The distance between a performer and an audience can be measured in vulnerability. For Shantanu Pandit, those metrics both serve to repel and compel, sometimes against his own instinctive self-preservation. To date, his rare live performances have served as a sometimes uncomfortable insight into the mundane, the momentous, and the morose. These vignettes of memories he both cherishes and exorcises allow his audience to relate to him, though perhaps unwillingly. And yet, rapt, they do. Since 2011 he has spent ten years honing his craft, either as a solo musician, a founding member of seminal Delhi four-piece Run it's the Kid or the spaces in between.
Milk Teeth is the cumulation of these iterative engagements and observations, a fabric woven from periods of pre-pubescent recollection and the sometimes unwelcome interface of adult assessment, hung on a body of lyrical transparency, lilting momentum, and lethargic arrangement. Four years in the making, the forthcoming release has been forged over escape routes and perhaps more than anything, a conflicted yet urgent need to present these stories to a public.