Here to the Future is a single, released on July 3, 2020, and it contains one track. That shapes how to approach it. There is no sequence to follow and no album arc to track. There is one piece of music, and the guide below treats it that way. The facts available about this release are limited to those basics, so what follows leans on what is documented about Wah!'s approach rather than on claims about the recording's internal details.
By 2020, Wah! had been working in music for roughly two decades and playing bass in her joyful rock band at yoga festivals and centers since 1997. Her bio describes her as the first female to bring kirtan, the call-and-response chanting of India, to the West in the 1990s. That is her own account, and it is worth reading as such.
The single arrives in the same year as her compact eight-track record Offering, and just after Queen of Mantra and DEVOTION in 2019. It is a small release in a busy stretch. Singles in her catalog, such as Ganeshaya in 2019 and Prano Devi Saraswati in 2024, tend to work as focused offerings rather than full statements, and a one-track release invites that same kind of attention.
Wah!'s music is built on voice and harmonium, with Ableton Live layered in for her online kirtan work. Listeners expecting the restraint of traditional, unamplified kirtan often find her sound warmer and more produced, closer to a modern studio recording. Her years on bass bring a rock-band pulse to some of her material, and her pacing ranges from slow, spacious pieces suited to the Healing Concert to mid-tempo mantra and higher-energy dance mixes.
I can't verify the specific instrumentation, language, or tempo of this single from the data on hand, so treat the above as the house style you are likely to meet, not a track-by-track description. Listen for the usual markers: a lead voice, a responsive pattern, repetition that builds rather than develops, and a sense of warmth over austerity.
With one track, the choice is simple: Here to the Future itself. What makes a single like this land is the same thing that makes her longer records work. Repetition is the method. The listener is not asked to follow a narrative but to settle into a phrase until it stops being a phrase and becomes a surface to rest on. The title points forward, and a piece named this way suits a moment of looking ahead, though the data does not say what the song is about, so let the music tell you rather than relying on any outside account.
Wah!'s work belongs to bhakti, the devotional path in which sung names of the divine carry the practice, and her form is kirtan. Her Sanskrit mantras sit within that lineage, while her yoga-teaching frame and sound-healing vocabulary connect the work to the Western wellness world. The available data names no specific teacher or line of succession, so it is best to hear her as a contemporary American kirtan artist who blends devotional chant with rock-band experience and studio production. Traditionalists may hear that blend as a departure from older forms. Others will hear it as the point: mantra treated as living material, open to remixing and new settings.
This single suits listeners already comfortable with repetition and devotional sincerity. It is a good fit for someone who practices yoga and wants a short piece for the edge of a session, or for a person in a transitional moment who wants something steady to sit with. A one-track release is also a low-commitment way in for a newcomer, though the verified advice for first-time listeners is to start with the full album Queen of Mantra, which presents her core kirtan sound clearly.
It will land less well with those who want purely traditional, unaccompanied kirtan, high-BPM electronic music, variety, or ironic distance.
Give it your full attention once, then let it play again. Headphones will bring out the layering that studio production allows, and an evening setting suits the mood her music tends to create. Sit or lie down, let the first pass wash over you, and on the second pass notice where the voice leads and where it is answered. If you use the piece in a ritual or practice context, treat it as an opening or closing gesture, short enough to frame an hour without taking it over.
For more of the same sound, move next to Queen of Mantra or its instrumental companion, which strips away the vocals and lets the harmonium-led arrangements carry the mood.
