Kapil Seshasyee is a British-Tamil artist known for blending R&B, South Indian classical music, and experimental rock. He has gained recognition through notable collaborations, including reworking a Ravi Shankar composition for BBC Asian Network’s celebration of Shankar’s 100th birthday.
In an interview with Asian Voice, Kapil discussed his upbringing with Carnatic music, his creative themes, and more.
Can you tell us how your British Tamil background and early musical influences shaped your sound as an artist?
I was born in Tamil Nadu and moved to the UK in the ’90s when I was a year old. My sister was born here. Growing up, I was surrounded by Carnatic music—my cousins, the Ragam Sisters, are well-known vocalists in Mylapore, Chennai. Watching them rehearse and perform inspired me from a young age to pursue music.
Although I didn’t start learning Carnatic music until much later, mainly because I grew up in a predominantly white area with little access to South Indian music teachers, my dad would often play artists like U. Srinivas, Kadri Gopalnath, and L. Subramaniam at home. These musicians, along with Bollywood and other Indian classics, deeply influenced me. Guitar wasn’t common in Carnatic music, so I found my path through listening and immersion rather than formal training. I also enjoy modern Carnatic vocalists like Sid Sriram.
You fuse R&B, South Indian classical, and experimental rock — that’s a rare and powerful mix. How did you arrive at this distinctive sound?
I grew up on Western rock, later got into jazz and R&B, and initially just wanted to be in a guitar-driven band. It wasn’t until my 20s that I reconnected with my South Indian roots and began experimenting with Carnatic music on guitar. As a self-taught musician, it was tough at first—I even gave up for a while. Eventually, I started posting daily Carnatic guitar videos. They didn’t take off right away, and some feedback was rough, but I kept at it. Over time, my content went viral on Instagram and TikTok. My sound evolved to blend rock, R&B, and Carnatic influences—artists like Solange and Frank Ocean helped shape that. I release music under my real name, so you can hear that journey in my catalogue. Now, every few weeks, I put out new tracks—each one carrying a bit of my Carnatic heritage.
What themes do you usually explore in your music, are there personal or political elements?
I’ve been an anti-caste musician for several years, and many who follow my Carnatic guitar work also know me for my activism. Though I grew up with caste privilege and didn’t face discrimination directly, I saw how deeply it affected friends, through marriage restrictions and social exclusion. Even in London, where much of my audience is, casteism still exists.
It’s often seen as a Hindu issue, but I’ve witnessed it across Sikhism, Indian Christianity, and parts of South Asian Islam. To me, it’s a broader cultural problem—and my music reflects that, along with themes like censorship, nationalism, and disability rights. I was inspired by a friend’s political music to bring more meaning into my own. Lately, I’ve been exploring more personal themes too. My track ‘Whose Bright Idea Was This’, which includes Tamil lyrics was inspired by my dad’s worry that I’d lose touch with my roots. I’m relearning Tamil now, and while my sister connects through language and travel, I do it through music. Identity isn’t binary—it’s layered. I’m finding my way back in my own way.
What's one message you'd like to give to young British South Asians artists to hear?
There’s no single way to connect with your heritage, and it’s never too late to do so. Many in Carnatic music start young, but I didn’t have access to formal training as a child, so I found my way back to my South Indian roots later in life. That journey is just as valid as someone who’s grown up immersed in the culture. Unfortunately, stereotypes exist—like when British South Asians are mocked for speaking Tamil imperfectly or called “whitewashed.” That kind of judgment can make people distance themselves from their identity. I know because I went through that myself for years. My message to other British South Asians, especially artists, is this: whether you fully embrace your heritage or reconnect with it later, your experience is valid. There’s no single right way to be Indian, and every path is worth respecting.
