All the way back in 2012 I took ‘Traveller’ to this beautiful Lyon festival Festival Les Nuits de Fourvière - Officiel. It’s genuinely one of my highlight performance memories and I’m so delighted to be heading back to this iconic festival on 18th July with ‘Chapter III’! For those who don’t know, we toured my Indian-flamenco album ‘Traveller’ for two years worldwide hitting a whopping 99 shows, all in the time immediately after I had my first baby! It was a mad and wonderful time and truly no joke putting a band together combining flamenco and Indian classical musicians, and finding ways for them to communicate without a shared spoken language and with differing musical idioms. Near the end of this clip you can hear my beloved Sanjeev Shankar- who we tragically lost a few months ago- beginning his plaintive shehnai solo over the cajon and moorsing groove. To return to this stage now, as I close the circle on my Chapters trilogy, feels perfect. I love summer shows like these and can’t wait to be sharing the new music in festival settings in Europe after our extensive North American run. For all ticket information, head to https://www.bandsintown.com/a/4761 outer/most In video: Sanjeev Shankar, Pirashanna Thevarajah, Israel Suarez, Melon Jimenez (fb)

7 April 1920… I’ve shared about my father on every major anniversary since he passed away over a decade ago. Today I’ve found my thoughts honing in on the memory of this song, written in the months before he passed away. My dear friend the incredible @nitinsawhney helped me take the poem in my diary- where my lyrics always begin- and carve it into what my genius sister @norahjones and I finally recorded live exactly thirty days after our father had passed away. (It was bittersweet for us to record a song about my unwillingness to let him go… after he had already gone) ‘The sun won’t set’- my father’s name Ravi translates to the sun. This was the crux around which the lyrics and their metaphors revolved. I tried to capture how it felt living in the extended shadow of my father’s sunset years. He had been repeatedly unwell with heart issues since I was a child, having by the time of his passing around twenty heart-related surgeries. In some ways this had made me ready for a certain eventuality since my early years- how could it not? But it also made me grieve for an imagined chapter of time where it might never have come to mind or been a factor in how we lived: we moved to California for his health; my first solo concerts in Europe aged 18 happened when my father got sick and I was sent in his place; I was told to be gentle as a child when I leaned on his chest. So yes, the idea of death had always cast a long shadow. But what that also did was make us LIVE. Would I have committed to learning from my father as a teenager the same way if I hadn’t worried later may be too late? Would I have stayed home as many evenings watching his favourite Hitchcock movies whilst holding his hand? Would he have worked as hard to bridge the distance between us that arose from him not being around in my early years? Today I honour and celebrate his memory in all the silly, beautiful, profound and mundane ways. Happy birthday Bapi x (fb)