Goldspot have been living and breathing praise and hype in equal measures for two years now, thanks to the staggered release of their debut LP, Tally of the Yes Men.

Since influential US DJ Nic Harcourt championed the Los Angeles five-piece as his “favourite band of 2005”, it’s become a steady, slow burning success story that has seen affection in abundance from the British press (the Sunday Times placing it in it’s top 5 albums from new acts in 2007) and stints on teenage music maker, the OC.

The unassuming affection from iTunes through to the cinema screen hasn’t seen the group hit the major heights that usually befits such occasion and ceremony, but it’s not something that songwriter and lead singer Siddhartha Khosla is concerned about – in fact, it seems to be greatly received:

    “Being underrated is kinda like the best scenario in a way, isn’t it? There’s no expectation of you, and if you do well, it blows people away twice as much. I prefer being underrated than overexposed and overrated.”

You can’t fault the methodology. Reading the answer provides a modest, humble anecdote, but hearing the intonation of his voice as he relays his thoughts that are transferred into a code of zeros and ones, it’s also possible to hear an overwhelming sense of focus, direction and self-assurance.

It’s not all that surprising to understand after looking into the bands past. Siddhartha was severely restricted in his ability to absorb western popular culture by his parents, who would rarely let him consume western television and music. Instead of this line of parenting being observed as unfair to give means for rebellion, Sid sees it a different way:

    “I never looked like it like I rebelled,” he says. “I distinctly remember one-year period where I just didn’t watch any television at all. My mum and dad promised me that they would get me a bike if I didn’t watch television for an entire year, and I didn’t.
    “In that time I would do other things – I would go and expose myself to other things. I just see it as a really positive by-product of not being exposed to television and being exposed to something else and helping me be inspired to do other things.”

What are your opinions on TV now that you’ve grown up and been able to watch it without your parents intervening? Do you feel happy that you’ve actually managed to grow up without the TV when you look at what is on?
    “I think that people are giving television, film and art way too much credit if they think that it has a positive or a negative affect on a child. Ultimately it’s how you raise them. If you have a great house or great role models and positive people around you in your life, or if you watch some movie where there’s like bloody slaughter of human beings and animals and whatever else, you’re not gunna go and murder a human being and start killing animals just because of the sake of doing it.”
   
The nurturing debate that Siddhartha touched upon above is mirrored in his own upbringing. His mother used to sing on early Saturday mornings around the house, much to his annoyance, before she made him put this negative feeling into singing at their local temple to tunes she picked every week. He didn’t like it, but he learned them fully, none the less:

    “Playing for my parents and their friends was much more stressful than playing to people you don’t know. Indian people especially. When you’re singing to Indian people, they know music so well, they’ll catch any mistake you make. You’re dealing with perfectionists.”

Perfectionism is something that hasn’t eluded him either. Early comparisons of the band, who are completed by Ramy Antoun (drums), Derek Horst (guitar), Seth McLain (guitar), Sergio Andrade (bass), were incredibly flattering, whilst also complimenting the accurate, note perfect style that had been the backbone to his early music life.

Interpol, The Beatles, The Smiths, Depeche Mode and R.E.M. were just a few names regularly regurgitated, with Marr, Morrissey and Michael Stipe making a massive impact on his life:

    “It’s an honour really, I would’ve never have thought in a million years that we’d be compared to R.E.M., R.E.M. was the first band I ever listened to on the radio, and they were the first band I ever liked, and if you had told me back when I was 13, that seventeen years down the road that people would be saying that you kinda remind us of R.E.M., I probably wouldn’t have believed you.
    “I wouldn’t have been able to comprehend what that meant, I doubt I would’ve even of had a reaction to that stuff. I appreciate those comparisons!”

Friday is one of your most talked-about songs. It seems that it has really hit a chord with people who have heard it. How do you feel about creating a song that has managed to relate to so many people?
    “I was at a radio station the other week for an interview, and the DJ who was about 19 or 20 said, “Y’know what pisses me off about your song? I love it, I heard it the other day on Radio 2 and started playing it on our station - and my mum loves it too - when I found out she liked it, it really pissed me off!” [Laughs].
    “I’m proud of it because I was able to write a song that had universal appeal, but at the same time is not a cheesy song, and that’s hard to do, because most songs that have universal appeal that everyone loves is normally a really cheesy song, so I’m proud of it.

It’s not just Friday that is a Goldspot success. Whilst it reached number 22 in the UK charts with its “Bollywood” musical hints merged with western rock and traditional indie, fellow track It’s Getting Old became the second biggest song to be downloaded on iTunes ever, sitting behind Justin Timberlake in first.

They’ve even had time to re-work Friday and Tally, as the former was re-sung in Hindi, and the latter re-worked musically, with Indian composer AR Rahman’s Bollywood Orchestra providing the magic. Both received major industry plaudits, but despite this, it’s not been an easy ride.

With an Indian frontman, it was considered that Goldspot weren’t marketable in the western world, most notably in their native U.S.:

    “There were periods where we would be wined and dined for a couple of weeks straight by a major label, who were saying: “We wanna sign you.” I remember there was one record company who came to our manager and said ‘we love the band, we’re just not sure if having an Indian frontman is really a marketable thing’, and that did happen.
    “In the UK, I think people are much more open to it, there’s a substantial Asian population in the country already, and it’s still a minority here [in the U.S.], but they’re a very important part of the society – they have a strong presence in the society.
    “I think people are beginning to be more and more open, and I don’t think it’s necessary the fault of the non-Asian heads of record companies, its decision is also a result of the Indian communities themselves.
    “We don’t grow up to be encouraged to do anything creative, we’re encouraged to become doctors or lawyers and become engineers, so it’s in the framework – it’s almost built into how you are raised to do something like this, so you’re obviously going to have less and less kids trying to break through in entertainment as a result.”

When you were younger, you threw your law school applications in the bin. Was there a defining moment when you realised that it wasn’t for you and that you needed to do something else?
    “[8-second pause]. When I threw my law school applications in the bin, at that point I knew in my heart that I was going to be a musician, I was going to be doing this for my entire life, and it was just a realisation. Sometimes the hardest thing to do as a human being is to be honest with yourself; it’s a very difficult thing to do. I knew in my heart that this was the thing I wanted to do. I just had to listen to myself.”

Do you feel like an Asian spokesman?
    “I don’t feel like I’m a spokesman for the Asian community at all, I guess if people may see me as that then it’s very flattering. I like to be considered as a spokesman for the Asian community when we do something rather than just being there because were in a band.”

It’s a fair statement. Siddhartha hasn’t asked to be an icon or an entity unto himself, he’s just asked that Goldspot are given a fair crack at the whip. He’s not chasing egos either, just making sure that Goldspot have a voice and a place to create music for the world to hear. It just happens to be moving, delicate and extraordinarily expansive music too.

As Goldspot continue to work on their follow up second album after performing their debut for over two years, Siddhartha manages to somehow sum up the mentality ambition and drive of the group in one fell swoop when left with the immortal line of “what’s next for Goldspot”:

    “There’s no particular avenue for us, and there’s always pressure, but do I care? Not really.”

It can only bode well for the future of a band that’s built on the foundations of adversity. Whether the world is ready for them is another matter entirely.