The border-busting birth of Punjabi country music

Five or so years ago, Amrit Singh kept catching glimpses of something that looked like home. He was doing customer phone support in Quebec, for a Canadian company that makes trail cameras, helping hunters, farmers and ranchers across rural North America troubleshoot their equipment.

In the camera images from the Texas or Tennessee countryside, he saw lush green expanses that reminded him of the wheat fields in his native Punjab, India. Chatting to fill the intermittent silences, the customers would ask Singh about himself and what he liked to do in his free time.

Outside his tech support job, Singh had been working for years as a producer in Canada’s thriving Punjabi music scene, blending traditional folk sounds with hip-hop beats and trap melodies. For all the cultural cross-pollination, though, he felt that his own music was lacking something.

So on his calls with the US, he would tell the customers that he hoped to make it as a musician, and would ask them what they were listening to. Not infrequently, they would tell him about country music.

When he started exploring the artists the customers mentioned, he said, something clicked.

“I got the sense that my story, what I want to say, the characters I wanted to create in different stories, resonated well with country music,” Singh, 31, said. “It felt like my lifestyle was always country.”

These days, Singh, under the stage name Assassyn, and the Canadian Punjabi singer Jaggseer are pioneering a new genre they call Punjabi country, racking up six-figure views on their music videos on YouTube and Instagram.

The fertile plains of Punjab are a world apart from the Appalachian Mountains, to which country music traces its roots. But as Singh discovered in those long customer service calls, though he wears the Sikh turban and has a different mother tongue, the two cultures aren’t so different.

“We’ve also been singing on tractors and in the fields,” he said. “The work of the farmer is the same in Punjab as it is in America as it is in Canada.”

For his first foray into country, Singh wrote a song about a woman who left him and moved to Tennessee — he had never been to the state, but a conversation with a customer there had embedded the name in his head. A Montreal-based singer-songwriter named Bobby John, his partner on the track, taught him the basics of country guitar strumming patterns and chord progressions and sang the English verses. Singh sang in Punjabi. He titled it “ Country Song ” — “so I would remember that this was the first one.”

“Country Song,” released last September, is sonically reminiscent of the modern, country pop ballads that appear on top 40 charts, with electric guitars over a hip-hop beat. On its face, it’s a typical break-up song: The hook, “Oh chad ke yaara nu chali oh Tennessee,” translates as “She left me and went to Tennessee.”

But “Country Song” might also be understood as a love letter to the US. The song is written from the perspective of a Punjabi trucker who knows the country’s landscape more intimately than most any native-born citizen. The lyrics take the listener on a cross-country journey, name-checking states and cities where Singh’s customers called from: The narrator can’t bear to drive through Dallas where he proposed, his ex has changed like the weather in Seattle, and the experience has hardened him like the Statue of Liberty. His old flame might have fled for Tennessee, but by the song’s end, he’s picked up a load and headed to Kentucky. Maybe, he sings in the final line, they’ll see each other eventually.

“Country Song” was an experiment, Singh said. It wasn’t until he followed it up with the song “ North America ” that he felt he achieved a true Punjabi country fusion. “North America,” with its banjo licks and fiddle interludes, is a breezy celebration of Punjabi presence on the continent. “Sikka chal da gabru da puray North America,” Jaggseer sings on the hook, which roughly translates as “Punjabi guys run North America.”

In the music video, shot on a friend’s farm in Canada, Jaggseer sports a cowboy hat and denim while Singh wears a black chest pack. The vibe is pure joy: The two perch on bales of hay, pet horses and ride around on tractors. In between the swaggering pronouncements, Jaggseer waxes poetic about dusty roads and Chevy trucks and reflects on humble beginnings and hard work. One line nods to Punjabi migrants who never made it across the border.

“North America” attracted wider attention online, particularly among second-generation Punjabi Americans and Canadians but also people outside of the diaspora. “@morganwallen shakin in his boots,” one user wrote on Instagram. “hook em!” said another.

Sprinkled within all the fire and cowboy emojis, though, were racist comments invoking US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) or stereotypes about Indians. And in keeping with country music’s well-worn tradition of gatekeeping, some commenters decried that this music didn’t qualify as country.

What makes country music country? Is it the string instrumentation? A vocal twang? A down-home, working-class sensibility? Is it music made by white people born below the Mason–Dixon line, as some in the industry would seem to suggest? Or, as the prolific songwriter Harlan Howard once put it, is it simply “three chords and the truth”?

