Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Friday, November 26, 2010

I don't know what it is. Maybe its the weather, maybe being amidst civilization after 5 years of semi-imprisonment, or maybe its just me all of 24 but not for long. Whatever it is, its never been this hapless before. There are too many people and too many acquaintances, yet life has never felt lonelier. Almost as if out of spite for those acquaintances, who well are great people.. really. And who are still the same. The way they were when you'd left them. Left home. Yet now... now you belong elsewhere. And the friends of old, well they're just friends of old. Not companions of the present. I guess. Weird.

Nevermind. I still got music. And did I mention the weather? It is great! Fabulous in fact. Walk out of the shivering shade into the lazy sun and bask a while making the drag last inside your lungs. God bless ITC.

Also speaking of music, an old friend was recently speaking, in between sips of hot tea, of how sometimes the simplest of words and the most clichéd of tunes encompass all that there is, there was and there ever will be. In just a moment. The slight tremble of the voice, or the sudden softness in the finger picked twang, or the promise of ever returning to the start and always ending up close but not quite. Just like life, sometimes. Only sometimes.

Here's a sappy number by two beautiful and talented artists that makes me wish I was born in different times. So let the devil take tomorrow, cause tonight I need a friend..




Thursday, October 28, 2010

Today is a day of coincidences. The believer would say there are no coincidences. I wonder if there is much one can do either ways. What must be done, must be done. And weirdly I'm not alone in this one. Not alone, not today. Also a third one is there, watching over, or so I like to believe. Fuck you, bastard. You should have hung on a little longer. Then it could've been the three of us. Well now you'll just have to wait till we're done here.

Got me a new Ipod. Never thought I'd buy one, never felt the need to... but there you have it. Rather I do.

Last night was no fun. Tried getting high with a bunch of old timers, but there was too much going on. Inside our heads. Hence, too many silences. Left unbroken, yet coloured with knowing smiles. The blessing of being with old timers.

Been listening this song since last night. You keep me hanging on by JJ Cale. Its beautiful. Wonder what its like to feel that way. Bet its not as good as the song. Or maybe it is.

Have a nice day.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Back to the cradle

Got my hands on some old Mohiner songs. I had always been fond of Mohin's material. Especially because the youngest of Mohin's horses (the band being named Mohiner Ghoraguli literally translating to mean Mohin's Horses) Mr. Abraham Mazumdar was my music teacher at school and a close friend of the family. Further the band, despite performing in obscurity right through its career in the 1970s, was arguably singlehandedly responsible for the splurge of Bangla Rock bands and artists that came to fore during the late eighties and early nineties and is an important part of the history of modern Bengali popular music.

Last night I heard the song Tomay Dilam after an eternity. I had almost forgotten it even existed. Unlike most Mohin fans, I prefer this vocal harmony and keyboard driven number over their more renowned hits such as Bhalobashi, Prithibi and Ruksana. This seems to me to be a melancholic love song to the Calcuttan in general. Its a beautiful song and I wish I could put up the song itself, but being the technological retard that I am I haven't figured out how to do that yet. In any case it isn't mine to put up.

So instead I got down to translating it. My case is hindered by my poor grasp on the English language and an even poorer understanding of my own mother tongue (I'm glad blogs don't require mandatory pictures of its administrators for I'd rather no one saw my face). Albeit the same, I hope I am able to atleast give the reader a hint of the beauty and the mellow despair in this song and do justice to its eloquent wordplay in the Bengali language. It is a sad and beautiful song that left me awake till late last night.

Tomay Dilam (I give to you)

In the city’s warmest day

of tar fueled sunlight,

a breath of rain

I give to you today.

What else could I give?

Them old rallies,

the rows of them old trams,

the balloon store on the sidewalk

whose thread knotted reds & whites

are my discordant city’s Rhododendron

I give to you today.

What else is there in the late night neon lights,

that illuminate these restaurants.

The highest roof of the tallest building

I give to you today.

I cannot give

the smell of grass, flowers and rice fields,

two palmfuls of softness.

Instead the silent reassurance of the

slightly leaking burnt diesel,

I give to you today.

All the images of the city’s verse

I give to you today.

[I give to you today] x 3

Original Lyrics by the Late Gautam Chattopadhyay

Monday, February 8, 2010

Thats it.


I'm officially rooting for Burnley FC from now on. Atleast they won't play a beautiful passing game with clinical precision and artistic flair only to lose. What one can expect from them is heart. A lot of heart and the audacity to believe that they can defeat any team on their day.

Also I'm tired of heartbreaks. But as a friend once pointed out that I have a tendency to "keep wanking to my first crush forever", I think I'll still root for Arsenal this Wednesday when they face off against a resurgent Liverpool. Shit.

Watched Ishqiya yesterday. Good entertainment. Which brings us to our hottie of the month. Ms. Hottie, February 2009.





















Vidya Balan (courtesy thebollywoodzone.com)

I think my last claim of having a hottie every month was too ambitious, cause well there aren't that many hotties around. Also its easier to wait for one to pop up in your imagination instead of seeking one out. Yes I'm terminally lazy.

Also a personal request to all those who know people working at law firms. Please be kind to them. Their work is shit. In some rare cases the pay even shittier, but the shittiest of it all is the life they lead/are expected to lead. Whats worse (if it can get any worse) is that they don't realise it and take themselves so seriously
. So please be kind when you meet one. Feed it, clothe it and give it some love.

Watched Cadillac Records last Saturday evening and man can this guy sing (Some may recall him as the African dictator in Lord of War). He does a cover of Smokestack Lightnin' for the film where he plays Howlin' Wolf. Absolutely mindblowing.


