Less than six months after the launch of the Club, the Blue Frog Label is being launched today. The success of the Club and more particularly the tremendous reception of the live acts at the Club has already paved the way for the success of the label. I have little doubt that the label launch will be a tremendous success. There is a lot of curiosity and excitement about the launch of the label already.
The artists who are set to release their albums under Blue Frog Label are well established. I have heard some of them, and the quality of their music and sound is unquestionable. Why, John Mc Laughlin is releasing his next album under Blue Frog label! That sure is a vindication of the label’s musical soundness. Even the Indian artists under this label have created sounds that will wake you up and make you notice with awe!
The sophistication of the launch is almost a given. The 4 state-of-the-art studios are an acoustic delight and a technological marvel. Blue Frog guys do things in style, and I’m sure, the launch celebrations will have few sceptics.
The point of this blog, however, is not the launch of the label. It is about its sustainability. And its about creation of new music dynamics. Please indulge me in a bit of cause-and-effect analysis.
Lets start with the Blue Frog Club itself:
What has the Club achieved?
We all have our opinions, but the most telling statement came in from the lead guitarist of an upcoming band. “Shekhar,” he said in a voice dripping with excitement, “Can you believe it, Gibson is offering me a guitar as part of their promotion? I mean, its totally awesome. Who am I, a nobody. Why should Gibson offer me a guitar? I mean there are better guitarists in the city….” “Wow, but don’t sell yourself short, dude,” I said. He gushed, “Its all thanks to Blue Frog that musicians like us are getting some recognition… And more significantly, he added as an afterthought, ”Its such a learning experience for us. Each live performance we watch, teaches us something, one musical nuance here, another trick there, and sometimes, it also teaches us what not to do in a live act…”
That’s precisely what Blue Frog Club has achieved: In 6 short months, a single club in one city has galvanised musicians from all across the country to shape up their acts and be recognised for their musical skills. Live acts are being played all across the city and across many venues all across the country, but somehow, every musician wants to play at the Blue Frog. I know of some bands who would set up their act at any club at the drop of a hat, but to play at Blue Frog, they rehearse. They prepare a set list, they add new sounds to their repertoire, they even write new songs for a Blue Frog Act!
Added to the fact that almost every single international band who has played here has heaped praises for the venue and its audience tells us about the future. In one of my earlier blogs, I had mentioned that bands from all over the world should want to play at Blue Frog, and I’m given to understand, its already happening,
That brings me to my point here: What will Blue Frog Label achieve? And what does it foretell?
That it will achieve recognition, PR and hype, I have no doubts. That the albums launched by this label will sell quite a few copies is also inevitable. The question – and its literally a million dollar question – is will this be enough to sustain the label? The four studios with state-of-the-art technology is capable of producing some of the best sounds one has heard in recent years. But will this translate to voluminous sales that can sustain the Blue Frog label on its own without being subsidised by other streams of revenues?
I don’t have the answers. I don’t think even BF promoters have all the answers. All I know that if Blue Note can become a Very Reputable Label where legends like Oscar Peterson cut their live acts, I see no reason why Blue Frog label can not. After all, Bob Belden (of Blue Note fame) did play at Blue Frog! But will that be enough to make money for everyone, including musicians?
Early March last year, in two distinct rulings, one by the Federal Communications Commission, and the other by the Library of Congress' Copyright Royalty Board, the U.S. government took a firm stand in favour of small artists and music labels -- and local programming over media conglomerates -- even as it drove a regulatory stake through the heart of a fast-growing and popular medium for niche and independent music: Internet radio.
The two rulings set off a flurry of media coverage and online debate of the proper role of government in promoting diversity on the airwaves. They also painted a picture of a federal government at odds with itself about how to balance the rights of the public with those of artists, copyright holders and media conglomerates. But with music fans and artists increasingly disenchanted with the status quo and newly empowered by technology, the squabbling over royalties and copyright may already be causing a paradigm shift that will transform the music industry.
Let there not be even an iota of doubt that music industry is going through a phase of metamorphosis right now. The roadmap might still be vague and unclear, but that it will morph into something entirely different and perhaps unrecognizable is beyond doubt. In this rapidly evolving technological world, the music industry is seemingly willing to try anything to find new ways to stop the fiscal haemorrhage caused by free or downloading.
The only consensus is that over a period, you will be able to consume music just about anywhere and any way you want. From "personal subscriptions" to your favorite artists that will give you unprecedented access to them, to custom MP3 player mixes you'll be able to buy with a quick credit card swipe at the local coffee shop. Some envision virtual concerts in "Second Life," as well as a long-hyped celestial jukebox that could beam virtually any song ever recorded directly to your MP3 player.
A few of the changes are already here: Apple's recent deal with EMI Music to sell digital-rights-management-free songs at a premium which some think could lead to other major labels jumping aboard that wagon. Add that to the buzz that's been building since Apple's legal settlement earlier this year with the Beatles' Apple Corps that could pave the way for cheap, pre-loaded iPods containing an artist's entire catalog or song selections, to be sold at airports, bus depots or even at a concert. Will cell phones replace iPods? Can you attend concerts without leaving your home? The jury might still be hung, but the fact remains that music will only become more portable, customizable and bite-sized in the next few years.
For Blue Frog label, the most challenging task, according to me, is to expand the universe of listening audiences in India. With one club in Mumbai, the scope of creating a new set of audiences is kinda limited. Maybe they will franchise Blue Frogs in other cities in India and outside, maybe it will start a Blue Frog label promotional gig that tours smaller cities in India to expand the audience base, maybe it will start an Internet Radio Station that beams the live acts all across the globe and can be accessed only by nominal monthly rentals, maybe it will form an alliance with Apple to market Blue Frog I-Pods, maybe it will become the sole music franchisee of Electronic Arts for their games, maybe it will become the Mecca for all Indie acts and labels, maybe it will require to do all of these in a phased manner to make this venture a success.
Too many May-bes? May be. But it sure doesn’t require a bunch of Harvard grads to fix up this industry; in fact it might require a bunch of passionate Froggies who “feel the consuming public and the unknown musicians alike” who could well pave the path for the future of music.
