Bassbaba Sumon: Meaningfully 'Meaningless'

Even around 15 years ago, listening to a Bangladeshi band's full discography wasn't as simple as opening YouTube or Spotify. If you were lucky enough to own the album, great. Otherwise, you'd find yourself whizzing through piracy websites, or settling for whatever aired on the radio or TV.

Because of this limited access, many of my generation grew up believing Bangla band songs were just recycled narratives—endless tales of romance, rebellion and nihilism, with the occasional glimmer of hope. 

Aurthohin, though, felt somewhat different. 

Sure, their music touched on those themes, but for kids like me, who would return from school only to find the ceiling fan dead due to no electricity, their lyrics hit differently. When you heard lines like, "chaite paro shara raat ar shara din, hobe na je kokhono ar load shedding," it felt as though the music spoke directly to us. 

Their words weren't distant or abstract; the songs were relatable, refreshingly simple, and easy to grasp. It was music that felt like home, grounded in the same experiences we lived through daily. It's almost as if you could find meaning in a band whose name literally translates to 'meaningless.'

"The lyrics come straight from life," said Saidus Khaled Sumon, the founder, lead vocalist, and bassist of Aurthohin, better known as 'Bassbaba Sumon.' 

He continues, "One thing about me is that I can't write false lyrics. Every line reflects the truth—truth that we all witness in our everyday lives. I take those realities and turn them into lyrics, sometimes in allegories, sometimes as metaphors." 

With each album, our sound changes, but this time, the music will be drastically different as well. In fact, we're aiming to create a whole new genre with 'Phoenix er Diary 2,' which we're calling 'Bangla Nu-Rock'.

Vulgar, or just ahead of their time?

Like most Bangladeshi bands, Aurthohin hasn't been immune to lineup changes over the years. The latest was the departure of their longtime guitarist Mahaan Fahim, who stepped away due to medical issues, as announced at the woefully organised 'Legends of the Decade' concert last Saturday.

Yet, Bassbaba remains firm in his belief that these shifts haven't affected the band's quality. He insists that he chooses members not for their technical skill or fame, but for their mentality—whether they play for the love of music, for the fans, or with ulterior agendas. 

This, he believes, is why their music has always maintained its standard through evolution and was even bold enough to say, "I am not bragging, but no matter who joined us, I will say that each and every album of ours was ahead of its time. Our albums always polarised listeners. One group loved it, another group hated every word of it."

Bassbaba pointed to one particularly infamous track from Aurthohin's 2016 album 'Cancer er Nishikabyo'—'Nikrishto 3'. The nicest words in my vocabulary to introduce this fast paced, fiercely heavy song to the uninitiated is that it's the perfect message for a toxic ex. 

The lyrics don't hold back, bluntly calling her out for the pain and trauma she caused, while unapologetically slut-shaming her. But it also speaks of looking forward to better things ahead. It's raw, confrontational, and not for the faint-hearted.

"We faced unimaginable backlash for that song," Bassbaba recalled. 

"During a radio interview, I even openly challenged and predicted that in a few years, people would recognise Nikrishto 3 as the best track on the album. Now, looking back, fans are calling it exactly that."

Bassbaba, sticking to his stance, cited examples of explicit material in contents that Bangladeshis had gone on to revere. He pointed out Humayun Ahmed's novel 'Nishithini' had vulgar texts. 

He referenced Metallica's song 'Last Caress' from their 1998 album 'Garage Inc' where the lyrics read "I've got something to say, I killed your baby today; I've got something to say, I r***d your mother today," only to call out people on their double standards.

"People in Bangladesh hail Humayun Ahmed as nothing short of a god. Metallica is accepted as the metal gods of today. No one had issues with these but couldn't take it when we did the same, even though we had censored every vulgar lyric. Have none of us ever resorted to such thoughts and expressions out of anger and agony?" he retorted.

Bangla "Nu-Rock"

When asked about the future for him and the band, Bassbaba's response was full of excitement. Despite everything he's been through, he's still driven to create something fresh. This time, it's not just about new music—he's aiming higher. He's working to introduce an entirely new genre, which he's dubbed 'Bangla Nu-Rock.'

"There's a story forming in my mind for our upcoming album, 'Phoenix er Diary 2," Bassbaba shared. 

He continues, "With each album, our sound changes, but this time, the music will be drastically different as well. In fact, we're aiming to create a whole new genre with this album, which we're calling 'Bangla Nu-Rock'. I've already had discussions with Spotify about introducing this new genre and getting it featured on the platform," he revealed.

Expanding on the album's storyline, Bassbaba explained that it will merge real-life stories with the theme of the phoenix's rebirth. He envisions that if a phoenix continually goes through the cycle of spontaneous combustion and rebirth, it would likely end up in a deeply distressed mental state. 

In his view, a phoenix that rises to great heights, loses everything, and then regains it all, would inevitably become an egomaniac, someone consumed by hubris. 

"When we reach immense success, fame, or wealth, we often lose control and act crazy. People embezzle billions from banks and launder it overseas, leaving the banks drained. These things happen all around us in real life," Bassbaba remarked. 

Bassbaba's biggest contribution to band music?

Back in the day, Bassbaba had a studio opposite Dhanmondi's Abahani field which arguably produced more music for other Bangladeshi bands than for Aurthohin or Sumon's solo projects. Musicians from over ten different bands, including Artcell, Black, and Nemesis, recorded there daily, free of charge. 

When asked why he offered his studio for free, Bassbaba simply responded, "Because I wanted to change the music scenario. The band music scene was going haywire with many big names transitioning towards solo careers. We had to protect what was ours. I wanted to uplift the underground music scene."

Sumon personally funded the recordings, often paying Tk12,000-15,000 for mixing. He'd then take the finished tracks to G-series for album production, with bands like Nemesis and Cryptic Fate releasing albums this way, though he never sought credit for it.

As our conversation came to a close, I asked him one final question—was he successful in his attempt at keeping band and underground music afloat? This led to a brief exchange:

"Do you think Aurthohin, Nemesis, or Artcell could fill a stadium today if they wanted to?" he asked.

"Yes, absolutely," I replied.

"Then you have your answer," Bassbaba concluded with a satisfied smirk.