Singh and Jaggseer, like Beyoncé and Lil Nas X before them, highlight an identity crisis afflicting modern country music. As Black, Hispanic, Indigenous, queer and now non-American, non-English-language artists lay claim to the genre, the country music industry signals covertly and overtly that they don’t belong.

Mainstream country has long been a bastion of conservative culture. Today, some of Nashville’s biggest stars have aligned themselves with (or shrewdly eschewed criticism of) a political movement that has denigrated countless demographic groups, including Punjabi immigrants. Recently, the US Department of Homeland Security posted an AI-generated image on X depicting Optimus Prime from “Transformers” facing off against a Sikh truck driver. “America for Americans,” the graphic read. “Get off our roads. You don’t know how to drive, Mr. Singh.” The post, which referenced a Punjabi truck driver charged last year in a fatal crash that killed three people, was removed after swift backlash .

Singh and Jaggseer — who works as a commercial truck driver himself — sometimes experience this kind of bigotry in the comments of their videos, though they try not to put too much stock in it. Their affinity for country music stems from the genre’s storytelling ethos and working-class roots, and they don’t feel they need permission to invoke its traditions.

“Punjabi music was already country,” Singh said. “But as soon as we start using Western rhythms and electric guitars, people say this music belongs only to them. We live here now. We’re one with the soil.” At one point in the conversation, as if to prove his point, he flipped the camera around to show a wide open field.

For Singh, Punjabi country opened avenues to tell simple stories about faith, love and heartbreak, specific to the experiences of Punjabi immigrants in North America. His ballad “ A Turban In the Church ” is sung from the perspective of a Sikh man grieving his white wife. After meeting at a gas station in Bakersfield, California, the two fell in love and moved to Texas. But when their tender relationship is cut tragically short, the man can’t seem to escape the rumors that he married for papers. Another ballad, “ Mother of a Prisoner ,” is from the perspective of a mother who longs to see her incarcerated son again before she dies.

Singh is serious about his craft, thinking long and hard about how to create a sound that feels recognizably country while retaining a Punjabi folk soul. Blending the two genres presents daunting technical challenges — for instance, transposing Punjabi lyrics, often sung in a moody, minor scale (known as Bhairavi thaat in North Indian classical music), to the upbeat, major scales predominant in country music. “ Goat Slaughters ,” a boisterous, blues-inflected anthem that declares Punjabis as a force to be reckoned with in country music, is one attempt at striking that balance. “ Yeehaa ,” a cheerful meditation on countryside life, is another.

“Whenever something new is beginning, you never know where it’s going to go,” Jaggseer said. “I personally don’t know. But one thing’s for sure, my sound is fresh.”

For now, Singh and Jaggseer are having fun experimenting and digging deeper into country music. Earlier this year, Singh posted an interpretation of Ella Langley’s No. 1 hit “ Choosin’ Texas ,” using the title to riff about leaving his village in Punjab to plant roots in Dallas. Lately, he’s also been drawn to Johnny Cash and his raw depictions of working-class struggles. Jaggseer said he plays country all day long on his trucking routes, though he doesn’t know all the names of artists or songs. “I’m still discovering it,” he added. “That’s the best thing.”

What’s next for Punjabi country? Singh and Jaggseer said they’re focused on building their audience and continuing to tell Punjabi stories, with several new songs planned for release in the upcoming months. And while he would welcome the opportunity to tour one day, Singh said his greater hope is that Punjabi country might open up doors for future generations of Punjabi artists: “I’ll be happy if from five to 10 years from now, some young guy can express himself through this music.”

Jaggseer said his goal is simply to make “good, high-quality music.” The ultimate dream, though? “A big, big ranch,” he said. “Forty, 50,000 acres. No neighbors.”

大约五年前，阿姆里特·辛格（Amrit Singh）总能瞥见一些似曾相识的东西。当时他在魁北克为一家加拿大公司做客户电话支持，这家公司生产野外相机，帮助北美农村地区的猎人、农民和牧场主解决设备故障。

在相机拍摄的德克萨斯州或田纳西州乡村的画面中，他看到郁郁葱葱的绿色田野，这让他想起了家乡印度旁遮普邦的麦田。为了打破偶尔的沉默，顾客们会和辛格聊天，询问他自己的情况以及他空闲时间喜欢做什么。

除了技术支持工作之外，辛格多年来一直在加拿大蓬勃发展的旁遮普音乐圈担任制作人，将传统民谣与嘻哈节奏和陷阱音乐旋律融合在一起。尽管文化交融不断，他仍然觉得自己的音乐缺少了些什么。

