At one of Rain In Sahara’s earliest shows in 2019, the Guwahati nu-metal/electronic rock band started by broadcasting a message in big, bold letters: “This is an emergency,” the LED read as they stepped on stage. It wasn’t just for effect or metal posturing, but a message about the state of the Earth in the face of environmental decline. It was music for a cause.
Right from their debut single “Black Water” in 2019, Rain In Sahara have been delivering an eco-conscious message that urges action through activism. Founder, vocalist-producer and songwriter Lain Heringman says, “Making music without a message would feel incomplete. But we don’t believe in preaching or guilt-tripping. We believe in being real, being intentional, and creating space for people to feel, think, and connect. And if that sparks action, even better.”
The band is taking their message across four cities as part of the Tatakai (battle in Japanese) tour, alongside two fellow bands with a message. Meanwhile, Pune rockers Nemophilis are focusing on mental well-being, while Sri Lanka’s seasoned rock act Paranoid Earthling are singing about “the right to life” amid economic systems that have brought about “declining living standards.” Although the band doesn’t specifically mention Sri Lanka, packaging it more as a global problem, it’s safe to say that the message would resonate with the growing economic divide in countries like theirs and even India.
Paranoid Earthling’s frontman Mirshad Buckman says, “Collectively, all three bands, Nemophilis, Rain In Sahara and Paranoid Earthling, want to say that ‘You are not alone,’ whether you are battling an internal war with your mind, fighting to conserve resources that are fast depleting or being the voice for the voiceless.” The tour kicks off in Bengaluru on June 1, followed by shows in Hyderabad on June 8, Pune on June 11, and Mumbai on June 12.
A socially-conscious band like Rain In Sahara agrees that it’s an artist’s responsibility to advocate for a cause when they have the stage as a platform. “For artists who are aware of these realities [like climate collapse, inequality, conflict, big tech surveillance, digital-age disconnection], we believe there’s incredible power in expressing them through music and culture,” Heringman says.
This isn’t exactly a new phenomenon. From folk-fusion bands like Indian Ocean and Swarathma—who’ve long used their music as a rallying cry for social justice, environmental issues, and grassroots resistance—to the conscious hip-hop of Arivu, The Casteless Collective, Swadesi, and the viral protest rap of Sofia Ashraf, Indian artists have been torchbearers of music as a form of activism. These efforts have been instrumental in making the next wave of musicians feel empowered enough to continue demanding change and sparking dialogue. But given that we live in a time when online spaces are increasingly polarized, and silence is seen as indifference—or worse, complicity—it’s more important than ever that these movements take place on-ground and in front of live audiences.
Take the case of singer-songwriter Ditty, who has put causes like the conflict in Gaza, racism (as explored in her song “Kali”) and environmental sustainability (in “Money”) at the center of her shows and music. When she sang “Dunya (For Our Children)” at the Kantha Festival in Bengaluru in December last year—a then-unreleased song dedicated to Palestinian children affected by the conflict—she used the moment to address the audience directly. At the free, all-ages concert, she urged parents to think about the kind of world they wanted to create for the next generation.
Ditty believes there’s a fine line between being cynical, satirical and hopeful. She says, “I think the world will learn how to deal with what they’ve done or come to terms [with it] and change their ways. I think it’s going to happen at some point.” She’s quick to add, “If not, then, okay, too bad. But I have a lot of hope, and I think that that also drives me to write about these things.”
Singapore-based Carnatic-fusion singer-composer Sushma Soma believes her art is deeply intertwined with a message for the environment. Her gig series Home SOS was hosted in India and Singapore in early 2024, on the back of releasing her album Home in 2022. At her experiential show in Bengaluru, Soma put out a call to action to save the planet, asking how we can make more “conscious, earth-friendly choices” in our lives. Ahead of the show, she said, “I’m almost nervous because I’m no environmental expert, right? I’m not someone who studied it. I’m using music as my tool. I have to make sure that my facts are right.”
Sometimes you don’t even have to come from knowledge and research, like in Nemophilis’ case, when they are talking about mental health. Songs like “Breathe” and “Stronger” have plenty of arena-ready rock firepower in them, with a clear intent to highlight internal, psychological struggles. During their shows, there are moments where they share messages about the importance of reaching out and supporting each other. “It’s not a formal presentation or anything; it’s more like a heartfelt reminder that it’s okay to not be okay and that there are people who care,” Singh says.
Dr. Hansika Kapoor, psychologist and researcher at Mumbai-based institute Monk Prayogshala, says, “It doesn’t matter whether it’s in someone’s home, online, or in front of thousands of people. Even if the band is able to resonate with one person through these brief moments of mental health literacy or advocacy, it is certainly worth it.”
The common thread between all these artists is that they’re independent and going the DIY way when it comes to shows, clear-eyed about not letting their message get compromised in the face of brands or sponsors. Nikhil Udupa, co-founder of event management company 4/4 Experiences, points out that artists who are vocal about a cause will rarely get corporate and branded gigs. “We live in very politically sensitive times, everybody will be quick to take offense,” he says.
Udupa notes that while more “palatable, media-friendly” topics like mental health or educating the underprivileged tend to get a free pass, artists who address class struggle, politics, and inclusivity often find it harder to get booked.
He points to a larger systemic structure that would rather play it safe, often making it harder for artists to speak up. “Newer promoters and bigger agencies now have mandates in their contract as to what can be deemed offensive on stage, and having penalties for saying that,” he says. “I feel the big time promoters don’t want to mess with the brand money.”
Udupa adds that as the co-founder of 4/4 Experiences, the company behind gig series like New World Order and the crowdfunded festival Control Alt Delete, the message of an act is “very important” to him. “I do feel that the stage is a platform to make your music and your message be heard. Some might agree with it and some might disagree with it, but that’s not your [organizer’s] place to decide,” he adds. The company’s vision while curating gigs has often been to encourage artists to “say things people don’t want to listen to and push the message.”
Ultimately, all signs point to intimate, DIY shows being the best platform for music louded with a cause. Especially in contrast to a larger concert economy built on sponsors and brands that would rather play it safe, independent, smaller club shows continue to thrive as places to let your opinions erupt with a fist in the air.
Heringman from Rain In Sahara recognizes the music industry’s business machinations and how social media too is making musicians chase virality over depth in their messaging. “Not every artist is going to want (or even feel equipped) to carry a message, and that’s fine,” he says. “But what we do hope is that artists stay open, that they pay attention to the world they live in, and when something moves them deeply, they find the courage to express it authentically.”