For more than two decades, producer Xulfi has built his career by finding emerging Pakistani musicians and bringing them to wider audiences.
Through the TV series Nescafe Basement, he has mentored young performers and brought singers and instrumentalists together in eclectic combinations. At Coke Studio Pakistan, he expanded that approach, shaping collaborations across generations, regions and genres, from Ali Sethi and Shae Gill on Pasoori to Eva B, Kaifi Khalil and Wahab Bugti on Kana Yaari.
Both songs became major streaming successes, with Pasoori entering international charts and the programme expanding beyond TV through Coke Studio Live concerts, curated by Xulfi, at Dubai’s Coca-Cola Arena in 2022 and 2024.
With Humnava, he changed the direction of travel. The project, whose Urdu name loosely translates as “of the same voice”, brought musicians from Algeria, Zambia, Germany and France to Hunza in Pakistan’s Karakoram Mountains, where they lived and recorded alongside artists from the region.
This month, Humnava completed the cycle of releasing 10 weekly tracks, starting with the instrumental introduction, Leher, in April.
Speaking to The National from Pakistan, Xulfi, whose full name is Zulfiqar Jabbar Khan, described the residency as part of a wider mission to make the country a destination for musical collaboration.
“I think Humnava was bound to happen because all my life I have been scouting talent, making music, collaborating with people, producing music and curating ideas and stories,” he says. “It was natural that a point would be reached when I had enough confidence to invite the world to Pakistan and help people experience this beautiful and diverse place.”
In the recordings, a fluid chemistry emerged between Algerian desert blues and Pakistani folk music.
One North African act involved was Tissilawen, an Algerian group that has built a following for more than a decade with a blend of Tuareg musical traditions and electric instrumentation (guitar, bass, percussion), and lyrics – largely sung in Tamasheq – that focus on the group's nomadic community and traditions.
Founding member and singer-guitarist Bakrin Timlfati says the difference between the styles was part of the appeal.
“The musical structure was different from North African folklore, but from my perspective, that difference was exactly what I wanted,” Timlfati says. “The aim was for those differences to come together in a harmonious and beautiful way.”
The setting also helped him concentrate on the work.
“I was excited and happy to bring desert blues to Hunza,” he says. “The environment did not negatively affect my work there. Quite the opposite. The atmosphere helped me work with greater precision.”
Timlfati says finding the rhythmic blend on the project was not as challenging as he had imagined. He heard a particularly familiar melody in Hairan Amanam, sung in Burushaski – a language spoken mainly in northern Pakistan – by Pakistani singers Rizwan Abbas and Maheen Sattar.
“It was one of the songs I was especially happy to contribute to because I was able to add a Saharan touch,” he says. “The song has a deep soul and a very sweet melody, similar to the melodies we have in North Africa, specifically in Algeria.”
Timlfati takes the vocal lead on Qataghani, which draws on a musical tradition associated with northern Afghanistan and the wider region of Central Asia. The track features rubabs – short-necked plucked lutes played by musicians from Hunza – alongside electronic bass and production by German musician Dorian Goetsh, and electric violin by French musician Blaise Merlin.
On Isekta, which the project translates as “souvenir,” Tissilawen’s circular guitar figures and handclaps form the foundation of an arrangement that also includes synth bass, djembe and vocals in Tamasheq and Arabic.
Xulfi says the artists needed to sing in their own languages, including Urdu and Arabic, where they could express themselves most naturally.
“When a language is the real story of an artist, and the medium through which that artist can be himself or herself, then it is not even a question,” he says. “The music and expression have to be real to have an impact. It is about telling the truth of the story, and language is often a very important part of that truth.”
The location was also central to achieving that authenticity, with recordings taking place indoors and outdoors across Hunza. The musicians remained there for several weeks, sharing meals, rehearsals and daily life as the songs developed.
“When you spend 38 to 40 days at a music camp and you are always surrounded by nature, you have no choice but to let your guard down,” he says. “You start understanding your sensitivities in a different way. Sometimes you connect to your childhood or uncover parts of yourself hidden beneath the layers that life gives us. When the music comes out, it becomes a representation of that.”
The song Noor-e-Nazar, sung by Pakistani artists Noman Asmet and Noorima Rehan, draws on a Hunza custom in which a newly married couple prepares roti together at the beginning of their shared life.
Holoyor, featuring Hunza musician Naveed Deevon and the Gojal Twins, looks back on childhood memories, with synthesisers by German electronic producer Dorian Jonas Goetsh adding modern touches to a backdrop of sitar, flute and acoustic guitar.
That range, Xulfi says, confirms his view that Pakistan’s geography and cultural diversity make it an ideal host for musical collaborations.
“When you want to know somebody better, you collaborate with them,” he says. “Your roots still matter, but through music you bring them forward and allow another person to understand them better.”