Will Blue Frog be able to discover some lost marketing gem of an idea that has missed everyone by? Will it be able to infuse some new steroid to the haemorrhaging music industry?
As I said in the beginning, I don’t have the answers. All I know is that I would pay good money to store some of the acts performed live at Blue Frog. Preferably on a CD. I'm old school...
Monday, May 19, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Is there a formula for writing songs ?
Suzanne Vega, (most people I know would have heard of her; those who haven’t will surely google her) wrote a blog recently in NY Times on April 15th that has generated hordes of comment and debate. I’m gonna steal shamelessly from Suzanne’s blog just to maker a point. Why? Because since the day I remember asking where do babies come from, one question that has intrigued me is how do people write songs? Well I figured out the baby question long ago and haven’t stopped testing the answer since. The other question still intrigues me. Each time I listen to a great song, I tend to say, Damn, how on earth do they write it.
Ms Vega’s piece is illuminating. I’m excerpting it here, for two reasons: all wannabe musicians need to read this. And accomplished ones who’ll have their own theories and insights need to add them here, For those who want to learn the creativity process. They owe it to the audience. At least to me. For musician I might not be, and perhaps never will, but yeah, find another music lover like me, and it’ll perhaps be me.
But most of all, this piece is also to herald the launch of Blue Frog Studio Label scheduled sometime this month. I’ve heard that the studios are almost complete. I haven’t yet seen it and I have little clue about the label, but I hope that in spirit, its in tandem with what I wrote on my very first blog in Jan 08! For I do feel many Indian acts right now require some great magical producers to centrifuge this label out of the orbit!
Lets read Suzanne Vega’s blog:
When I was a teenager, I used to have a neat sort of formula for writing songs. It worked over and over, and I got about 60 songs out of it. Now it doesn’t work so well, and I am forced to write in all different ways. But what worked for so long was this I would start to write a song sometime late Saturday afternoon. Then, after dinner, when everyone in my family was doing other Saturday-night things, I would go into my room by myself and fool around with the guitar for several hours, usually managing to hammer out some kind of idea. In those days the chords came first, and they depended on what I was singing about. Then the melody, and lastly the lyrics.
Each chord told a piece of a story, and by putting the chords together in a certain way you had a musical narrative. Major chords = happy. Minor chords = sad. Sevenths were sort of sexy and bluesy. Augmented and diminished chords were spooky and spiritual, so I had a lot of those.
Most of the time I didn’t know the names of the chords or what kinds of chords they were; I learned that later when I worked with a band and producers. But in the beginning I worked from a book called ”Pop Songs of the Sixties” that had little pictures of the fretboard and showed where to put your fingers. (Actually, I have never learned to read music and still don’t to this day. I have always depended on the kindness of arrangers! Hahaha)
So I would string together a few chords that worked with whatever the idea at hand was, or whatever the mood of the day was. And then repeat them. The chords made a safe home for the melody, a bed for the melody to lie down on, sort of. So you had to shape the melody to the chords in some cool way. The idea that a melody could be its own clear idea didn’t really occur to me until much later. Melodies have always been hard for me. What I love is rhythm.
It occurs to me that a melody is as precise and inviolate as a skeleton. You can vary it a little, but not much, really, if you want it to be recognizable. And that particular melody is a wonderful mix of dangerous unresolved intervals and jazzy light hearted vaudeville. Ultimately, we all decided that if I spoke the beginning, that would work dramatically.
{Once I heard Pandit Ravi Shankar do a version of a Bengali folk song, “O Lolita, O ke aaj chole jete bol naa” in Raag Bhairavi. That was one of the several “A-Ha” musical moments for me. I had discovered the magic of melody. And the past couple of months, I’ve often wondered how would it sound if Dhruv and Harmeet and Sanjay and Adrian use Raag Darbari as a melody in 12 bar blues rhythm!}
But back to the teenage formula. Usually I would get say 80 percent of it done on Saturday night. I would work until about 1:00 in the morning. Most of the time there was a piece eluding me that I would sleep on. Maybe it was a final lyrical detail. Maybe it was a chord in the bridge that had to go somewhere unexpected. What I found was that by sleeping on it, some dream logic would creep into the song and give it an extra sparkle.
Now it’s different. I don’t have the hours at home that follow one after the other. I can’t imagine working from 8:00 until 1:00 in the morning without some kind of interruption, and when I wake up on Sunday morning I am not running over to the guitar to see what the missing piece was. Usually I am thinking, “Where’s Ruby? What does she have to do today?” (Ruby is my daughter.) Or answering the phone or staring at my husband in his sleep.
What worked for the last album was getting out of the house. I was having so much trouble concentrating at home (”I need to clean the closets!”) that I hired an engineer (Britt Myers) to come to my house to work with me for three hours a day, three times a week. Those first days were agony, and when I sang the opening lines of “Bound” to Britt for the first time, I felt as though something crazy and weird were coming out of my mouth, like snakes. Now it is a real song, and though I still sing it with heartfelt emotion, it feels finished. But any song in the beginning is raw and uncooked and wobbly
Eventually Britt persuaded me to come down to his studio to work, and we got a lot done. In fact much of the last album was created there at Great City Productions. So this year, when I came off the road, I thought, “Great! Let’s get right back to work!” — and booked myself a bunch of studio time. Which now I have been steadfastly avoiding. I mean, I had jury duty and everything. But we have two days booked at the end of this week. So let’s see what comes slithering out”
If any of you musicians do resonate with this reptilian interpretation of your muse, please do let me know.
What I know is there are nights when I’m OK with dominance of either. I enjoy those nights and marvel at the skills. And then there are those nights when melody and rhythm make love, sensuously, passionately, wantonly, … Those nights are special.
What’ll Blue Frog Label be like?
Ms Vega’s piece is illuminating. I’m excerpting it here, for two reasons: all wannabe musicians need to read this. And accomplished ones who’ll have their own theories and insights need to add them here, For those who want to learn the creativity process. They owe it to the audience. At least to me. For musician I might not be, and perhaps never will, but yeah, find another music lover like me, and it’ll perhaps be me.
