Munz - he chose the name for himself in order not to give away his religion or caste to strangers - is the frontman of The Down Troddence (TDT), a folk-thrash metal band based in Bengaluru.
"Essentially, The Down Troddence is a passion project," says Munz, who has now along with his band gone on to release AYAKTHIS, which is making waves now. Among his fellow contributors in the album is the renowned Carnatic musician TM Krishna, another singer who is fighting casteism.
Thrash metal is an extreme subgenre of heavy metal music.
Besides Munz, the band features Varun Raj (lead guitar), Sushin Shyam (synth, sound design, vocals), Nezer Ahmed (bass guitar, lyrics, vocals), Ganesh Radhakrishnan (drums, percussion), Advaith Mohan (rhythm guitar), and Sangeeth Ram (manager).
Of them, Sushin Shyam has tasted success in Mollywood. Sushin was in 11th standard when Munz discovered him. The young prodigy has gone on to score music in popular Malayalam movies including Kumbalangi Nights, Minnal Murali and Manjummel Boys.
A native of Taliparamba
Born in Taliparamba in Kerala's Kannur district to Madhu Sudhakaran, an electrical engineer with a passion for music, and Rejitha Madhu, a theatre artist who has also played small roles in films, Munz, grew up in Kannur before shifting base to Bengaluru. He has a younger sister Thilana, who like himself and his wife Susan Theresa Davis, are designers.
Munz's parents had tried their best to give him training in various instruments like chenda, tabla, keyboard and formal Carnatic music. He has also learned Bharatanatyam. But he wasn't particularly good at any of them.
Munz believes he has been passed on the weaknesses of his parents: his father's bald head and his mother's anxiety.
Caste discrimination
Munz had been at the receiving end of caste discrimination -- he had seen everything from the derision of classmates to denial to enter temples, and above all, being pushed to the margins of society.
So for Munz, music is a retort to what life has thrown at him.
In a chat with The New Indian Express, he recalled an incident of discrimination he and his father underwent when he was a young lad.
One placid morning, an elderly man near their house passed away. It then fell upon Munz and his father Madhu to make arrangements for the funeral. They devotedly did so. But when the body reached the cemetery for burial, the kin of the deceased didn't want the father-son duo from a "lower caste" to be around. So, Munz and his father had to vacate the spot before the burial took place. This was in "progressive" Kerala.
Such experiences, Munz would later channel into his music.
For TDT, music is largely meant to provoke and scream at the face of inequality. This music is raw and unapologetic, meant to resonate deeply with the listeners, Munz said.
"Some things have to be said through screaming. If someone is sleeping, you can wake them up. If that someone is pretending to be asleep, we've to kick them awake." Munz noted.
TDT was formed in 2008 by Munz and his friend Varun as a bedroom project.
"I first met Varun during a youth festival. I was fascinated by the way he played the electric guitar and asked if I could take a picture with it. Thus we became friends. When he started playing guitar, I started growling. He had never seen anyone growl before, and he was really excited by it. This happened in 2005."
"In 2012, we moved to Bangalore. The reason for the move was that living in Kannur and trying to form a band was challenging. There was no gig or music scene in Kannur, and we felt we needed exposure," Munz said.
How the band was formed
Munz, Varun, and the then-guitarist of the band, Rinoy, went to watch a show of Aviyal in Trivandrum.
"When we saw Aviyal perform, we got inspired and thought we should start our own band," Munz said.
When he and Varun finished composing Death Vanity, (their first song the lyrics of which goes thus, Death Obsessive Vanity/
Crying in insanity/ Stop, breath Reality/ Why should you mad at Me.) they had to go to Ernakulam for the recording.
"At that time, we didn't know anything about recording. We then learned through some sources that there was someone in Kannur who had knowledge of recording, and that's how we met Sushin. At that time, Sushin was studying in 11th grade. We took him along with us to Ernakulam to record Death Vanity. Initially, I was against adding a keyboardist to our band, but when I saw Sushin play, I was amazed, and that's when I decided to include him in the band," Munz said.
Later, it grew into a full-fledged band with six members. They initially created music in isolation before finding a dedicated tribe of musicians to complete their lineup.
The band gained significant recognition in the Indian metal scene for their raw and politically-charged music.
When asked which metal band he would like to collaborate with, Munz quipped, "Scribe." He explains that Scribe is one of their biggest influences. There was a point when Munz sang one of their songs, "I Love You Pavbaji", on stage with them, and that was an amazing experience, he said.
