For a country that can produce a billion love songs on command, India has been weirdly band-shy. We do romance better than anyone, we churn out film soundtracks like they’re hot parathas, but when it comes to the spectacle of a full-blown pop group? Crickets. The last time India had a “band moment”, Shah Rukh Khan was still singing ‘It’s the time to disco’ and we were recording ringtones off the TV.
That was 2002, when Viva, India’s first televised girl group, exploded on the scene in sequins, sass, and synchronised hand flicks. They promised us our own Spice Girls, our own Destiny’s Child. And for one glorious season, it felt possible. But then Viva fizzled, leaving Indian teenagers stan-less. No squads to obsess over, no choreography to copy in front of mirrors, no “Who’s your bias?” debates in the canteen. We looked elsewhere. BTS, Blackpink, One Direction, Little Mix, even the newly minted Katseye filled the gap. But quietly, a new generation was wishing (pun intended) for something closer to home. And now, that wish seems to have been granted.
The last one year has been the year of not one but three pop groups rising out of India’s music scene: W.i.S.H., OutStation, and First5. Together, they’re testing whether India is ready for a band culture of its own. Spoiler: it looks like we are.
Viva walked so W.i.S.H. could run. The four-piece Mumbai-based girl group—comprising siblings Riya and Simran Duggal, plus Zoe Siddharth and Suchita Shirke—released their first album, Sweetburn, earlier this month, and they’re already cracking playlists. Their single ‘Bolo Bolo’, an Afro-desi collab with rapper Panther, racked up 3.5 million YouTube views and landed on Spotify’s Viral 50 India chart.
On paper, W.i.S.H. is a slick concoction of K-pop precision and Indian storytelling. On stage, they’re a spectacle: glittering bindis, technicolour outfits, choreography sharp enough to slice glass. Their songs are written in a mix of Hindi and English, leaning into fun, relatable themes, from swoony love tracks to cheeky odes to self, making their music as playful as their visuals. In their breakout single ‘Lazeez’, they dunk paani-puris in swimming pools and lounge in bathtubs filled with makhana, all while serving razor-sharp synchronicity. It’s cheeky, it’s maximalist, it’s Indian pop turned Instagram bait.
And they know exactly what they’re doing. “We love K-pop. We love Destiny’s Child. We’re big fans of The Pussycat Dolls,” the group agrees. “But for us, it’s more about making a space here that isn’t there right now. We want to bring Indian culture into pop music and do it our way.”
That “our way” is key. Music producer Mikey McCleary, who put the band together, insists that while K-pop influenced their production values, W.i.S.H. is far from a carbon copy. “Of equal influence are groups like Little Mix and Fifth Harmony, along with pop stars like Beyoncé, Sabrina Carpenter, and Dua Lipa. With K-pop, the company often keeps full control, but with W.i.S.H. the girls contribute hugely to the creative process,” says the producer, who also founded a band with other female vocalists called The Bartender in 2011.
For those new to W.i.S.H., their sound is part Afrobeat, part baile funk, part EDM, with unmistakable Indian tonalities woven in. A visual language that flips tradition into TikTok-friendly maximalism. And a fandom already pumping out edits, fancams, and hashtags like their lives depend on it.
If India is ready for a girl group moment, boy bands cannot be far behind. OutStation, a quintet pulled together through a nationwide audition, has quickly made a mark for themselves, combining rigorous prep with a social media presence that is already winning them fans. Aged between 17 and 22, the five members—Hemang Singh from Prayagraj, Shayan Pattem from Hyderabad, Kurien Sebastian, a Malayali raised in Delhi, Bhuvan Shetty from Udupi, and Mashaal Shaikh from Goa—were brought together by four-time Grammy nominee Savan Kotecha. Kotecha, who has written hits for Ariana Grande, One Direction, and The Weeknd, figured it was time India had a homegrown boy band.
So earlier this year, he built one. “OutStation was built for Indian teens who haven’t really had music that speaks to them on this kind of scale. Musically, it’s rooted in pop, but we’re intentional about weaving in Indian melodies, rhythms, and stories. Culturally, we wanted a band that feels both aspirational and accessible—something that represents real India, not just the metros. These boys come from different cities, languages, and walks of life—and that’s important,” says Kotecha about the vision behind the band.
Once the members of OutStation were chosen, they were immediately put through a month-long boot camp in Goa that made military training look like a yoga retreat. “We were up by 6 am every day, and training went on till 10 at night,” recalls Singh. “Vocals, choreography, stagecraft over and over again. It was gruelling but incredibly rewarding.”
The band has not released a single yet—their debut track is slated to arrive later this year—but they have already built a strong fan base thanks to their sharp social media game, which has given them almost 20k followers even before their stage debut. With their music still a WIP, OutStation is leaning into the one thing every great boy band knows: personality.
“The boys are all very different,” Singh, the 20-year-old singer, explains. “Shayan is the youngest, so he is the innocent, naive kid, very cute. Kurian is the funniest guy in the band, always quick with comebacks. Bhuvan is down-to-earth and humble but funny without even trying. Mashaal is the creative, artsy one; he is just his own person. And me? I am the chaotic one. People call me the bad boy, but I do not know why,” he says of their own version of Baby, Sporty, Ginger, Posh, and Scary.
It is this mix of music, image, and identity that is pulling fans in long before the first track has even dropped. From favourite-member debates to behind-the-scenes clips, OutStation is already doing what the greats did before them: giving fans not just songs, but stories and personalities to obsess over.
There are others. First5, which calls itself India’s First Next Gen POP Boy Group, is already out in the world with three singles and millions of YouTube views. The band was created by musician and YouTuber Aksh Baghla in 2024, after an online audition brought together Yoshi, Elton Tokbi, Tan and Daksh, with Baghla stepping into a mentor role. Like OutStation, these boys are from all over the country. Hailing from Himachal Pradesh, Assam, Uttar Pradesh, and Maharashtra, they now call Chandigarh their base. Their music blends Hindi and English with a whimsical, dreamy quality, the kind you’d want to hear on a late-night drive. Think tender love songs and soft, romantic vibes that feel both homegrown and cinematic.
Their latest release, ‘You and I (Tere Saath)’, is a nostalgic love song shot in the dreamy lanes of Shimla. Style-wise, First5 leans into a K-pop-inspired aesthetic—loose pants, woollen sweaters, sharp cuts. It’s instantly eye-catching, and paired with their active social media game, it is helping them build a fandom.
Each member brings a distinct flavour: Daksh with his rock-hip hop edge, Tan’s old-school-meets-modern pop charm, Elton’s soulful Latin-R&B vibe, and Yoshi’s acoustic storytelling. Layer that with Baghla’s BTS-inspired vision of discipline and community, and you have a band built for India’s boy band moment.
What unites these groups isn’t just catchy hooks or flashy visuals; it’s also the creation of a culture. For the first time in years, Indian fans can stan local bands, argue over biases, and make fancams without having to look across oceans. And Kotecha gets it: “For the longest time, if you wanted a band experience, you had to look outside India. But now, there’s a shift happening. Young people want to see themselves reflected in the music they love,” he says of how bands like W.i.S.H., First5, and OutStation are tapping into that desire. “And it’s not just about music—it’s also about identity, expression, belonging. I think the Indian audience has always been ready—we just needed to give them something to believe in.”