But most of all, this piece is also to herald the launch of Blue Frog Studio Label scheduled sometime this month. I’ve heard that the studios are almost complete. I haven’t yet seen it and I have little clue about the label, but I hope that in spirit, its in tandem with what I wrote on my very first blog in Jan 08! For I do feel many Indian acts right now require some great magical producers to centrifuge this label out of the orbit!
Lets read Suzanne Vega’s blog:
When I was a teenager, I used to have a neat sort of formula for writing songs. It worked over and over, and I got about 60 songs out of it. Now it doesn’t work so well, and I am forced to write in all different ways. But what worked for so long was this I would start to write a song sometime late Saturday afternoon. Then, after dinner, when everyone in my family was doing other Saturday-night things, I would go into my room by myself and fool around with the guitar for several hours, usually managing to hammer out some kind of idea. In those days the chords came first, and they depended on what I was singing about. Then the melody, and lastly the lyrics.
Each chord told a piece of a story, and by putting the chords together in a certain way you had a musical narrative. Major chords = happy. Minor chords = sad. Sevenths were sort of sexy and bluesy. Augmented and diminished chords were spooky and spiritual, so I had a lot of those.
Most of the time I didn’t know the names of the chords or what kinds of chords they were; I learned that later when I worked with a band and producers. But in the beginning I worked from a book called ”Pop Songs of the Sixties” that had little pictures of the fretboard and showed where to put your fingers. (Actually, I have never learned to read music and still don’t to this day. I have always depended on the kindness of arrangers! Hahaha)
So I would string together a few chords that worked with whatever the idea at hand was, or whatever the mood of the day was. And then repeat them. The chords made a safe home for the melody, a bed for the melody to lie down on, sort of. So you had to shape the melody to the chords in some cool way. The idea that a melody could be its own clear idea didn’t really occur to me until much later. Melodies have always been hard for me. What I love is rhythm.
It occurs to me that a melody is as precise and inviolate as a skeleton. You can vary it a little, but not much, really, if you want it to be recognizable. And that particular melody is a wonderful mix of dangerous unresolved intervals and jazzy light hearted vaudeville. Ultimately, we all decided that if I spoke the beginning, that would work dramatically.
{Once I heard Pandit Ravi Shankar do a version of a Bengali folk song, “O Lolita, O ke aaj chole jete bol naa” in Raag Bhairavi. That was one of the several “A-Ha” musical moments for me. I had discovered the magic of melody. And the past couple of months, I’ve often wondered how would it sound if Dhruv and Harmeet and Sanjay and Adrian use Raag Darbari as a melody in 12 bar blues rhythm!}
But back to the teenage formula. Usually I would get say 80 percent of it done on Saturday night. I would work until about 1:00 in the morning. Most of the time there was a piece eluding me that I would sleep on. Maybe it was a final lyrical detail. Maybe it was a chord in the bridge that had to go somewhere unexpected. What I found was that by sleeping on it, some dream logic would creep into the song and give it an extra sparkle.
Now it’s different. I don’t have the hours at home that follow one after the other. I can’t imagine working from 8:00 until 1:00 in the morning without some kind of interruption, and when I wake up on Sunday morning I am not running over to the guitar to see what the missing piece was. Usually I am thinking, “Where’s Ruby? What does she have to do today?” (Ruby is my daughter.) Or answering the phone or staring at my husband in his sleep.
What worked for the last album was getting out of the house. I was having so much trouble concentrating at home (”I need to clean the closets!”) that I hired an engineer (Britt Myers) to come to my house to work with me for three hours a day, three times a week. Those first days were agony, and when I sang the opening lines of “Bound” to Britt for the first time, I felt as though something crazy and weird were coming out of my mouth, like snakes. Now it is a real song, and though I still sing it with heartfelt emotion, it feels finished. But any song in the beginning is raw and uncooked and wobbly
Eventually Britt persuaded me to come down to his studio to work, and we got a lot done. In fact much of the last album was created there at Great City Productions. So this year, when I came off the road, I thought, “Great! Let’s get right back to work!” — and booked myself a bunch of studio time. Which now I have been steadfastly avoiding. I mean, I had jury duty and everything. But we have two days booked at the end of this week. So let’s see what comes slithering out”
If any of you musicians do resonate with this reptilian interpretation of your muse, please do let me know.
What I know is there are nights when I’m OK with dominance of either. I enjoy those nights and marvel at the skills. And then there are those nights when melody and rhythm make love, sensuously, passionately, wantonly, … Those nights are special.
What’ll Blue Frog Label be like?
Monday, March 31, 2008
Brave New World at Blue Frog
You can love him or hate him, but damn you just can’t be indifferent to his music. It seems he played live after 14 years. Was it the stage block (a la writers’ block) that had been keeping him off stage? Or was it an intrinsic reticence on his part. A few times I asked him, he sounded rather defensive, “Aww I ain’t as talented as some of the guys who play here, I’m not actually a musician, I’m just a composer…”
In his own way, I think he was trying to tell me not to expect incendiary instrumental skills during his performance. I also feel he wasn’t too sure of the impact of the music on the Blue Frog audiences. He might even have been unsure of himself about how would he be able to pull on a live act. He must be feeling rusted, and nervous and apprehensive.
Thank God, Ashutosh Phatak did not pursue his Wharton MBA. And thank God for his dad who from the first row was egging him for an encore (“One for your dad?”). For, it must take special dads to be cool about opting for music instead of Whartons. I have a friend whose son – a maths grad, no less – plays in a band full time. This friend is special. SO I know what kind of dads inspire their sons, oh-so-subtly...
Ashu is a dreamer. And it reflects on his music. I don’t exactly understand what “psy-fi” (psychological fiction?) means. Sounds pretentious to me, but the music that Ashu had composed was anything but pretentious. Even a track titled Plastic Poetry had pretentiousness shorn off, loud and clear.
In fact, the music that night had all the ingredients that would captivate a 5,000 strong crowd. For the 350 odd present that night, it was indeed a brave new world that was transgressed that night. I don’t know if Ashu had soma – I’m sure he didn’t – but the operatic rendition of all inclusive genre of music that he had composed has to be listened to with scrutiny. If music needed to be added to Huxley, Ashu had got it pat. A composition would start with a blues flavour, progress into jazz, break into gospel, soul, funk, R&B, rhythm, shriek its way into metal and rock, and then come back to the soulful vocals. His compositions had them all, but what I loved was the way each merged with the other, seamlessly, effortlessly, liltingly and it was fuckin’ awesome!