Anyone wants to buy me the Double Disk Deluxe Edition of the film soundtrack? Anyone?!? I work in a law firm, you know.


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Guitar God of another kind

Peter Green used his work to play the melancholic blues. Gary Rossington made it groove under the slide. Dicky Betts made the same screach and moan on the top of its mechanical lungs. And Jimmy Page, well what can one say about what Page did? Jimmy Page showed the world what it could really sound like.

Justify Full

It is the Gibson Les Paul.

It was created by a man called Lester William Polfuss, affectionately known to the world of Rock n' Roll as Les Paul. He is credited as the pioneer of the solid body guitar that made Rock n' Roll as we know it possible. I don't understand so much about guitars, but I do understand that we wouldn't have had the sweet sweet melodies created by many a guitar legend, had it not been for his invention.
Instrumentalists in general are said to share a special bond with their instrument. The instrument is like an extention to the musician's own body, or rather his self. Many legends whom I adore, worshipped Senor Les for his contribution towards their art.


The creator and his creation

Lester William Polfuss passed away yesterday of complications from pneumonia, at age 94. This post is a thank you to the musician and guitar technician who inspired many of the greatest guitar players born till date. So thank you Sir, for doing what you did.

RIP.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

If you were my guitar...

Baby, I'd play you all night long. And you'd believe him, cause well Senor Rudy Wallang can play. Further anyone who has heard or witnessed Tipriti Kharbangar will testify that our man can't really be blamed for his desires.

SOULMATE

Saturday, 18th July, 2009; Someplace Else, Kolkata played host to Soulmate - India's premier blues/blues-rock outfit. I was there. I had to be, there was no way I could miss them. I'd heard about them from a close friend in college who's love affair with the band started when he'd first seen them perform at Haze Blues Bar, New Delhi. They had just come out with their first album, Shillong, and were touring to promote the same.

Soulmate - an electric blues quartet from Shillong, comprising Rudy Wallang (vocals, lead guitar), Tipriti Kharbangar (vocals, rhythm guitar), Ferdy Dkhar (bass guitar) and Sam Shullai (drums) - has been India's most popular export to the world of blues music. A little bit of background research on the internet yields that the band has tasted unprecedented international attention of blues aficionados over the last 3 years. This includes regular performances at The Kathmandu International Music Festival, an appearance at the Bealy Street Blues Club in Memphis, Tennesee; and on another occasion sharing the stage with none other than Buddy Guy after finishing as semi-finalists at an Internation Blues Competition in the United States. Last evening they were promoting their second album, Moving On, at Someplace Else.

Last evening I met them for the first time, and as the evening wove itself into the night, I fell deeply and utterly in love. Soulmate, unlike most other Indian bands in their genre, have very strong original material that in itself defines the band sound. They further spice it up with covers done the way they would do it, thereby creating a continuum of sound that is specific to them. And that sound, apart from being distinctive is beautiful, energetic and passionate. Something that captures your imagination and holds it till the band leaves the stage, and also has a lingering aftertaste. All in all a phenomenally talented outfit.
Further like most bands in general, Soulmate exudes a distinct sexuality through their sound and command of the stage. However, unlike most other bands they cannot be classified merely as masculine or feminine. They are distinctively androgynous. This is what makes them special, in a market dominated by intensely commercial artists like Parikrama or niche performers like Indian Ocean and Agni, or headbangers like Bhayanak Maut (the Indian Megadeth).

I say they are androgynous for 2 reasons.

Firstly, despite three quarters of the band being male, it is Tipriti Kharbangar - their lethally gorgeous and extremely talented vocalist - who consciously commands the stage and the attention of the audience for most of the performance. However, the rest of the band plays truant like playboys, with their sounds circling around her voice, pretending to chase and failing to catch up with her until the very end. For example last night, amongst their other stuff, they played an original instrumental that sounded to me akin to a rock ballad. Probably inserted as a break from the blues for the rock-inclined audience. However, towards the end Tipriti lets her vocals rip through the air with Rudy panting up the incline on his guitar, and before you know its the guitar thats reached her voice and taken over as the lead sound. It was awesome! Fucking brilliantly executed.

Tipriti Kharbangar

Also their choice of songs possess a strange underlying sexual ambiguity when watched live. Again for example, their number 'If you were my guitar' written and sung by Rudy Wallang, is basically a man's song rendered on what seemed like a typical Albert King influenced blues sound. Heard on the stereo its a man who would take to it instinctively. However, in the band it is Rudy's voice that is more sedate and charming while Tipriti's is the screech of an angry young woman. Thus when performed live after one's brain has already experienced the intense onslaught of a leopard-skin top clad Tipriti Kharbangar, Rudy's rendition almost sounds like a seductively playful young woman looking to get you a place to sleep. Ms. Kharbangar on the other hand sways from a dark femininity of numbers like 'My cup of tea' to the passionate rebellion of 'I am' that would put most men of our times, including myself, to shame.

Rudy Wallang & Tipriti Kharbangar do the Blues.