所以，在与美国客户通话时，他会告诉他们他希望成为一名音乐家，并询问他们在听什么音乐。他们经常会向他推荐乡村音乐。

他说，当他开始研究顾客提到的艺术家时，突然有了灵感。

“我感觉我的故事、我想表达的内容、我想在不同故事中塑造的角色，都与乡村音乐很契合，”31岁的辛格说。“感觉我的生活方式一直都是乡村式的。”

如今，辛格以艺名 Assassyn 与加拿大旁遮普歌手 Jaggseer 一起开创了一种名为旁遮普乡村音乐的新流派，他们在 YouTube 和 Instagram 上的音乐视频获得了六位数的点击量。

旁遮普肥沃的平原与乡村音乐的发源地阿巴拉契亚山脉截然不同。但正如辛格在那些漫长的客服电话中所发现的那样，尽管他戴着锡克教头巾，母语也不同，但这两种文化其实并没有那么大的差异。

“我们还在拖拉机上和田野里唱歌，”他说。“旁遮普邦的农民、美国农民和加拿大农民的工作内容是一样的。”

辛格首次涉足乡村音乐领域，创作了一首关于一位离开他搬去田纳西州的女子的歌——他从未去过田纳西州，但与一位当地顾客的谈话让他对这个州的名字印象深刻。一位名叫鲍比·约翰的蒙特利尔创作型歌手是他的合作者，他教辛格乡村吉他的基本弹奏模式和和弦进行，并演唱了英文部分。辛格则用旁遮普语演唱。他将这首歌命名为“乡村歌曲”——“这样我就能记住这是我的第一首乡村歌曲。”

去年九月发行的《乡村歌曲》在音乐风格上让人想起那些出现在排行榜前40名的现代乡村流行情歌，以嘻哈节奏为基底，配以电吉他。表面上看，这是一首典型的分手歌曲：副歌“Oh chad ke yaara nu chali oh Tennessee”翻译过来就是“她离开了我，去了田纳西州”。

但《乡村之歌》也可以被理解为一封写给美国的情书。这首歌以一位旁遮普卡车司机的视角写成，他对这片土地的了解远胜于大多数土生土长的美国公民。歌词带领听众踏上一段横跨美国的旅程，提及了辛格的客户曾打来电话的州和城市：叙述者无法忍受再次经过他求婚的达拉斯，他的前女友就像西雅图的天气一样变了，而这段经历让他变得像自由女神像一样坚韧。他的旧爱或许已经逃往田纳西州，但到了歌曲结尾，他已经装载了货物，驶向肯塔基州。也许，正如他在最后一句歌词中所唱，他们终有一天会重逢。

辛格说，《乡村歌曲》是一次尝试。直到他创作了《北美》这首歌，他才觉得自己真正实现了旁遮普乡村音乐的融合。《北美》以班卓琴的即兴演奏和提琴的间奏为特色，轻松欢快地歌颂了旁遮普人在北美大陆的存在。“Sikka chal da gabru da puray North America”，贾格西尔在副歌中唱道，大致意思是“旁遮普人统治着北美”。

在加拿大朋友的农场拍摄的音乐录影带中，贾格西尔头戴牛仔帽，身穿牛仔裤，辛格则背着黑色胸包。整部MV洋溢着纯粹的快乐：两人坐在干草垛上，抚摸着马匹，驾驶着拖拉机四处兜风。在略带傲气的宣言间隙，贾格西尔吟咏着尘土飞扬的道路和雪佛兰卡车，并回顾了自己卑微的出身和辛勤的奋斗。其中一句歌词还向那些未能越过边境的旁遮普移民致敬。

“北美”一词在网络上引起了更广泛的关注，尤其是在第二代旁遮普裔美国人和加拿大人中，但也吸引了非侨民的关注。“@morganwallen 吓得瑟瑟发抖，”一位用户在 Instagram 上写道。“加油！”另一位用户说道。

然而，在铺天盖地的火焰和牛仔表情符号中，也夹杂着一些种族歧视言论，比如提及美国移民和海关执法局（ICE）或对印第安人的刻板印象。此外，一些评论者还秉承乡村音乐界由来已久的“守门人”传统，声称这种音乐根本算不上乡村音乐。

是什么让乡村音乐成为乡村音乐？是弦乐的运用？是独特的嗓音？是朴实无华、工人阶级的情感？是像业内某些人所认为的那样，是由出生在梅森-迪克逊线以南的白人创作的音乐吗？或者，正如多产的词曲作家哈兰·霍华德曾经说过的那样，它仅仅是“三个和弦和真情实感”？

