A Grammy Vote Is Earned Through Market Impact And Strong Narratives

Bobby Baskaran is a name etched into the foundation of India’s independent rock movement. As the co-founder and original bassist of Moksha—one of the country’s most iconic rock bands—he helped define a genre before it had a place in the mainstream. Today, as a Grammy Voting Member, he brings decades of sonic instinct and cultural fluency to the global music stage.

In an exclusive chat with loudest.in, Grammy voter and Moksha co-founder Bobby Baskaran reflects on his journey through Indian rock and global music, offering sharp insights on authenticity and evolution.

Here are edited excerpts:

Q1. You've worn many hats—from founding member of Moksha to Grammy voting member. How has your journey through Indian rock evolved alongside the global music industry’s changes?

Absolutely—it’s been a wild, beautiful ride. When we started Moksha in the late '90s, Indian rock was still underground, almost like a secret society. There were very few platforms, and we were literally building stages and audiences as we went. But we had heart, and that heart connected with people. Globally, rock was evolving too—moving from grunge into more experimental forms, and I think we mirrored that spirit in India. Fast forward to now, as a Grammy voting member, I see how the landscape has gone from analog to algorithm. But through all the changes, authenticity has remained the golden thread. Whether it's an indie artist from Chennai or a chart-topper from LA—if the soul is in the music, it resonates.

Q2. Moksha was a pioneer in shaping India's independent rock scene. What do you think today's indie musicians can learn from that era, both musically and in terms of hustle?

The biggest lesson is: do it yourself, but do it with intention. Back then, we didn’t wait for a label or a YouTube channel to “discover” us—we printed our own merch, booked our own gigs, loaded our own amps. That hustle taught us resilience and respect for every part of the ecosystem. Musically, we weren’t afraid to be Indian and rock at the same time. We fused Carnatic with progressive rock not as a gimmick, but because it was who we were. I’d love to see today’s artists push boundaries like that—lean into their roots while experimenting freely. Because that’s where the magic lives.

Q3. As someone who now contributes to the Grammy selection process, what qualities or trends do you look for in music that stands out on a global scale?

What stands out—always—is truth. I listen for that emotional fingerprint in a song: is this just well-produced, or is it coming from a place of real experience? The world is flooded with technically perfect music, but the tracks that stay with you are the ones that say something new, something personal. And increasingly, we're seeing diversity in sound and language making waves globally. A track sung in Zulu or Tamil can now trend worldwide if it hits the heart. So I look for uniqueness, conviction, and something I haven't quite heard before. It doesn’t have to be big; it just has to be real.

Q4. Rock in India has often been on the fringes compared to Bollywood or regional music. What do you think is the next frontier for Indian rock—fusion, digital revival, or something else?

I think the next frontier is community-powered digital ecosystems. We’ve seen hip-hop explode in India because it found cultural and technological momentum. Rock needs that same injection—maybe through immersive formats, maybe via regional language rock acts, or even NFTs and blockchain-based fan engagement. But more than anything, it needs new stories. The angst of Indian youth is very different now than it was in 1999. If new rock bands can channel today’s truth—whether that’s climate anxiety, identity, or AI overload—they’ll be doing what we did in our time: capturing the spirit of a generation.

Q5. Looking back, is there a moment—either on stage with Moksha or behind-the-scenes in your industry work—that defines why you continue to do what you do?

Yes—there’s one that still gives me goosebumps. We were playing at IIM Bangalore in the early 2000s, and after the gig, this young guy walked up to me, shook my hand, and said, “I didn’t know Indian music could sound like this. I want to start a band now.” That was it. That’s the power of music—to ignite something in someone, to make them believe. And whether I’m mentoring a young artist or casting a Grammy vote, that moment reminds me why I’m here: to keep that spark alive.