Soulmate further possesses a formidable reputation for their blues covers. They stayed true to their roots by playing a jazz version of Joplin's Summertime, more classic and true-to-the-original versions of Stevie Ray Vaughan's 'Pride & Joy', which Rudy dedicated to Tipriti, and BB King's 'Rock Me Baby'. However, highlight of the performance was definitely their cover of Hendrix's 'Straight Ahead'. Honest to God, I have never witnessed such justice being done to the artist by any other live act. I've watched numerous local bands botch up, or do downplayed renditions of the maestro's works. I've also witnessed wild covers of 'Purple Haze' and 'Voodoo Child' by Parikrama. But none of them can match upto the justice Rudy Wallang and Tipriti did to the song. My opinion regarding this maybe slightly prejudiced cause personally I've always felt that Hendrix would sound much more sexy on sultry and accomplished female vocals, than it does through a male voice. Soulmate proved me right to myself. Their cover was really really sexy.
The gig ended with the band satisfying the crowd's cheers for an encore with BB King's 'Blues had a baby, and they named it rock n' roll'.

I was left speechless with feeling by the end of the gig. The power of the performance was not lost on my friends either, who despite not being blues fans were rendered awestruck. One of my friends instinctively responded to Tipriti's vocals by blurting "her voice flies everywhere man". It does and the best part is that it carries you along with it.

A word to my audience. Do yourselves a favour and catch Soulmate next time they are in your town. Its an experience that was worth the wait for me.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Portrait of the man who killed God


Chapter I : First Rays of the New Rising Sun

In November, 1942; a seventeen year old black girl - Lucille - gave birth to baby Johnny Allen. He was the second physically able child his mother would give birth to. His brother Joseph and sister Pamela were born with physical disabilities and were given up for state care at an early age. His other sister Kathy was born blind and was subsequently given up for adoption.

The boy’s father served in the army and was not around during his early childhood. However, after his release from service he collected his son and changed his name to James Marshall. Thus the boy got his name.

James got a guitar for $5 at age 15, around the time his mum was dying, and started playing. With no formal training he picked up licks and riffs by watching others play or by the ear. At 17 he had his first electric guitar, a gift from his father. This was 1959, and Blues artistes such as Muddy Waters and BB King were all over the radios doing exciting new work with the blues scale on the electric guitar, lending the traditional notes born in the swamps of the Mississipi river or the back-alleys of Chicago, a more refined commercially viable sound. Jimmy Rodgers, who played guitar for an upcoming Muddy Waters, and BB King were the earliest inspirations to young James. He tried playing for local bands, but as it were, his style and manner was ‘too loud’ and he often got himself kicked out at the auditions itself. However, he did play a while in a band called The Velvetones, who did local gigs for free.

It was however in the early 60s - after he joined the army to escape a rap for stealing cars - that James Marshall took to the electric guitar with a sincerity and passion that would lead him to experiment for hours with feedbacks and distortions, his mastery over which eventually created the legend who was just being toilet-trained as of now.

Whilst in the Army, he also became friends with bassist Billy Cox with whom he’d perform random gigs under the name The King Kasuals.

The discharge from the Army came sooner than expected after his commanding officer caught James sleeping with his guitar. So off went The Kings Kasuals, James and buddy Billy, down south to Tennessee where they would scratch out a living by performing gigs with various artists on the infamous Chitlin Circuit. It is here that James learnt to play with his teeth, cause well that’s what most artists did there. It has been said that on the streets of Chitlin everyone had something to show. Something to enchant you with, cause if they didn’t they would starve. It is here that James Marshall learnt the thrill of winning crowds by shocking them with what he could do. Or rather, by what was possible to be done. The highlight of his career here was touring with Little Richard as a back up guitar player. Little Richard was a big influence on a struggling James. He showed him how to be freaky and still woo large audiences. The gigs with Little Richard were the largest ones James had played till date. He would later go on to say that he wanted to do with his guitar, what Richard did with his voice.

Some months later James Marshall was to be found in New York, in Greenwich Village. No one exactly knows what happened. Some say Little Richard fired him, some say he missed the tour bus, and some say he never wanted to get on it in the first place. Either ways James Marshall was spotted in New York in early 1965. It is here that he would be introduced to the works of one of America’s greatest songwriters.

Bob Dylan had just released Highway 61 Revisited. Worst of all, blasphemies of blasphemies, Dylan had gone Electric!

Now this was a big deal back then. Bob Dylan was an American folk hero. He was to herald the Peace Movement to draw the Government out of THE WAR. And now he just stabs everyone in the back, or maybe shows everyone what it was really about, with the opening track of the album - Like a rolling stone - often considered in retrospect to be one of the pivotal works in Rock n’ Roll history.

It was Dylan’s first studio album with a full-fledged electric set and a back-up band. He was “Judas” to some, and “genius” to others. The point being however, that he was the man everyone was talking about, atleast in New York.

James Marshall was completely enamoured by what he heard of Dylan. Also till date James had experimented a lot with his guitar and amplifiers; however, he hadn’t dared to sing. He hadn’t ever considered himself a worthy singer. When he heard Dylan, for the first time he realized that “if this guy can sing, so can I”. Hence James started singing alongside playing the guitar.

Meanwhile across the Atlantic, in good ol’ England, a bunch of British kids from industrial counties such as Manchester, Liverpool and London, had taken to the sound of the Mississipi Delta and had made it their own in ways that would’ve been unimaginable to a traditional blues artist. As a result they were selling records not only in their country, but also in the intellectual East Coast of America. Bands like The Animals, The Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds, John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, and probably the most significant of them all…Cream; were part of what came to be known as The First British Invasion of America. Immensely popular both at home and abroad, these bands gained a formidable reputation for their live performances, presenting the blues in a manner unheard before. Much like what James was trying to do in America, in vain. Now in New York he found records of people like Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck who were creating sounds with feedbacks and distortions much like himself.

He felt like his ‘real friends were miles away across the ocean’. And he hadn’t even met them.