Ashu’s music (not to be confused with Iron Maiden’s album, Brave New World – yes, that too is based on Huxley’s classic), particularly reminded me of Huxley and of what GBS wrote about Brave New World, “…A new bitterness, and a new bewilderment, ran through all social life, and was reflected in all literature and art. It was contemptuous, not only of old Capitalism, but of the old socialism. Brave New World is more of rebvolt against Utopia than against Victoria (as in Victorian self-righteousness)”
Alter the co-ordinates, add today’s social dimensions, set it against today’s context, and the 90 minute performance that night gains a significance that all musicians and patrons need to take note. Songs like Epiphany (confession: that’s the only name I remember now and Plastic Poetry, a name I didn’t like much) and the music that he has composed for all the tracks actually define to me not just the social and psychological angst of individuals, it throws open the political gauntlet too, in an individual idiom, of course.
The explanation of his music on the website reads, “Mumbai-born composer ASHUTOSH PHATAK’s music is the stuff of dreams. Opulent, lucid and at times unsettling, Ashu’s mystic soundscapes artfully weave stories of love and loss, of hope and fear: stories that are at once intensely personal and invitingly universal. His psy-fi rock operas are best listened to in their entirety, and offer an immersive sensory experience that immediately engulfs. Both his debut album ‘I’ and upcoming sophomore release ‘Epiphany’ are rooted in duality, and exist in fantastic worlds that are intimate, expansive and rich in their visual imagery. But listener beware: this is not music for the faint of heart, journeying as it does between the ethereal and the nightmarish.”
Discount the hype, delete the psychological mumbo-jumbo, just home in to the last line. It truly is not for the faint hearted or wimpy fence-sitters. This is a music that gets your adrenalin rushing, this is a music that will either prompt you to dig into your lover to draw blood or prompt you to snatch the batons from the pigs and break all the glasses in your vicinity. Certain tracks incite you to a never-ending foreplay while others made me feel like going back to boxing rink and pound each other’s flesh out. It made you scream, exult, cry, fight, in a truly cathartic way.
What was highly impressive was the musicians who came that night to accompany Ashu. Himself on keys and vocals, it was Vivian Pocha’s black mama’s voice, that added the soul, Sanjay Dwivecha’s guitar riffs and wails that permeated the genres, and most of all it was the drummer (I can never remember his name) who continued punching the adrenalin rush, inexorably, and mercilessly. I, however, missed some heavy metal guitaring in portions. There were times when Sanjay’s guitar plucks and wails needed to be complemented by some Hendrix-like electric guitar riffs and wah-wahs. In hindsight, its OK, because if they had a bit of heavier metal, who knows, the crowd could have stampeded or broken a few crockery.
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I feel that maybe someone should make a rock opera kind of a movie based on Huxley’s Brave New World in the 21st century. Just film it on two characters, Bernard and Lenina and maybe John and Linda, posit it against the social indifference and Page 3 uniformity of today and you have a context. Put Ashu’s performance with live musicians on the stage and you have a recipe for an experiment worth trying.
If only I had the brains and creativity of Mahesh and his team…
In his own way, I think he was trying to tell me not to expect incendiary instrumental skills during his performance. I also feel he wasn’t too sure of the impact of the music on the Blue Frog audiences. He might even have been unsure of himself about how would he be able to pull on a live act. He must be feeling rusted, and nervous and apprehensive.
Thank God, Ashutosh Phatak did not pursue his Wharton MBA. And thank God for his dad who from the first row was egging him for an encore (“One for your dad?”). For, it must take special dads to be cool about opting for music instead of Whartons. I have a friend whose son – a maths grad, no less – plays in a band full time. This friend is special. SO I know what kind of dads inspire their sons, oh-so-subtly...
Ashu is a dreamer. And it reflects on his music. I don’t exactly understand what “psy-fi” (psychological fiction?) means. Sounds pretentious to me, but the music that Ashu had composed was anything but pretentious. Even a track titled Plastic Poetry had pretentiousness shorn off, loud and clear.
In fact, the music that night had all the ingredients that would captivate a 5,000 strong crowd. For the 350 odd present that night, it was indeed a brave new world that was transgressed that night. I don’t know if Ashu had soma – I’m sure he didn’t – but the operatic rendition of all inclusive genre of music that he had composed has to be listened to with scrutiny. If music needed to be added to Huxley, Ashu had got it pat. A composition would start with a blues flavour, progress into jazz, break into gospel, soul, funk, R&B, rhythm, shriek its way into metal and rock, and then come back to the soulful vocals. His compositions had them all, but what I loved was the way each merged with the other, seamlessly, effortlessly, liltingly and it was fuckin’ awesome!
Ashu’s music (not to be confused with Iron Maiden’s album, Brave New World – yes, that too is based on Huxley’s classic), particularly reminded me of Huxley and of what GBS wrote about Brave New World, “…A new bitterness, and a new bewilderment, ran through all social life, and was reflected in all literature and art. It was contemptuous, not only of old Capitalism, but of the old socialism. Brave New World is more of rebvolt against Utopia than against Victoria (as in Victorian self-righteousness)”
Alter the co-ordinates, add today’s social dimensions, set it against today’s context, and the 90 minute performance that night gains a significance that all musicians and patrons need to take note. Songs like Epiphany (confession: that’s the only name I remember now and Plastic Poetry, a name I didn’t like much) and the music that he has composed for all the tracks actually define to me not just the social and psychological angst of individuals, it throws open the political gauntlet too, in an individual idiom, of course.
The explanation of his music on the website reads, “Mumbai-born composer ASHUTOSH PHATAK’s music is the stuff of dreams. Opulent, lucid and at times unsettling, Ashu’s mystic soundscapes artfully weave stories of love and loss, of hope and fear: stories that are at once intensely personal and invitingly universal. His psy-fi rock operas are best listened to in their entirety, and offer an immersive sensory experience that immediately engulfs. Both his debut album ‘I’ and upcoming sophomore release ‘Epiphany’ are rooted in duality, and exist in fantastic worlds that are intimate, expansive and rich in their visual imagery. But listener beware: this is not music for the faint of heart, journeying as it does between the ethereal and the nightmarish.”
