I still remember listening to “Back to Basics” for the first time. Within the first five seconds of the opening song, I knew I was hearing something special, and apparently, so did everyone else. “Kharku” and “Strawberry” absolutely ran the summer that followed. The album was immediately labelled a modern Punjabi classic, both in part due to Diljit Dosanjh’s crisp, powerful voice and Tru-Skool’s signature production value, marrying East Coast hip-hop and Punjabi folk in beautiful matrimony. In an era of UK Bhangra where electronic productions became more prominent, inspired by the increasingly popular EDM phase in Western music, the album deliberately leaned into live instrumentation and Panjabi musical traditions to create timeless work. This acclaim came fresh off the back of JK’s “Gabru Panjab Dha”, which also received similarly universal praise. Despite having created a culture-shifting album together, Dosanjh and Olk worked sparingly in the years thereafter, but always in concentrated bursts. Namely, a Spanish-inspired single “El Sueño” in 2017 to rave reviews and a 14-song film soundtrack for a 2023 Punjabi musical romcom “Jodi”, with actor-singer Nimrat Khaira. Less Nas and Preemo, more Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist, if you will.

If you believe in the Midas touch effect of Sukhjit Singh Olk as I do, you’ll know that he’s rarely missed a beat in his entire career. No matter who he collaborates with, whether it’s Ashok Prince, JK, Karan Aujla, or Dosanjh himself, his work often propels them into a different stratosphere of popularity. Their collaborations also act as a catalyst for artists to push towards bigger, more refined, and more globally appealing music. In the 14 years since their first album together, Diljit went on to trade the traditional bangs of the dhol for the warm, electric sounds of the 808. Think back to that R&B/trap, post-Bryson Tiller era of the mid-2010s. At the same time as he was leading the charge in developing the contemporary Punjabi Pop sound, embracing R&B, hip-hop, trap, folk-pop, and dance genres, he was also coming into his own as both an actor and producer in the Bollywood and Punjabi film industries. His multiple Billboard charting successes, stadium-filling world tours, and global brand ambassadorships afforded him the opportunity to present his Panjabiyat on the highest of stages like Coachella and the Met Gala. After cementing his position as one of the most exciting and established Punjabi artists of his generation, he’s come back to the foundational sound that made it all possible with a four-track offering (yep, you read that right—it’s literally 14 minutes long).

The EP wastes no time by beginning with “MORNI”—an explosive, high-energy performance that opens with a heavy dhol, a mean algoza/sarangi combo, and head-banging boom-bap drums. Dosanjh comes in and sets the tone with bright and commanding vocals, while a single-tone bassline keeps us locked in. Steeped in all types of Panjabi bravado imagery, Channi Nattan pens punchy and braggadocious lyrics on a song made to ring loud in a red BMW with a custom-built sound system. “HAAN DA” might be my favourite song of the year so far, and we’re only in May. In an unexpected but delightful twist, Tru-Skool dials down the rawness of “Morni” and delivers a nostalgia-led R&B/Hip-Hop beat, interpolating Carl Thomas’ “I Wish”. And it’s perfect. Despite the hard snare hits and groovy bassline, Dosanjh’s vocals remain front and centre in the loveliest way, charming and sweet-talking his way across the beat with effortless ease. A true contender for song of the summer—especially when you’re cruising in your car, with your boo in the passenger seat.

We move on to “AROMA”—which, by all means, is a quintessential, head-banging Tru-Skool production. This is one for the hip-hop heads. Dosanjh carries the song with a calm confidence, as he sings of true manhood, raw courage, and the intoxicating scent of smoke lingering after a fired gun. With such a dhol-heavy production and an unrelenting level of energy from start to finish, I have a feeling this will become the slow-burning fan favourite. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the real star of the song, an uncredited feature if you will—the lady who exclaims “Mainu Panjabi bol, mainu angreji ni aundi”. In my eyes, this is a clever dig at Dosanjh’s recent mainstream successes. For years, fans have criticised his recent musical choices, stating some of his crossover collaborations and lyrical content stray too far from what makes him, him. Now, I like “Bugatti zone, caviar with the cream cheese” just as much as anybody, but it’s no “nachdi ae alrhaan kuaariaan”, or even “teri ditti peed sambh di”. From this perspective, “mainu angreji ni aundi” can also be interpreted to say “we don’t know who you’re trying to be or where you’re trying to go.” That being said, whether certain fans like it or not, Diljit’s musical explorations have pushed the boundaries in what modern Punjabi music can be; it’s what made him the global force that he is. That’s how you get “Heer”, “Mahiya”, “Water”, “Whatcha Doin’” and “Lover”. I could go on and on. Nevertheless, the people—whoever they are—want what they want. “Panjabi bol!”, they yell.

And so he responds. There are three types of Tru-Skool productions you expect on a project like this: the pure hip-hop joint, the laidback joint, and the raw, pind-y, bond-phar type joint. “JEONA MORH” is just that. Dosanjh’s recent Chamkilla training came in handy for the intro to an absolute powerhouse of a finale. He sings the story of Jeona Morh—a 19th-century folk hero from Punjab, akin to Robin Hood, standing up against the injustices of society. While telling us of the pride and the bravery he brings to the community, Dosanjh also brings this effortlessly grittier, chesty, masculine shine to his voice, which actually makes it sound like he’s having fun. Maybe because he rarely gets to record a song that’s so perfect for him. It’s his most “Kharku”-sounding song since “Case”.

This EP is full of all the things you love about a Diljit record: sharp and versatile vocal performances, a balance between bravado and beauty in his delivery, and an undeniable charisma. It’s also full of all the things you love about a Tru-Skool production: rich with live instrumentation, groovy melodies, vinyl scratches, and inspired, yet modern hip-hop production, with incredible sampling and interpolation work. The singer-producer duo achieved in 14 minutes what a lot of duos can’t do in 40 minutes. The ability to lock in to this degree and create good work that resonates with both artists is remarkable. While I respect the quality of the music they produced together, I was expecting something a lot longer in length. I needed a few more tracks: slow things down for one or two songs, maybe reinterpret or cover a classic by Manak, Sadiq, Maan, or Bindrakhia, really explore the title of the EP, and bring something to the table we wouldn’t expect. Diljit’s quirky personality could’ve made for the kind of funny skits you’d hear in JK’s work. Even something in the vein of Juggy D’s “Akheer” would’ve worked massively well for him here. Regardless of what I felt was potentially missing, what’s there is incredible. Maybe Dosanjh simply needed an encouraging reminder of his remarkable folksy musicality. In which case, four songs was enough to centre him. If it’s any indicator of what’s in store for the pop star going forward, staying brave enough to push the boundaries of Punjabi music while staying true to his roots, I think we could bear witness to a generational run.