Chapter II : Bold as Love

Early in 1965 The Animals would split up leaving bass guitarist – Chas Chandler – looking out for new talent to manage. Mr. Chandler was looking for an artist cover an old blues number called ‘Hey Joe’ when he walked into a bar in New York and saw a black left handed guitarist present a dark and serene cover of the same song. On asking he learnt that the guy called himself Jimi. Jimi Hendrix.

Chandler would go on to become Jimi’s manager. He knew that the New York scene wasn’t ready for Hendrix’s guitar work yet. In fact there was no market anywhere in America for the kind of electric blues that Jimi was dishing out.

He offered to take Jimi to England. Get him a band, and cut him a record. Chandler recalls Jimi’s one and only query; “Could you introduce me to Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck?

So in early 1966, after being in New York for less than a year, Jimi Hendrix left for London.

Barely a week in London and Chandler decided to take Jimi to a Cream concert. Chandler, having been part of a high billing act, knew most of the who’s-whos of London’s music underground. Clapton was a personal friend of his, and he was to introduce Jimi at the end of the show. But rarely could anyone, anyone human, ever stick to plans made with Jimi Hendrix.

It is worthy of mention that Cream were regarded as ‘The Royalty of the British blues scene, with lead guitarist Eric Clapton being unofficially referred to as God amongst their fans. Most critics and journalists recall that at Cream shows, the entire hall would shut up if any of the Cream members did so much as even whisper. That was the kind of aura surrounding the band when Jimi came in.

Sometime into the performance, the audience received their first shock of the evening. A tall thin black man got onto stage and asked to jam with Cream. This is something no one had ever done or would do. If you were in England in 1966 and you liked the blues, you were definitely and utterly in awe and devoted to a band called Cream. You don’t comment on Cream, you don’t touch Cream, and hell! you definitely don’t get on their stage uninvited and ask to jam with them.

Fortunately the members of Cream were not as arrogant as they presented themselves to be, and so they agreed to jam. Jimi Hendrix, after having been in London for 5 days, was on stage to jam with the biggest electric blues band in the history of blues.

Jack Bruce would, in a television interview, later wonder as to why ‘I did not kill Jimi when he came onstage, cause he plugged his guitar into my bass amp.

And then came the shock of a lifetime. Jimi blurted out the chords to Killing Floor on his guitar with Clapton struggling to follow. Journalists present at the gig recall Clapton’s hands dropping off his guitar and him standing there for a while before dropping his guitar and walking offstage, leaving an unaware Hendrix still playing onstage.

Chaz Chandler would run backstage to find Clapton struggling to light a cigarette with shaky hands. Clapton’s only reaction was “is he really that good?

People leaving the concert, not knowing Jimi’s name yet, started whispering about a black left handed guitarist from America who had just killed God!

Jimi Hendrix had officially arrived at the scene.

Jimi Hendrix would go on to form The Jimi Hendrix Experience under Chandler’s guidance, with British musicians Noel Redding on bass and Mitch Mitchell on drums. Within 6 months of arriving in London, he was the most sought after and billed live act in England. Not only did he draw large crowds for his gigs, but also caught the imagination of most of his peers. A rock critic noted that, ‘if you been to a Hendrix gig in England, chances are you’d run into someone like Townsend, Jeff Beck or maybe one of the lads from Cream on your way out’. The aristocracy of British music was in love with him.

He was hailed as the fastest rising star on the horizon, and at the 1967 Monterrey Pop Festival his coronation as the most talented live act in the world was complete. The Who and Jimi, both known for their wild and out-of-control live performances were to share the stage together for the first time. Both had a healthy respect for the other and neither wanted to follow the other on stage. The stalemate led to a toss between Jimi and Pete Townsend, the latter won. Thus Jimi was to follow The Who. The Who would go on to deliver one of their trademark outrageous performances.

But Jimi Hendrix was not to be outdone by mere luck. That night Hendrix audaciously became the first artist to cover Like a rolling stone, a song considered so hallowed in the music business that no one had dared to touch it yet. He would then go on to burn his guitar onstage shocking the near 20,000 strong audience.

The power of the same performance would lead Roger Daltrey of The Who to comment “only Jimi could’ve followed The Who that night”.

Later that year, at his last performance in London before returning to America, Jimi would go on to cover Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, the title track from the Beatles album that was released just 2 days before the scheduled gig. Most of the British audience present hadn’t heard the song yet.

Noel Redding remembers being too stunned to walk out on stage when Jimi had informed him of his choice for the opening track of the gig, just minutes before they were due onstage. Further Paul McCartney and George Harrision were present in the audience amongst other British rock glitterati.

They pulled it off much to McCartney’s delight and to the relief of the rest of The Experience.

That year they released their first album Are You Experienced? in UK, and it reached #2 on the UK charts second only to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles.


Chapter III : Electric Ladyland

Jimi Hendrix was found dead at a hotel in London in September, 1970.

Before his death he had returned home to a frenzy of fans and urban legends about him. America had discovered one of its greatest sons by words and reviews heard from across the Atlantic. His arrival was closely anticipated and watched. In the next 3 years he would go on to record two more albums with The Experience before Noel Redding quit the band. Mitch Mitchell stuck on with Hendrix for a few live projects before Hendrix joined forces with his old friend Billy Cox on bass, and drummer Buddy Miles to form The Band of Gypsys. They released Hendrix’s only complete official live LP.

A few months later Jimi was reunited with The Experience in what was to be his last tour with the band.

