On record, they flavor their gloriously schlocky Indian cabaret-pop with blazing guitar fury, sizzling ribbons of synthesizer, bizarre tape effects, smooth disco violins that evoke a leisure lounge and breathe rah-rah-Rasputin, one particularly ominous loop of a stock villain cackling over and over again, and a full brass ensemble. Visually, they dress up in outrageous costumes, including one orange tunic, one sailor’s cap, and several Zorro masks. Each band member has given himself or herself a ridiculous spy-thriller alias, like “The Jewel Thief” (Josh Bennett, their multi-instrumentalist on sitar and tabla) and “The Kungfu Dentist” (Ros Jones, their trombone player).

What fun.įounded by conductor/saxophone whiz Andy Williamson, the Bombay Royale are eleven Australian troublemakers who play their own hammy, modernized style of Bollywood movie music. The song is called “Ankhiyan.” It opens the Bombay Royale’s second album, The Island of Dr Electrico. This all repeats itself once, with extra synthesized violins and camped-up saxophone interrupting every now and again to make some histrionic point, before ending abruptly on the same piercing guitar it started with. A balmy-voiced male singer begins to purr as the melody is played on a lower stringed acoustic a female voice briefly takes over as another faux-ominous trombone figure emerges the two singers keep trading off verses until an even more theatrical procession of strings and horn erupts, swooping down with all the extravagant fire of a veritable disco orchestra.

Then the drums come in, supported by thick drone. A high, piercing riff is twice ripped out of a harsh electric guitar before an intense blast of bass jumps out from underneath.

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