Discount the hype, delete the psychological mumbo-jumbo, just home in to the last line. It truly is not for the faint hearted or wimpy fence-sitters. This is a music that gets your adrenalin rushing, this is a music that will either prompt you to dig into your lover to draw blood or prompt you to snatch the batons from the pigs and break all the glasses in your vicinity. Certain tracks incite you to a never-ending foreplay while others made me feel like going back to boxing rink and pound each other’s flesh out. It made you scream, exult, cry, fight, in a truly cathartic way.
What was highly impressive was the musicians who came that night to accompany Ashu. Himself on keys and vocals, it was Vivian Pocha’s black mama’s voice, that added the soul, Sanjay Dwivecha’s guitar riffs and wails that permeated the genres, and most of all it was the drummer (I can never remember his name) who continued punching the adrenalin rush, inexorably, and mercilessly. I, however, missed some heavy metal guitaring in portions. There were times when Sanjay’s guitar plucks and wails needed to be complemented by some Hendrix-like electric guitar riffs and wah-wahs. In hindsight, its OK, because if they had a bit of heavier metal, who knows, the crowd could have stampeded or broken a few crockery.
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I feel that maybe someone should make a rock opera kind of a movie based on Huxley’s Brave New World in the 21st century. Just film it on two characters, Bernard and Lenina and maybe John and Linda, posit it against the social indifference and Page 3 uniformity of today and you have a context. Put Ashu’s performance with live musicians on the stage and you have a recipe for an experiment worth trying.
If only I had the brains and creativity of Mahesh and his team…
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Bob Belden of Blue Note fame plays at Blue Frog!
Am I willing to eat crow? Not yet but Bob Belden and his Animation came pretty close to making me eat my words. Guitarist Al Street, Drummer Rocky Bryant, bassist David Dyson and DJ Logic performed at Blue Frog and I was there both the days.
For those who might not be aware of Belden, he’s an American saxophonist, arranger, composer, bandleader and producer. His sense of arrangement and compositions was quite evident on both the days, particularly the second night when he invited Mumbai artists to jam with the band. But to put things in perspective, one first needs to understand Belden’s credentials and his musical pedigree.
One of the most adventurous arrangers of the 1990s and 2000s, Bob Belden took the music of Puccini, Prince, and (with the most success) Sting, and turned it into jazz. (Remember in one my earlier blogs I did mention the jazz potential of Sting’s Probably me) In his formative years, Belden studied saxophone with Lou Marini Sr., father of famed jazz saxophonist, Lou Marini (Buddy Rich Big Band, Blood, Sweat and Tears, best known as "Blue Lou" of the Blues Brothers Band). Belden also assisted with Columbia Records' Miles Davis reissue program. He played in a duet with trumpeter Tim Hagans, issuing a live album on Blue Note in 2000 entitled Re-Animation Live!
But Belden will always be known for his 2001 release Black Dahlia. In 1947, a Hollywood actress called Elizabeth Short was murdered, It was covered extensively in the press and involved the entire Los Angeles police force. A young girl who moved to Los Angeles from Massachusetts to pursue her dream of fame, Short moved through a series of seamy encounters that eventually ended with her shudderingly gruesome murder. Police called it “The Black Dahlia Murder” because of the blackness of her hair and the attractiveness of her dresses. I think I have seen the movie as well. James Ellroy later wrote the novel, “Black Dahlia” that provided the inspiration to Belden.
It seems that the musical intellect of Belden merged with his interest in melodrama to spark a composition in 12 parts that captures Short's imagined state of mind. Starting with the “Genesis” section, Black Dahlia interjects an attention-grabbing exclamation before Belden develops a dreamy wonder described by Lawrence Feldman's alto. Alluding to Belden's fondness for Miles Davis' work, as does “Dreamworld,” “In Flight” then takes her from home, breezily depicted by muted trumpet and Ira Coleman's thrilling accelerated pace “City Of Angels,” as performed by Tim Hagans describes Los Angeles in serene, glowing harmonic ascents and descents with references to Jerry Goldsmith's stunning score for the movie Chinatown.
Black Dahlia, without a doubt, will be remembered as the most ambitious jazz recording of the recent past. Rather than a blowing session, influential though blowing sessions may be, Bob Belden's Black Dahlia is an extended story-telling, romantic and fatalistic suite that was three years in the making. In addition, over sixty musicians were required to fill the symphony orchestra that accomplishes Belden's vision.
The story was necessary to understand what Bob Belden was doing those days in India and at Blue Frog. He would start a tune, a melody , and let DJ Logic play magic with his hands and vinyl. Born Jason Kibler, DJ Logic is a turntablist active primarily in jazz and with jam bands. His own recordings are perhaps best described as contemporary soul jazz with a strong hip hop feel. An early interest in hip hop led to his using the turntables, but he was also interested in funk and jazz music, and began collaborating with various musicians. His own recordings are perhaps best described as contemporary soul jazz with a strong hip hop feel. Kibler tours often with his own group, Project Logic, and has recorded or performed with Vernon Reid, John Mayer, Medeski Martin & Wood, Bob Belden, Jack Johnson, Chris Whitley, Uri Caine, Christian McBride and others.
And he sure turned the tables that separated the men from the boys. One hand would pluck notes like in an acoustic guitar while the other one turned the vinyl. But the electronic sound tasted different. It had the finesse of avante garde jazz, rhythm of swinging dance beat, panache of jazzy improvisations and the maturity of knowing when to seek inspiration.
That inspiration was provided in no small measure by the bassist David Dyson. Unfortunately, there were only a few moments by Dyson but I was almost transfixed by his jazz-funk style of bass. At times, he let loose a two-minute slap groove that left my mouth in a perfect “o.” It didn’t lack for pyrotechnics, but what floored me was how the rhythmic and melodic content of the slap lines kept evolving, as if it were a simple fingerstyle R&B or blues bass line. His slap technique showed up as a flawless extension of his musicality.