After his death, multitudes of artists – blues and otherwise – have come and gone working with the effects and chord structures used by Jimi. It was like Jimi Hendrix had taken the language of the blues and come up with his very own dialect. Peers such as Jeff Beck would later comment on the body of music left behind saying, “By the time he (Jimi) was done, it was like there was nothing left to do…He did all that we were trying to achieve, but what he did we never could have done…you know being white and British, it was impossible for me”.

Jack Bruce while commenting on Eric Clapton and Hendrix, once said “when I first saw Eric I said to myself, now here is a master guitar player…but Jimi…now Jimi was more like a force of nature”.

Personally I believe Jimi Hendrix’s music was a chaotic mix of oneself looking at one’s present through the eyes of another culture and somehow trying to align that to one’s own culture within the existing social structures; thereby giving birth to a most potent, self destructive form of madness that was to eventually consume its own source. With Jimi Hendrix, the blues had come a full circle from the backwaters of Mississipi to the shores of the Thames and riches of Europe, only to be thrust back into the hands of a left handed African-American guitar player.

James Marshall Hendrix, RIP.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Of Heroines


My return to my esteemed University was amidst tremendous excitement due to a spate of 'sexual harrasment' accusations levied at some boys from my batch by a couple of girls. These boys are - and I say so without any misgivings or shame - my friends. And they did pass derogatory comments against the aforementioned women, for which they have been held accountable and demeaned. However, the comments passed if taken into account would reflect only their genuine feelings about the women and NOT Sexual Harrasment of any form; which in turn seems justified to me - retrospectively - if you take the women and their reactions into account. But thats just me.

However, this post is not to justify the misconduct of my friends or comment upon the lack of character and backbone shown by the female fraternity of NALSAR in general. The aforementioned incidents brought me to consider females I have admired and loved the most. Above are; from left - Grace Slick & Janis Joplin. Needless to say that it is their voice that just kills me. Grace Slick's vocal tremolos and Janis's raw energy and pain, always leave me holding my breath without realising. However, certain instances from their lives reflect certain characteristics in these women which I believe to be the only thing that still keeps me saying "chics can be cool". After all my faith in all I believed in and the people I carried affection for have been shaken brutely by Nalsar and it is in these times I look to my heros, rather heroines in search of hope.

To mention a few instances from rock n roll urban legend;
Grace Slick had once tried to put LSD into Richard Nixon's tea. Seriously. Further, in a 1969 Dick Cavett Show performance, she became the first person to say "motherfucker" on live television during a performance of "We Can Be Together" with the rest of Jefferson Airplane.
In 1971 she fought with her lead guitarist Jorma Kaukonen and challenged him to a race which ended in her crashing her car into the side of the Golden Gate Bridge. She sufferred a concussion and later wrote a song about it. Jorma and Grace remain friends till date. She's also been arrested several times for the crime of - as she believes - Talking Under Influence; the official records reflect arrests on charges of Driving Under Influence. She was well known for her sharp tongue.

Janis Joplin was less boisterous in terms of her behaviour in public, though her music is considered far too bold for her times. She was a white girl, singing black blues melodies, in an overtly rock n' roll market. But she sang with the kind of vengeful darkness that brought her instant success and recognition amongst black and white music afficinados alike. Summertime is an apt example of her approach to music in general. Summertime was a popular lullaby from a George Gershwin opera called Porgy & Bess. In the opera it is a father who sings the song to his infant child reassuring him of the life that lay ahead. However, anyone who's heard the more famous Janis Joplin version would agree that she didn't sing it to be a lullaby. On the contrary, I feel, its Joplin putting on a black woman's cynical sneer at her white counterpart. And the darkness and the confusion is rendered more potent by her being a white woman in reality. A white woman with a black heart.
To provide context the song was recorded by her in the album 'Cheap Thrills' in 1968 and contains the lines "Oh, Your daddy's rich; And your mamma's good lookin', So hush little baby don't you cry".

Its not surprising to me that these women became the voice to the pain, anger and frustation of an entire generation of disillusioned youth, comprising mostly of vagabonds and junkies - men of apparent despicable characteristics.
Pardon my sexist remark but I feel these women had balls. Metaphorically ofcourse. Maybe thats why I admire them so much. Cheers.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Old City & Hariprasad Chaurasia

Yesterday I ventured into Old City, after quite some time, a year at least. The Charminar area of Hyderabad along with its adjoining Mulsim dominated Afzalgunj and Nampally together form the areas collectively referred to as Old City. My destination was the Times of India Hyderabad Festival being held at Chowhalla Palace where Padma Vibhushan Sri Hariprasad Chaurasia and Padma Vibhushan Sonal Man Singh were scheduled to perform their Art.

Stepping into Old City lends one a romantic and subtlely unnerving feeling of being transferred to another world order. Especially under the seige of the lights and sounds of the evening waning into the night. Little scooters and other assortment of two wheelers scurry hurriedly amidst fissures existing within heavy traffic, the wrong way in narrow one way bylanes. Vision is granted by yellow bulbs put up by hawkers. Their wares too would put shopping malls in the most affluent localities to shame. After all where in these times would you find a pile of scarves for sale, with an image of Twinkle Khanna in the centre surrounded by loud embroidery. Most passing autorickshaws carried green flags and crude graphiti of AIMIM - All India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen - the local party headed by Asaduddin Owaisi. Everyone makes it known to whom it is that they belong. No matter if you run a small pan shop or the brightest textile store in the neighbourhood. In Old City you still gotta serve somebody. Also I noted Cycle rickshaws on some streets. I had never seen cycle rickshaws outside Calcutta till date. These were not exactly the same though. Their passenger carriers were lower and closer to the ground below, and the wheels have a smaller diameter than the ones back home.

