About 15 years ago, an Indian rapper of humble origins broke onto the country’s then-infertile hip-hop music scene and transformed it forever.
He teased, cajoled and vexed his listeners, daring them to explore the “devilish” contours of his mind, as he sang rash rhymes about parties, drugs and “seducing” women. His songs played in clubs and weddings, blaring from stereos at big parties and roadside tea stalls alike.
Then, at the peak of his career, he vanished. Seven years later, Yo Yo Honey Singh is back – with a new album and an ongoing music tour, claiming to be a changed man after a prolonged battle with drug abuse and mental health struggles.
The 41-year-old singer and producer was once one of India’s biggest music stars, a figure who “moved the cultural gravity of hip-hop music”, says music journalist Bhanuj Kappal in Famous, a recent Netflix documentary on Singh.
But he was also deeply controversial – and, by his own admission, an “aggressive and reckless man”, routinely accused of promoting vulgarity, debauchery and violence through his music.
Many criticised Singh’s lyrics for depicting violence against women and rape, an image that gained further traction in the press after his former wife and childhood sweetheart accused him of domestic violence in her divorce filing. Singh has denied the charge.
Seven years later, the singer is no longer the defiant hitmaker who once ruled the charts with his provocative, foot-tapping anthems.
A lot has changed in the intervening years, including Indian hip-hop, which has evolved into a thriving, dynamic space. Artists once inspired by his sound have now surpassed him as the genre’s leading voices.
Singh also seems different. From someone who described himself as “the all-knowing master of the universe”, he now identifies as a God-fearing man who believes in good energies, the cyclic nature of life and “scientific astrologers”.
He claims his music is now more conscious, moving beyond drugs to something deeper. But loyal fans say it’s lost its edge and his latest tracks haven’t left a mark.
“He has a core audience that will stick with him forever… but his vision is old now. It’s outdated,” Kappal says.
But Singh is not ready to be written off, yet.
Instead of trying to conceal or defend his personal struggles with fame and drugs, he has made it the centrepiece of his comeback.
Since his return, Singh has candidly admitted his struggles with addiction and mental health. “Drugs destroyed me completely,” he told Lallantop, a digital news platform. “I lost myself to fame, money and women. I was like a devil, completely satanic.”
In interviews, he is witty and relaxed, speaking with the clarity of a tormented artist who, after battling his inner demons, seems to have unlocked a spiritual truth
“What goes around comes around, I really believe that,” he said recently. “It took a lot of time for me to get out from where I was stuck. But I am back now.”
Born Hridesh Singh in Punjab state, he grew up in a cramped Delhi neighbourhood. Those tough early years shaped his music and still echo in his work today.
“This ghetto was my home, my hood, always will be,” he’s often heard saying.
Singh always knew he wanted a career in music. He started as a college DJ, later moving into production full-time. “I wanted to make beats and produce music, not sing or write,” he says.
But after years as a small-time producer in Punjab, he realised it wouldn’t be enough. “My sounds were too urban for the place. People didn’t understand it. For that, I had to go beyond the state.”
So he went solo. In 2011, Singh released The International Villager, his breakout album. Blending Punjabi folk – its dhol beats and string melodies – with global hip-hop, he created something entirely new.
For three months, it seemed the formula had failed. Then everything changed. Overnight, the songs went viral, topped charts, won awards – and catapulted Singh into Bollywood.
Brown Rang, a song about a brown man’s global ambition, became YouTube’s most-watched video in 2012. Shot in Dubai on a million-dollar budget, it introduced many Indians to the bling of hip-hop – fast cars, baggy clothes, gem-studded watches and gold chains – set to slick, thumping beats.
Despite mounting criticism over his misogynistic lyrics, Singh packed stadiums and churned out hits, breaking into Bollywood with songs for stars like Shah Rukh Khan and Akshay Kumar.
“A lot of times, my lyrics were trash, even I knew that. But people were still listening to it because the sound was so good and fresh,” he told Lallantop.
But Singh’s ascent to fame coincided with his personal downfall.
“I was drowning in drugs and alcohol, smoking 12-15 joints and downing bottles. I abandoned my family, lost control. This one time, I got so high I bit a friend on his stomach eight times,” he told Lallantop.
In 2017, Singh broke down mid-tour – a moment that shook him. He quit music and substances, returned to Delhi and began recovery with a global team of doctors and therapists. “I told my family I was mentally unwell. I can’t do anything till I get better.”
Singh says he’s been sober for seven years, except for the occasional beer.
“I have been to hell and back,” he says in Famous. “Even now, I wake up hazy because of the medicines.”
Fans, however, appreciate Singh’s raw honesty about his self-destructive tendencies – and his effort to overcome them.
“No-one’s perfect. But at least Singh tries to be better. He may have left the scene briefly but his music never stopped playing,” says Nandini Gupta, a Delhi-based student.
Others see his transformation as performative, noting his new music remains problematic. “Though toned down, he is still objectifying women and talking only about money and fame,” says listener Bushra Neyazi.