I also felt that Al Street would play the blues as brilliantly as rock. He showed traces of both. And what a guitarist he is! A bit subdued at times, but once he gets the cue, man, you don’t need a wild imagination like mine to guess his potential.
Once again, I found the Sunday show at Blue Frog as the climax. In the second set, when Beldon invited our own Dhruv and Louiz, and Harmeet with his magical fingers (I can bet they had met earlier and kind of jammed a bit), the effect was magical. With DJ Logic and drummer Bryant keeping the tempo going, Dhruv, Street, Harmeet and Bassist Dyson were just magical. That Dhruv never ceases to surprise me with his repertoire. It was a class act in all senses of the term.
And when Beldon announced that his next album will have Indian sounds, remember my first blog. This is what Blue Frog is all about: a catalyst in the musical future. Last Sunday, the Frog leaped across yet another threshold of respectability.
For those who might not be aware of Belden, he’s an American saxophonist, arranger, composer, bandleader and producer. His sense of arrangement and compositions was quite evident on both the days, particularly the second night when he invited Mumbai artists to jam with the band. But to put things in perspective, one first needs to understand Belden’s credentials and his musical pedigree.
One of the most adventurous arrangers of the 1990s and 2000s, Bob Belden took the music of Puccini, Prince, and (with the most success) Sting, and turned it into jazz. (Remember in one my earlier blogs I did mention the jazz potential of Sting’s Probably me) In his formative years, Belden studied saxophone with Lou Marini Sr., father of famed jazz saxophonist, Lou Marini (Buddy Rich Big Band, Blood, Sweat and Tears, best known as "Blue Lou" of the Blues Brothers Band). Belden also assisted with Columbia Records' Miles Davis reissue program. He played in a duet with trumpeter Tim Hagans, issuing a live album on Blue Note in 2000 entitled Re-Animation Live!
But Belden will always be known for his 2001 release Black Dahlia. In 1947, a Hollywood actress called Elizabeth Short was murdered, It was covered extensively in the press and involved the entire Los Angeles police force. A young girl who moved to Los Angeles from Massachusetts to pursue her dream of fame, Short moved through a series of seamy encounters that eventually ended with her shudderingly gruesome murder. Police called it “The Black Dahlia Murder” because of the blackness of her hair and the attractiveness of her dresses. I think I have seen the movie as well. James Ellroy later wrote the novel, “Black Dahlia” that provided the inspiration to Belden.
It seems that the musical intellect of Belden merged with his interest in melodrama to spark a composition in 12 parts that captures Short's imagined state of mind. Starting with the “Genesis” section, Black Dahlia interjects an attention-grabbing exclamation before Belden develops a dreamy wonder described by Lawrence Feldman's alto. Alluding to Belden's fondness for Miles Davis' work, as does “Dreamworld,” “In Flight” then takes her from home, breezily depicted by muted trumpet and Ira Coleman's thrilling accelerated pace “City Of Angels,” as performed by Tim Hagans describes Los Angeles in serene, glowing harmonic ascents and descents with references to Jerry Goldsmith's stunning score for the movie Chinatown.
Black Dahlia, without a doubt, will be remembered as the most ambitious jazz recording of the recent past. Rather than a blowing session, influential though blowing sessions may be, Bob Belden's Black Dahlia is an extended story-telling, romantic and fatalistic suite that was three years in the making. In addition, over sixty musicians were required to fill the symphony orchestra that accomplishes Belden's vision.
The story was necessary to understand what Bob Belden was doing those days in India and at Blue Frog. He would start a tune, a melody , and let DJ Logic play magic with his hands and vinyl. Born Jason Kibler, DJ Logic is a turntablist active primarily in jazz and with jam bands. His own recordings are perhaps best described as contemporary soul jazz with a strong hip hop feel. An early interest in hip hop led to his using the turntables, but he was also interested in funk and jazz music, and began collaborating with various musicians. His own recordings are perhaps best described as contemporary soul jazz with a strong hip hop feel. Kibler tours often with his own group, Project Logic, and has recorded or performed with Vernon Reid, John Mayer, Medeski Martin & Wood, Bob Belden, Jack Johnson, Chris Whitley, Uri Caine, Christian McBride and others.
And he sure turned the tables that separated the men from the boys. One hand would pluck notes like in an acoustic guitar while the other one turned the vinyl. But the electronic sound tasted different. It had the finesse of avante garde jazz, rhythm of swinging dance beat, panache of jazzy improvisations and the maturity of knowing when to seek inspiration.
That inspiration was provided in no small measure by the bassist David Dyson. Unfortunately, there were only a few moments by Dyson but I was almost transfixed by his jazz-funk style of bass. At times, he let loose a two-minute slap groove that left my mouth in a perfect “o.” It didn’t lack for pyrotechnics, but what floored me was how the rhythmic and melodic content of the slap lines kept evolving, as if it were a simple fingerstyle R&B or blues bass line. His slap technique showed up as a flawless extension of his musicality.
I also felt that Al Street would play the blues as brilliantly as rock. He showed traces of both. And what a guitarist he is! A bit subdued at times, but once he gets the cue, man, you don’t need a wild imagination like mine to guess his potential.
Once again, I found the Sunday show at Blue Frog as the climax. In the second set, when Beldon invited our own Dhruv and Louiz, and Harmeet with his magical fingers (I can bet they had met earlier and kind of jammed a bit), the effect was magical. With DJ Logic and drummer Bryant keeping the tempo going, Dhruv, Street, Harmeet and Bassist Dyson were just magical. That Dhruv never ceases to surprise me with his repertoire. It was a class act in all senses of the term.
And when Beldon announced that his next album will have Indian sounds, remember my first blog. This is what Blue Frog is all about: a catalyst in the musical future. Last Sunday, the Frog leaped across yet another threshold of respectability.
The Washington Post Story
Well, within three months of Blue Frog, Washington Post carries a story on Blue Frog. Well, Mahesh Mathai is NOT a Bollywood film director and the sound engoneers are from London, NOT LA. Rest is for you to read.