My friend and I reached Chowhalla Palace in time for the concert. We didn't have passes though. That however didn't seem to be a problem as most of the invitees seemed to have an excess of passes. Two such passing families provided us with our invitations. I must say I was a little apprehensive entering the Palace. Most guests had arrived in exquisite suits and sarees and in Mercs and Hondas. We on the other hand had walked 2 kms from the nearest bus-stop in dirty shirts, jeans and slippers. We were still allowed in without any fuss.
Pandit Chaurasia's performance turned out to be mindblowing. I had never experienced Indian Classical music before and even the atmosphere in the lawn surrounding the stage, where the audience were seated, was that of an utter ease and relaxation that I had never experienced earlier. Completely different from all live acts I've seen. You could see elderly couples shaking their heads vigorously to the taal and hold hands, and groove - if I may say so - to the music. The tightness of the performers on stage too was that of a different league. I was most impressed by the Pandit's tabla accompanist. He was like a raging demon, bellowing a throbbing and ebbing beat of chaos swirling around the stage, controlled by what seemed like a string composed of sound from Panditji's flute situated at its focal point. At its heart. Such sweetness juggling what seemed like an uncontrollable yet measured barrage of beats. I found it oddly disturbing yet exhilarating.
Pandit Chaurasia also seemed to have a keen sense of humour when he expressed his wariness about eating into the time allotted to the fiesty danceuse whose performanec was to follow his, upon him being requested an encore. "She' from Delhi....Maaan Singh (arms raised in animation)...thats why I'm scared you see". He finally relented to the audience's request saying "I'll play you a little peice of...uh umm...anything", then promptly proceeding to pick up his flute and sway away one last time. Stud.

I also sat through a bit of Sonal Man Singh's performance. She must've been really graceful, but I have never been visually very aesthetic. Her accompanying Sarod player was brilliant though. He also made me realise an uncanny similarity between Indian Classical musicians and Blues artists in the stringed instruments division. They both love to hear the notes bend. Literally. One of the most apt images of contentment in my mind is that of the expression on a musician's face instinctively and spontaneously appreciating a note played well. You should've seen the Sarod Master's face after every note he stretched to his instinctive satisfaction.
I also realised that dances are used to tell stories. Atleast can be. I had never witnessed a Classical Dance performance before, nor have I ever felt that I could actually 'understand' it. But on observing carefully, the first dance the maestro performed, seemed to me like an invocation of the different incarnations of the Goddess Parvati. The first one was Durga slaying the demon Mahishashur - this was easy, the accompanying vocalist repeated sholkas mentioning both Durga and Mahishashur - I could further make out other similar emulations of the Goddesses Kali, Bhabani, and Devi Bhubaneshwari.
However I soon got bored and left at the commencement of the second dance.

I also ate dinner at Shadab Hotel in Old City. If anyone has been to Hyderabad and not eaten at Shadab then they have lived a little less than those who have. There are very few things in life that I can say the same of.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Longest Comment Ever!!

This comment deserves a post to itself. Thank you Atul.

Atul Vishwanathan said...

Hey, very nice and informative.. (seemingly professional too.. heh heh). I had a similar history as yours till the pseudorocker part... all of my co-pseudorockers then shifted to the blues.. i just couldn't. The music was boring and culturally not appealing. I am not saying rock was, but at least i thought it was. This, I couldn't even do that. To tell you the truth, I began feeling far removed ever since I started listening to Indian Ocean. That was because those guys sang in a language I didn't know, but still appealed. (Maybe it's the same with you for blues.) But ever since, music has lost meaning to me. As in, I can enjoy any music now simply as a break from routine. Entertainment and that's all. It never was (I thought it was) or will be a part of my routine.

Anyhow, please help me put a few things into perspective here:
1. You say Eric and the blues helped you be who you are and how you behave. I don't understand the direct link between the two. Can you please give an instance or otherwise clarify.
2. Do you play an instrument? Do you wish to?
3. There are thousands of people in India and elsewhere who have never been exposed to rock or blues. Do you think they are missing something? Do you think they would appreciate it if they heard it? Will American kids ever be as enthusiastic about rajasthani music as kids here are about their kind of music?

Sorry for this diatribe. I am not sure if this is the right medium for this discussion. But what the fuck...


Firstly this is a medium where anything goes, so well thank god for diatribes and for comments turned into posts. Now to answer them questions raised,

1. I remember my earliest memories of college being plagued with acts carried out of insecurity. I was a nervous kid. I wanted to do things right. Rather I wanted to do the right thing. Always. Besides I was extremely self critical, and often took the blame for other acting bitchy upon myself. And rock music abetted the same. Rock music inspired me to do what is considered right, to want to save the world, to uphold ideals. Milan Kundera once said, "Rock music is like my heartbeat to me, it reminds me with every beat that I am mortal". I think in retrospect I agree with him to a certain extent.
The blues however is a different story. If Rock music reminds one of one's mortality, then blues reminds one what it is like to be alive. The blues wanst to live. Despite having them blues. The blues keeps life simple, something you'll always understand. And it don't make no pretence of upholding any morality. The blues only deals with humanity and human reactions, right or wrong, they're still human and are worth singing and cherishing. And the simplicity is always welcome, especially when the world goes so complex on you. For example, BB King's "Get out of my life woman, you don't love me no more"; or Muddy Waters "Got my mojo workin' but it just don't work on you"; or "I'm going down to shoot my old lady, you know I've caught her messin' around with another man" from Hey Joe by Billy Roberts (famously covered by Jimi Hendrix). The blues, like I said, keeps it simple and accepts imperfections of the human condition whole heartedly upto the point of making it sound cool. Fucking cool. I like that.
I've stopped trying to do things right or even trying to make myself perfect in the eyes of others. The blues made me realise the futility of the same. I am what I am, Thank God. Jimi Hendrix said that. I've finally learnt to live like that. Thanks to the blues.