辛格和贾格西尔，就像之前的碧昂丝和利尔·纳斯·X一样，凸显了现代乡村音乐面临的身份认同危机。随着黑人、西班牙裔、原住民、酷儿以及如今的非美国籍、非英语母语艺术家纷纷声称自己属于这一音乐类型，乡村音乐产业却或明或暗地表明，他们不属于这个范畴。

主流乡村音乐长期以来一直是保守文化的堡垒。如今，纳什维尔的一些巨星要么与某个政治运动结盟（要么巧妙地回避批评），而该运动贬低了包括旁遮普移民在内的无数群体。最近，美国国土安全部在X网站上发布了一张人工智能生成的图片，图片中《变形金刚》中的擎天柱与一位锡克教卡车司机对峙。图片配文写道：“美国属于美国人。滚出我们的道路。你不会开车，辛格先生。” 这条帖子影射了去年一起造成三人死亡的致命车祸中被起诉的旁遮普卡车司机，在遭到强烈反对后被删除。

辛格和贾格西尔（他本人也是一名货车司机）有时会在视频评论中遇到这种偏见，但他们尽量不去太在意。他们对乡村音乐的喜爱源于这种音乐类型的叙事精神和工人阶级根基，他们并不觉得需要获得许可才能引用乡村音乐的传统。

“旁遮普音乐原本就是乡村音乐，”辛格说道，“但当我们开始使用西方节奏和电吉他时，人们就说这种音乐只属于他们。我们现在生活在这里，我们与这片土地融为一体。” 谈话间，他仿佛为了佐证自己的观点，将镜头转向一片开阔的田野。

对辛格而言，旁遮普乡村音乐为他打开了讲述关于信仰、爱情和心碎的简单故事的大门，这些故事都与北美旁遮普移民的经历息息相关。他的民谣《教堂里的头巾》以一位锡克教男子的视角，讲述了他痛失白人妻子的故事。两人在加州贝克斯菲尔德的一个加油站相遇，坠入爱河，并搬到了德克萨斯州。然而，这段美好的爱情却以悲剧的方式戛然而止，这位男子始终摆脱不了关于他为了获得合法身份而结婚的谣言。另一首民谣《囚犯之母》则以一位母亲的视角，描绘了她在临终前渴望再次见到身陷囹圄的儿子的场景。

辛格对自己的音乐创作一丝不苟，反复思考如何才能创造出既具有鲜明乡村音乐特色，又保留旁遮普民谣灵魂的独特音色。融合这两种音乐风格面临着巨大的技术挑战——例如，将旁遮普语歌词（通常以忧郁的小调演唱，在北印度古典音乐中被称为拜拉维塔特）移植到乡村音乐中常见的欢快的大调音阶上。《屠羊》（Goat Slaughters）是一首喧闹的、带有蓝调风格的赞歌，宣告旁遮普人在乡村音乐界拥有举足轻重的地位，正是他尝试寻求这种平衡的一次尝试。《耶哈》（Yeehaa）则是另一首描绘乡村生活的欢快歌曲。

“每当新的事物开始的时候，你永远无法预知它会走向何方，”贾格西尔说道。“我个人也不知道。但有一点可以肯定，我的音乐风格是全新的。”

目前，辛格和贾格西尔正乐于尝试和深入探索乡村音乐。今年早些时候，辛格发布了他对艾拉·兰利的热门歌曲《选择德州》（Choosin' Texas）的改编版本，他借用歌名讲述了自己离开旁遮普邦的村庄，在达拉斯扎根的故事。最近，他也被约翰尼·卡什及其对工人阶级奋斗的真实描绘所吸引。贾格西尔说，他每天在卡车运输途中都会播放乡村音乐，尽管他并不认识所有的歌手或歌曲。“我还在探索，”他补充道，“这才是最棒的地方。”

旁遮普乡村音乐的未来发展方向是什么？辛格和贾格西尔表示，他们专注于扩大受众群体，并继续讲述旁遮普故事，计划在未来几个月内发布几首新歌。辛格表示，虽然他很乐意有一天能进行巡演，但他更大的愿望是旁遮普乡村音乐能够为未来的旁遮普艺术家们打开大门：“如果五到十年后，有年轻人能够通过这种音乐表达自己，我会非常高兴。”

贾格西尔说，他的目标很简单，就是创作“优质的音乐”。至于他最终的梦想？“一个很大的牧场，”他说。“四五万英亩。没有邻居。”