Time Zones: Friday Night at a Mumbai Hot Spot
Where the Glitterati Go to Listen, Hip-Hop Meets Indian Classical
Gallery
By Emily Wax
Washington Post Foreign Service
Tuesday, March 11, 2008; Page A14
MUMBAI It's 10:30 on a Friday night and already a big, breathless crowd is trying to get into a former warehouse here. Inside is the Blue Frog, one of this city's few live music venues, which six nights a week hosts a stream of international rock and hip-hop acts that often fuse their sounds with Indian classical music.
People who make it through the door squeeze up to the bar. Apple martinis, cranberry flirtinis, cosmos and mojitos are all on offer, the usual libation lineup on the globalized lounge scene.
Nearby there's bright white pod seating, surrounded with glowing blue lights. Positioned around the stage, each pod looks something like a giant lily pad tinged in blue. Patrons are left to imagine the blue frog that might be resting on it.
Those lucky enough to score a pod -- heroes and heroines from Bollywood films, models and modelizers, plus a few literati -- settle in for the evening. They eye the crowd. But this is not a place where people come just to see and be seen. They come to listen.
Around them beats one of India's most powerful sound systems. Concert-size speakers are bolted to the rafters. The off-white walls are bubbled, as if beach balls were trying to squeeze through, the contours cutting the acoustic bounce that can muddy the music.
A sound engineer from Los Angeles designed the system, and high fidelity extends from the nightclub to the recording studios next door, which produce some of the up-and-coming acts that take the stage here.
Pushing through the crowd at 10:46 is Mahesh Mathai, a popular Bollywood filmmaker who co-founded the three-month-old club, along with a few musicians, a restaurateur and an MBA.
Mathai, who sports a sleek Caesar haircut, delivers a quick double-kiss hello to a pretty female friend. Then, raising his voice to be heard above the din, he explains that the club is "every boy's dream. . . . We wanted music to be the soul of the club. Everyone in Bombay thought it was time for a place that broke all the cliches of listening to classical Indian music in a conference hall. We wanted our sound to be fresh, to break down global boundaries."
As India's economy rises, it seems, so does the quality of its music scene.
The Blue Frog provides visual stimulation, too. On giant video screens suspended above the stage are streaming psychedelic montages of animated dancing babies, 1960s-style light-show shapes pulsating to the beat and cartoon-like figures rocking out with air guitars.
Since this is India, where people love to eat when they drink, there's a full kitchen with an award-winning chef, dishing up plate after plate of chi-chi foods -- ricotta and tangerine tortellini pot stickers with saffron aioli, perhaps, or duck breast with maple, mustard and coffee marinade.
Sucking down a cold beer and biting into some sweet chicken wings, Shiram Misra, 32, sits in one of the pods, which hold five to 10 people and are positioned so that the stage is always visible over the heads of others.
"The place is stunning and the food is a hit. But this place has music at its heart," said Misra, who does marketing for a liquor company. "We were so desperate for this in India, to find a place that really centers around the acoustics. It's a gift to India and anyone who appreciates sound."
At 11:15, the evening's live band explodes onto the stage. It's a six-man Austrian hip-hop group called Bauchklang, which might be translated as "tummy tones." They have no instruments.
They do bass with ultra-fast roars from the gut, they whistle, they blow out puffs of air -- all the time holding microphones close to their lips. They make keyboard sounds with blips and burps and mouth clicks. The group's latest CD describes one member as "mouth percussion," another as "human beatbox."
All of the sounds are amplified; the bass makes the whole room tremble. Clubgoers, in awe, pour onto the dance floor. Everyone is grooving and moving.
But the highlight of the night comes at 11:45, when classical Indian crooner Shilpa Rao, who sings for Bollywood movies, joins the band onstage. The resulting blend of hip-hop sounds and her velvety voice is smooth and magical.
Soon another Indian artist joins the Austrians to imitate the Indian tabla drum with his mouth. Tak, dada, tak, tak. The Austrians add their own beats. The crowd cheers, camera phones click, cocktails are polished off.
"We are in Bombay, the new India. Why not have this kind of club?" exclaimed Sarah Jane, one of the country's several Miss Indias. "When we hear the music of young India we feel more alive."
Outside, just after midnight, the line is growing longer, with the young Indians bobbing their heads to the beat filtering out.
ends
I bet there'll be many more international media coverage on the Frog!
Time Zones: Friday Night at a Mumbai Hot Spot
Where the Glitterati Go to Listen, Hip-Hop Meets Indian Classical
Gallery
By Emily Wax
Washington Post Foreign Service
Tuesday, March 11, 2008; Page A14
MUMBAI It's 10:30 on a Friday night and already a big, breathless crowd is trying to get into a former warehouse here. Inside is the Blue Frog, one of this city's few live music venues, which six nights a week hosts a stream of international rock and hip-hop acts that often fuse their sounds with Indian classical music.
People who make it through the door squeeze up to the bar. Apple martinis, cranberry flirtinis, cosmos and mojitos are all on offer, the usual libation lineup on the globalized lounge scene.
Nearby there's bright white pod seating, surrounded with glowing blue lights. Positioned around the stage, each pod looks something like a giant lily pad tinged in blue. Patrons are left to imagine the blue frog that might be resting on it.
Those lucky enough to score a pod -- heroes and heroines from Bollywood films, models and modelizers, plus a few literati -- settle in for the evening. They eye the crowd. But this is not a place where people come just to see and be seen. They come to listen.
Around them beats one of India's most powerful sound systems. Concert-size speakers are bolted to the rafters. The off-white walls are bubbled, as if beach balls were trying to squeeze through, the contours cutting the acoustic bounce that can muddy the music.
A sound engineer from Los Angeles designed the system, and high fidelity extends from the nightclub to the recording studios next door, which produce some of the up-and-coming acts that take the stage here.
Pushing through the crowd at 10:46 is Mahesh Mathai, a popular Bollywood filmmaker who co-founded the three-month-old club, along with a few musicians, a restaurateur and an MBA.
Mathai, who sports a sleek Caesar haircut, delivers a quick double-kiss hello to a pretty female friend. Then, raising his voice to be heard above the din, he explains that the club is "every boy's dream. . . . We wanted music to be the soul of the club. Everyone in Bombay thought it was time for a place that broke all the cliches of listening to classical Indian music in a conference hall. We wanted our sound to be fresh, to break down global boundaries."
