Born from the vibrant heartlands of northern Kerala, the Shanka Tribe has carved a unique niche in the Indian independent music scene. Their journey began in Kozhikode, where Munna P M and Joel Jackson, then college students and friendly drum battle rivals, found themselves wanting something beyond commercial gigs. With Libin Noby joining in, the seeds of what would then become Shanka Tribe were sown.
Over the years, Ashwin Lal, Sreeraj K, and, most recently, Hari Krishnan completed the circle, evolving the band into a five-piece ensemble that channels a shared philosophy — rhythm can connect what words often can’t.
The ‘tribe’ opens every performance with the blowing of the Shanku, a conch shell that signifies purification and awakening. For the band, it’s both a symbol and a ritual that invites the audience to a journey of connection and inner elevation.
Their latest EP, Umoja, which is Swahili for unity, brings together the beats of African Djembes, the meditative hum of Australian Didgeridoos, the melodies of West Asian Oud, and India’s very own Morchang.
Released as a single, a continuous 20-minute piece, it features their first Malayalam collaboration with vocalist Neha S Nair. As Umoja marks a new chapter in their 12-year journey, Shanka Tribe speaks to TNIE about their roots, their evolving sound, and how they translate complex ideas through instrumental storytelling.
Your music has evolved over the span of twelve years. What is your musical inspiration, especially when working in a niche genre?
Our inspiration always comes from life — the people we meet, the places we travel to, the stillness we find between moments. We never plan our sound. We just follow what feels honest at that time. As long as we stay curious, the music keeps evolving on its own. For us, sound is a living thing; it grows when you listen deeply.
You always work with several tribal instruments. How do you incorporate them with conventional elements like guitar and keyboard?
Every instrument we play has a personality. The Didgeridoo has a deep, earthy breath; the Handpan brings warmth; the Oud carries old-world stories. We spend time understanding how they respond to each other. There’s no formula; it’s about balance. We don’t want them to compete, but converse. When a tribal drum sits beside a synth, both should feel at home.
Umoja is built around the African concept of unity. As a band from Kerala, how did you come across this?
We realised that unity is a feeling that goes beyond borders. All our tracks carried that energy of connection between rhythm and silence, body and soul. The word Umoja captured it perfectly. Kerala too has traditions built around collective rhythm, from temple drums to folk rituals. So in a way, it felt like returning home through another culture.
As the Shanka Tribe is primarily an instrumental act, how do you ensure complex themes are translated through music alone?
Music already speaks a universal language. We use rhythm to express energy, melody for emotion, and space for reflection. When these come together, they tell a story that everyone can feel in their own way.
In Umoja, visuals add another layer, turning it from a composition into a sensory, meditative journey.
When we look back, in the early days, our music leaned heavily on live, organic trance and improvisation — raw, percussive, and rooted in energy. Tracks like When Nature Calls and Travelling Gypsies grew from those live jams and became key to shaping our sound.
Later, we began blending tribal grooves with modern production, giving our music more texture and depth.
Today, our creative process moves fluidly between stage and studio. We test ideas live, refine them in production, and bring them back with new layers. This has made our music more intentional, while still keeping the raw spirit that defines Shanka Tribe — a sound that connects across cultures without needing words.
What was the intention behind creating the EP as one continuous track?
We wanted people to experience it like a journey, not a playlist. Life doesn’t have cuts between emotions, so we didn’t want pauses between songs.
The uninterrupted format lets listeners sink into the flow, to forget where one track ends and another begins, and simply feel. The transitions between tracks are designed to be seamless, guiding you through waves of rhythm, stillness, and emotion.
At a time when most people listen to music in fragments, Umoja invites you to slow down, breathe, and experience music as one continuous moment — meditative, grounding, and alive.
What was it like collaborating with Rex Vijayan and Neha S Nair?
Rex has been a constant support since our early days. He brings a certain calm and depth to the sound. With Neha, her Malayalam vocals gave Karmi a grounded, human touch. She adds emotion that feels both intimate and universal. Their collaboration made Umoja more soulful.
How do you view the current landscape of music in India, specifically in Kerala?
It’s changing fast. Independent musicians are finding their own audiences now without depending on film or mainstream media. There’s so much experimentation and courage in the scene. Listeners are also evolving; they’re open to sounds that are different or spiritual in nature. It’s an exciting time to create.
How do you envision the band’s future? Do you foresee a crossover into cinema?
We’re open to any space where our music can breathe. Cinema would be interesting if it is aligned with our spirit. But our main focus will always be on creating immersive experiences — live shows, collaborations, and music that connects people beyond language.
Our path has been about discovery, not destination. For 2026, we’re currently planning a European summer tour, followed by an Australian spring tour, with plans to perform at major music festivals across the globe.