In an interview Munz recalled that when they wrote their first song, "Death Vanity", they thought it was the pinnacle, that nothing could top it. But then they wrote "Shiva", which was also a huge hit. But then they thought it was a fluke. Then they wrote "Nagavali", and at that point, they began to consider the possibility of making an album.
Recollections
Munz's father is a music enthusiast and a big fan of Zakir Hussain. So he often went along with his father to get cassettes and one day in the shop, he saw a poster of the Vengaboys with their crazy-colored hair. Upon spotting the poster, he told his father, who only listened to Hindustani and Carnatic music, thus: "Oru veed ayal korach english music okke venam" (A home should have some English music too).
Back then in Kannur, it was easy to get the cassettes of Vengaboys and Backstreet Boys.
"If you paid Rs 20 at a music shop, they gave you a blank cassette, and with an additional Rs 50, they would record the songs of our choice," he said.
His friends introduced him to the likes of Nirvana and Linkin Park.
Further, when Munz's close friend Shani went to Coimbatore to study, he came back one day and said, "You have no idea, there’s a world beyond Backstreet Boys." Shani gave Munz ‘Bon Jovi’ and ‘Metallica’s black album on cassette.
By then, Munz had started writing down lyrics because, at that time, there was no internet.
When Shani returned the next time, he asked Munz, “You’re still listening to Bon Jovi and Metallica? There’s a band called System of a Down."
Eventually, Shani told him, "Stop listening to that and go back to the classics."
For Munz, metal is a good medium to channel many emotions: anger, political statements, and more. He explains that metal is a way to express things that need to be said in a certain way, like depression or war. There was no angry Malayalam music at the time only protests with slogans like "Inquilab Zindabad." That’s the only form of rage Munz could relate to before metal entered his life.
The band doesn't create music for money or to impress fans. They do it for their own sake, and if others can relate to it, fine, Munz said.
The band swept eight awards at the Rolling Stone India Metal Awards in 2014, including Best Album, Best Song, Best Band, Best Guitarist, and Best Artwork. The judging panel included two of the greatest metal musicians, Chris Adler and Alex Skolnick.
Munz says that guitar-driven or string-driven music has disappeared, and many things have changed. Since everything is available online, people are no longer investing in music. While gigs still happen, the position that metal once held, especially compared to today’s hip-hop culture, it does not hold anymore.
Initially, the band called themselves The Down Troddence to represent the oppressed. However, over time, they realized that being oppressed is not just about class or caste it’s about something much deeper. You can have all the privilege in the world and still feel helpless. This was a lesson Munz learned as he grew older, and it changed how he viewed the world.
Munz usually weaves the personal struggles of his community into his music. He is inspired by 'Pottan Theyyam,' the folk art form which symbolizes TDT.
"We relate a lot to 'Pottan Theyyam,' says Munz.
Pottan Theyyam is a reflection of TDT's political and social stance. The character of Pottan represents an individual who challenges authority and questions established norms," he points out.
Latest work
TDT's latest work, AYAKTHIS, (As You All Know, This Is How It Is) their album after a decade, has made waves, with its raw and uncompromising take on the socio-political issues of India. The album's themes span a wide range of topics, from casteism and racism to feminism and identity politics.
The first track from the album ‘Maharani’ is already out. It is a collaboration, as mentioned earlier, with the renowned Indian Carnatic vocalist, writer, activist, and author TM Krishna. This song represents a powerful fusion of metal and classical Indian music, bringing attention to significant political issues.
Maharani focuses on the Palestinian struggle, shedding light on the ongoing Israeli onslaught on Palestine. The song highlights the plight of the Palestinian people, drawing attention to the oppression and violence they face.
One of its most anticipated tracks, Ejjathi, to be released shortly, is a powerful commentary on casteism.
Describing the process of writing Ejjathi, Munz reflects on how the song came together almost effortlessly. It was deeply personal, inspired by his own experiences with caste discrimination, and written in just 30 minutes, A stark contrast to his usual, month-long process. The song paints a vivid picture of the caste prejudices hidden beneath the surface of modern, so-called progressive thinking, using the setting of a marriage proposal as a metaphor. The song opens with a conversation between a marriage broker and the groom’s father, revealing the ugly truth: despite claims of modernity, caste-based preferences remain ever-present.
The video for Ejjathi further amplifies its message. It portrays dowry deaths among women and features a man being kidnapped by armed individuals who, in a symbolic twist, are portrayed by Munz and his bandmates.
The video opens with the destruction of a matrimony office, setting the tone for a critique of the institution of marriage, its underlying social dynamics, and the rigid caste-based prejudices that continue to persist in modern-day India.
Music with a message, it certainly is. And Munz hopes to be making more of it in the coming years.