Also I've learnt to appreciate wimmen for the way they look and not for who they are. I believe a beautiful woman is God's gift to mankind and must be treated right. No matter how bitchy and dumb they are. Those are just obstacles God has put on them so that they can find a man who will look past that shit and appreciate the real beauty. Blues taught me to appreciate the beauty on the outside. The real beauty of a woman. Heh.

2. I 've been formally trained to play the violin - Western Classical - upto Grade 5. I've also cleared upto Grade 4 of music theory. However, playing the violin was like doing homework. I never really appreciated the music. I've always fancied playing the bass though. Jack Bruce (Cream), Leo Lyons (Ten Years After) and Jon Paul Jones (Led Zep) are my heroes in this regard.

3. I believe music is something that breaches the darkest corners of the human soul. Music is also something I've always been overtly influenced by. Kind of like what Literature does to some people. For example if I had to shoot someone, I wouldn't keep a book with me as an explanation, I'd keep an album. So like that, I feel anyone and everyone is capable of being influenced by music. The fact that you haven't been introduced to a certain form of music doesn't mean you're missing something. Everyone has their own natural inclinations and likewise find their type of music, which then grows around them and lives with them. In their car, or in their CD cases, or with the ones they love and share their lives and music with. No one is missing anything they don't have already.
On whether Rajasthani kids would appreciate American music; well maybe, maybe not. That really depends on the kid now, doesn't it? I appreciate music in the English language, cause well having been brought up in an English medium school since childhood, I'm most comfortable thinking in English. In fact for my vernacular exams, I used to think in English and translate the same into Bong/Hindi. So like that.

Have I answered all questions succintly? I know I have tried. Thank you for the comment. I'm glad I could arouse someone's curiosity for the blues. Please go ahead and ask for further clarfications. I would be only too glad to provide answers to the same the best I can. Cheers.



*If I maybe permitted, I'd like to make an addition to the answer to Q1. I was thinking about it, and I realised that I forgot to talk about my passion for travelling. I like to travel, and it is something I picked up round about the same time I started listening to the blues. Blues lyrics are traditionally characterised highways and railroads and cheap liquor places. All that is my kind of scene. I like travelling, mostly by inter-state public road transport. I live and eat cheap, travel and get high more. Also I find this kind of peace within me and without, both when I travel and when I listen to the blues. I guess I don't travel to beat the blues, I travel cause I got the blues. I said that. heh.

**Also worth mentioning is that I have no intentions of being a professional and hence don't write professionally. But coming from a professional, I'll take you comments as a compliment. So Thank You.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Of Discovery, Religion & God



There were a few artistes whom I had been following since my late high school years into college. I had heard all the studio albums released by Pink Floyd and Dire Straits before I entered college and it was something I was quite proud of. I was a snoot in choices of music, and now looking back, I feel I took an overt pride in the fact that I liked Rock music, and that I had heard a 'lotta shit'. In college I continued to blast the same music from my room for an entire year. I was a rocker (bloody psuedo fuck if you ask me now...but I was only 18) and swore by the abovementioned, Pearl Jam (I still dig PJ), Oasis and REM.

Sometime in my second year I got my hands on the 4 disc Crossroads Compilation of Eric Clapton's studio work over the years. I don't exactly remember why I actually played it but I guess it was because of a friend who insisted upon making me listen to "real music". Since then I've heard that compilation enough number times to have memorised even the order of songs in each disc - my favourite is Disc 3 - and have gone out of my way to collate as much of Clapton as I could. It was the first time I'd heard the blues. It was love at first sound.

The funny thing about Clapton, which is something you don't realise when you start listening to him, is that most of his stuff that blows your mind isn't really written by him. Eric Clapton, contrary to popular opinion, did not start out aiming be a fullblown rockstar. Eric Clapton was a guitar player. According to him, he wanted to be like Buddy Guy. He wanted to play the blues like a maestro, like a demon possessing the souls of all and sundry before him. I think he succeeded. Perhaps too soon in his life. However, over the years I have grown from Clapton's music and have discovered all that I listen to now. It was that compilation that led me to artists like Buddy Guy, Jimi Hendrix, Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson (whom Clapton considered to be his guru - Clapton has a Robert Johnson cover in every album of his - his most famous number Crossroads is his version of the Cross Road Blues by Johnson) and eventually my personal guitar hero Stevie Ray Vaughan. Thus for me listening to Eric Clapton was like an introduction to a form of music that has grown like a cancer within me and now has complete control over my senses and my life. If I had to profess a faith I would call it music - blues specifically - and Eric Clapton would be my oldest God, the patron saint of the blues.

Recently I came across an interview of Clapton's from 1974 that revealed another side to the man who was once touted all over the Islington subways as God. A side that got me interested in his life and career. A side that showed me an emotional, honest, passionated and maybe slightly daft guy who was aware of the tremendous talent bestowed upon him by the heavens, and who understood its value enough to have still kept himself alive. Something that most of his contemporaries and even guitarists after him haven't been able to do.

