you experience life.” Yet, this duality isn’t fixed. “Eventually, I will combine the two, because that’s who I am: a combination of both,” Sawhney reveals, hinting at a future synthesis. This tension extends to the band’s creative ethos: where Lifafa is more personal, PCRC revels in collective energy, with each member contributing quirks and textures to their evolving sound.
But PCRC’s creative process isn’t always smooth sailing. Sawhney admitted during our chat that knowing when a song is finished is often elusive. “We often ruin songs by overdoing them, and sometimes we’re lucky enough to stop early. There’s no one to tell us ‘no,’ which can be both freeing and challenging.” Indeed, freedom comes with its own burden and this tension between chaos and control imbues Beta with its vitality. Tracks evolve unpredictably, some threads unravel, their layers unfolding like stories within stories, making each listen a revelation.
In a scene long dominated by music from Hindi cinema and regional traditions, the band’s success represents a pivotal moment for the Indian music landscape. Their ascent signals the arrival of an unapologetically cosmopolitan sound that doesn’t just its roots. “We didn’t dream of selling out venues,” Sawhney remarks. “We just wanted to make music that felt true.”
Peter Cat Recording Co. carves a quiet space for Indian cool, through charming contradictions: timeless yet modern, chaotic yet controlled, deeply Indian yet universal. For urban youth, they offer a soundtrack that bridges tradition and modernity; for the diaspora, they reframe Indian identity with moments of connection. Their DIY ethos inspires with quiet rebellion, inviting us to look back, forward, and, most importantly, to be present. As Sawhney puts it, echoing Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence: “It’s always about connecting the past to the present and the future. That’s where the magic happens.” It’s hard to disagree.
Yuvraj Nathani is Founding Editor at ALMA Magazine. For more, follow him here.
