Jai uttal’s
LEGACY OF SONGS

Best Album of 2025: “DESTINY! The Adventures of Jai Uttal & the Pagan Love Orchestra: LIVE!!!” by Ira Israel

“Destiny” is not a random live record; it is a document of a long‑running experiment in cross‑cultural, cross‑genre devotion that after 35 years feels like it was created or channelled this morning.

I really admired the innovation and passion of Florence + the Machine’s “Everybody Scream” CD, but the album of 2025 that knocked me off of my feet was “DESTINY! The Adventures of Jai Uttal & the Pagan Love Orchestra: LIVE!!!”

Firstly, when I write “album” instead of “CD,” I mean “album” in the sense that “Kind of Blue” or “Dark Side of The Moon” are really symphonies cut into two parts. So I do not mean “Best Album of 2025” in the casual, end‑of‑December, “cool bunch of songs” thrown together on a CD sense. I mean, this album has been functioning as a daily spiritual practice, a nervous‑system reset, a moral compass, a reminder of who I am beneath the hardened exterior I need to survive in this mad world and who I am tasked with being in this lifetime.

Since its release, I have listened to “Campfire Sri Ram” and “Rama Rama Ram” every single day. Singing along with these kirtans has not been a hobby; it makes me a better me, someone capable of devotion, humility, tenderness, and courage. The first time I played “Campfire Sri Ram,” I broke into tears, a full-on, “Oh, right, this is what my heart sounds like when it’s not protecting itself” cry. Something in Jai’s and Prajna’s voices — the mixture of vulnerability and grounded devotion — slipped past my cognitive defenses and went straight to the part of me that still believes in goodness and love.

Jeff Cressman’s mix is stunning, magical, vibrant and rich. The Freight and Salvage stage makes it feel as if you have walked into a warm room where eleven people are absolutely in sync with each other, playing as one unit, and genuinely enjoying themselves. The sum is greater than its parts. The percussion has that perfect blend of precision and earthiness; the bass sits exactly where it should — supportive, steady, authoritative. The harmonium breathes and the strings shimmer. This is a live album that preserves and recreates the authenticity and rawness of that night in Berkeley.

And then there are the highpoints that ambush your senses:

– Prajna Vieira’s vocals are mellifluously haunting. She doesn’t decorate the melodies as much as incarnate them. Her harmonies and responses to Jai feel less like backing vocals and more like a balancing feminine consciousness — luminous, divine, slightly otherworldly. At certain moments her voice hovers above the band in a surreal way that stop me in my tracks wherever I am.

– Peter Apfelbaum’s saxophone manages to be devotional, complementary and improvisational without any self‑indulgence. His phrases and solos feel like another form of prayer — sometimes a wail, sometimes a whisper, sometimes an ecstatic commentary on the mantra itself.

While the musicianship is world‑class across the board, the gravitational center of this album is, of course, Jai Uttal. What distinguishes Jai is not just his musical pedigree or his decades of immersion in Indian classical music and kirtan; it is the reverence — real, lived bhakti that you can hear in his voice. Jai’s love for and commitment to his guru Neem Karoli Baba saturate this recording. There is nothing abstract about it; the relationship is audible. You can hear the years of practice, doubt, surrender, and return. For listeners who have guides or beloved spiritual teachers, the grace and gratitude of this album will be instantly recognizable.

I asked Jai how this album came about and his reply revealed why “Destiny” feels less like a product and more like a career culmination.

“Thirty‑five years ago I released my first album, Footprints. Most of the music was created in my attached garage, using the cheapest and lowest‑fidelity sampler and sequencer available on the market. I never expected that anyone would actually listen to this music, much less appreciate it. I enjoyed making the album and that was enough.

When I started to get rave reviews and concert requests I panicked. Although I had a clear musical and spiritual vision, I didn’t have a clue how to manifest that vision. Several years earlier, I had met some amazing musicians in my cover band, The Motofonics. Really, they were way too good to be in a Motown cover band, but we all needed to make some money and we connected on some invisible level. So when the time came to actually do a concert, I called them, gave them copies of Footprints, and asked if they would be interested in performing the music. Much to my surprise, they said yes.

This handful of musicians quickly evolved into The Pagan Love Orchestra, an 11‑piece band playing the most outrageous combination of Indian music, kirtan, jazz, reggae, rock and the rest of the kitchen sink. At the time, no one was doing this.

Over the course of these last three and a half decades we’ve had so many crazy adventures together and so many cathartic and blissful musical experiences. Although some band members have changed, the core group remains the same. There were times when we performed quite often and there were other periods when the band was on the back burner. But we never lost touch with each other and our friendship grew and grew. Now, The Pagans have become my loving extended family.

Last February we performed our annual Valentine’s Day concert at The Freight, in Berkeley, California. I asked the couple behind the sound board if they could make a multitrack recording of the concert, thinking we might have one great song to release as a single. The concert was revelatory. It was as if a wave of unity flowed over all the musicians and the audience. There were deep soulful tears, and even deeper belly laughs. It was an awesome night.

We listened back and loved what we heard. The great vibe of the concert came through loud and clear. So I said: “Let’s make an album. Let’s not work too hard, get obsessive or be perfectionists. Let’s just go with the rough mixes without overdubs or ‘fixes,’ and see what happens.”

And this is what happened: Destiny! The Adventures of Jai Uttal & The Pagan Love Orchestra LIVE!”

Knowing this history — garage experiments, improbable friendships, three‑and‑a‑half decades of shared risk and revelation — changes how you hear “Destiny.” It’s not a random live record; it is a document of a long‑running experiment in cross‑cultural, cross‑genre devotion that after 35 years feels like it was created or channelled this morning.

For me, there were many iconoclastic CDs released this year, but I am confident in naming “Destiny! The Adventures of Jai Uttal & The Pagan Love Orchestra LIVE!” the best album of the 2025.