Eric Clapton started his career in a British band called Rooster which also had Brian Jones on rhythm guitars, and he would often sing in place of friend Mick Jagger on the side - when Jagger would be too high to sing - at a club called The Firehouse . I do not think they ever recorded for I haven't been able to get my hands on any of their music. However, Rooster soon split with Jones joining forces with Mick and Keith Richards to form the legendary Rolling Stones and Eric Clapton joining a blues influenced rock n' roll band called The Yardbirds. His stint with the Yardbirds gained him recognition as a blues guitarist in the British underground in the 60s. However, The Yardbirds were looking to break into the charts and thus were looking to record more pop numbers, moving away from the blues. Clapton, then 18, couldn't care less about the charts. The first pop number recorded by The Yardbirds - For Your Love - was also the last number recorded by Clapton for them. According to him, he wanted to play the blues, and he wanted to know the blues. So after The Yardbirds, Clapton became a construction worker for a while till John Mayall found him and inducted him into the Bluesbreakers. He would also play in a band called The Glands in Greece for a while, before returning to England and The Bluesbreakers to cut his solitary record with them. It was his stint with The Bluesbreakers that gained him recognition all over his homeland as the 'best blues guitarist in the Brit club circuit'.

However, he still hadn't recorded the stuff that his legend is made of. In 1966 Clapton formed the earliest power trio rock-blues band, modelled after Buddy Guy's trio, alongside the phenomenally talented Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker. Below is Cream (from left : Eric, Ginger and Jack).

Cream is arguably the most influential rock-blues band in the history of Rock n Roll. They released 4 studio albums and in them they created the kind of power blues that would go on and influence the creation of rock trios like The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Beck, Bogart and Appice (BBA). While Clapton did sing on a few numbers, it was Jack Bruce who handled most of the vocal work and songwriting for the band.
Personally I feel they were the most creative and individually talented outfit of musicians to have ever come together. In the long run their onstage talent was probably rivalled only by Led Zeppelin, and their creativity by Jethro Tull. Still the work they did in the 4 albums remains unparralled in my opinion. Especially their live recordings. I also possess a 4 cd Cream Compilation (Those Were The Days) of which 2 consist their live recordings. I think the stuff they have on those 2 cds, should be made a compulsory part of music lessons in every high school that imparts music lessons (mine did...they never played us Cream though, fucking idiots).

Cream reached dizzying heights of fame and fortune. They became the biggest band of their time and Eric Clapton was at the peak of his career. In fact when Chaz Chandler, Jimi Hendrix's manager, offered to take Jimi to England and get him a band, all Jimi asked was, "will you introduce me to Eric Clapton?"
Fame came with its price. 2 years into the band Ginger Baker and Jack Bruce were reportedly at loggerheads with each other more often than not. Clapton on his part was getting disillusioned as a musician. He wasn't singing as much as he would've liked. But more importantly he felt that as a band they were performing "absolute rubbish" at their live gigs and the fans were still going wild. He is said to have purposely stopped playing in the middle of a gig to note his band's reaction. To his surprise neither Baker nor Bruce realised he had stopped and continued playing on their own. To add to this Clapton was now listening to more voice driven soul music. In his interviews he mentions listening to Stevie Wonder the most during his final Cream days, in fact he co-wrote Badge with George Harrision in his last album with cream, minus any over the top guitaring because thats what he was aiming to move away from.

Cream eventually disbanded in 1968, and Clapton moved through several acts in rapid succession. He formed Blind Faith first alongside Baker, Steve Winwood and Rick Grech. It bombed. On being asked the reasons for its failure, Clapton said, "Our first live gig was before an audience 36000 strong. We couldn't handle it". He literally fled the arena with their opening act Delaney, Bonnie and Friends. Clapton had found this husband-wife soul outfit singing at a pub with no one listening to them. He liked them and invited them to open for Blind Faith. He toured with them as an additional guitar player for a while before stealing their rhythm section to go on to form Derek and the Dominos with whom he would release his ballad filled megahit album Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. It was during his tour of America with the Dominos that he met Duane Allman and invited him over to record with the Dominos. Duane Allman is found playing the slide guitar on 5 tracks in the album.

This album marks the end of the Clapton I worshipped and who led me to the kind of music and musicians I have now come to follow. Clapton would go on to become an immensely successul solo artist who played every kind of music that ever turned him on, without the fear of not being accepted or failing commercially. It was his art that was the only thing holy to him. Clapton would much later cover I shot the sherriff which would introduce reggae and Bob Marley to a global audience. In the 80s he started patronising the annual Crossroads Guitar Festival where he brought his teenage hero Buddy Guy to the world. Most of the Buddy Guy electric guitar albums available in music stores today have been recorded in the 80s even though he's been a recording artist since 1958. Clapton would also discover Stevie Ray Vaughan on the radio while driving his Cadillac, and bring him to the notice of the world.

To me Eric Clapton has been a sort of personal preacher/guru. His work introduced me to the music I listen to which in turn influences the way I choose to live and behave. Further he has influenced multitudes of guitar players I like including the likes of erstwhile blues artists such as Robert Cray, Bonnie Raitt and John Mayer. Also if it hadn't been for Clapton we would've probably never have known Stevie Ray Vaughan.

If I did believe in God I have a feeling he'd look like this.


A true blues spirit. May the legend of Slowhand live on forever. Atleast till I get to meet him. I don't know what I would say when I do meet him (and I will...before he dies on me) but I guess I will say Thank You to him, amongst everything that I might blurt out. A big fat Thank You for all the music Sir Eric. God of Guitar.