As India's economy rises, it seems, so does the quality of its music scene.
The Blue Frog provides visual stimulation, too. On giant video screens suspended above the stage are streaming psychedelic montages of animated dancing babies, 1960s-style light-show shapes pulsating to the beat and cartoon-like figures rocking out with air guitars.
Since this is India, where people love to eat when they drink, there's a full kitchen with an award-winning chef, dishing up plate after plate of chi-chi foods -- ricotta and tangerine tortellini pot stickers with saffron aioli, perhaps, or duck breast with maple, mustard and coffee marinade.
Sucking down a cold beer and biting into some sweet chicken wings, Shiram Misra, 32, sits in one of the pods, which hold five to 10 people and are positioned so that the stage is always visible over the heads of others.
"The place is stunning and the food is a hit. But this place has music at its heart," said Misra, who does marketing for a liquor company. "We were so desperate for this in India, to find a place that really centers around the acoustics. It's a gift to India and anyone who appreciates sound."
At 11:15, the evening's live band explodes onto the stage. It's a six-man Austrian hip-hop group called Bauchklang, which might be translated as "tummy tones." They have no instruments.
They do bass with ultra-fast roars from the gut, they whistle, they blow out puffs of air -- all the time holding microphones close to their lips. They make keyboard sounds with blips and burps and mouth clicks. The group's latest CD describes one member as "mouth percussion," another as "human beatbox."
All of the sounds are amplified; the bass makes the whole room tremble. Clubgoers, in awe, pour onto the dance floor. Everyone is grooving and moving.
But the highlight of the night comes at 11:45, when classical Indian crooner Shilpa Rao, who sings for Bollywood movies, joins the band onstage. The resulting blend of hip-hop sounds and her velvety voice is smooth and magical.
Soon another Indian artist joins the Austrians to imitate the Indian tabla drum with his mouth. Tak, dada, tak, tak. The Austrians add their own beats. The crowd cheers, camera phones click, cocktails are polished off.
"We are in Bombay, the new India. Why not have this kind of club?" exclaimed Sarah Jane, one of the country's several Miss Indias. "When we hear the music of young India we feel more alive."
Outside, just after midnight, the line is growing longer, with the young Indians bobbing their heads to the beat filtering out.
ends
I bet there'll be many more international media coverage on the Frog!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
The NewYorker and Three Inferences
I like reading New Yorker, and particularly Sasha Frere-Jones’ columns on music. She has a very independent take, and more often than not I find myself nodding in agreement when I read her. In the latest issue, she reviews Amy Winehouse and puts the troubled singer’s music – and her 5 Grammys – in perspective.
I never thought I’ll like Amy Winehouse till I heard her. And not just rehab. In fact, the faddish frequent visits to rehab centres kind of clubs all the singers in the same bracket. I was wrong. Amy and Britney are poles apart, and thank God for that! Amy is power, Britney is puff.
Back to Black, Amy’s latest album that won her the Grammys, has sold over 1.6 million copies and counting. The numbers might have lot to do with her self-destructive trips, the constant media scrutiny and the resultant public voyeurism, her tattoos, her publicity stunts, her contrived dysfunctional behaviours, not necessarily in that order, but you just can’t take even an iota away from the power of that album.
Before I read Sascha’s column in New Yorker, I was trying to pin down the reasons why the tracks sound so good and hypnotic. I was debating between great production values and the sound of her voice in that album. But the most important USP of that album is the selection of the songs (Back to Black). I think that album works miraculously because she has chosen songs and sung them in way that reminds you of the soul era belonging to greats like Ella, Etta, Aretha, etc.
The New Yorker piece drove the point home, in no uncertain terms:
With the producers Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi, she made a very popular album that looks firmly, and directly, backward. “Back to Black” is a deft and convincing pastiche of the girl groups of the sixties, the jazz singers of the forties, and a variety of rhythms from the seventies and the nineties. (The eighties get a pass.) It’s an entertaining, clever album that benefits from a strategy that makes everyone who isn’t Miles Davis look good: it’s only thirty-five minutes long (and closer to thirty without the bonus track). “Back to Black” is a modified sixties soul album, with one perfect single (the ubiquitous “Rehab,” which allows Winehouse to celebrate, make fun of, and justify her own substance abuse), sung and written by a twenty-four-year-old girl from Southgate, London, who says she has the musical taste of “an old Jewish man” and wears her hair in a vertical pile she refers to as “my hive.” (…Winehouse is the Marge Simpson of junkie retro soul.)
The piece continues further..
Yet what reads as musical innovation in 2008 is blue-ribbon revivalism, a high-production-value version of the songbook logic driving current Broadway musicals. The sounds of yesteryear! Sung by today’s young people! (Who, in this case, enjoy ketamine and margaritas.) Winehouse’s music is reassuring to those old enough to remember the original and novel to those too young to know. And her music refers to rappers while simultaneously avoiding actual rapping and sounding just like the music that rappers first sampled decades ago. So many demographics united through the magic of consumption!
Sucinctly put, and this is precisely why this album works on people like us. There are many other reasons that Sascha gives and most of you’ll find yourself nodding in agreement. But that’s not the point of this blog.
There are a few extremely valid inferences that I’ve drawn. Some of them could well be pertinent for the musicians who play at Blue Frog and for Blue Frog itself.
1. There is no substitute for good production values.
Producers of albums are like nagging moms during your teens. You find her totally out of date, old-fashioned with no contemporary taste, dogmatic and so uncool. Till you start realising her contribution and her vision during the latter years. A good producer will do the same for new bands. They might totally, totally piss you off with their control, their persistence, their arrangement, but the end product is what matters. Musicians who clutch on to their creative freedom and expression rather jealously will need to let go some of their creative fiefdom to animals called producers. New talented bands who have played at Blue Frog definitely need to realise this. Something Relevant that played at Blue Frog could do with some kick-ass producer who can shape their melodies quite memorably.
2. Develop a sound that finds a resonance across generations
Music will need to include people of all generations to be able to make a mark; Its not enough to target your music to only 16 year olds or 30 year olds or to those above 45. Like Amy Winehouse, you need to make the older audience comfortable with the sound as well as intrigue the newer audience. The older audience is not always looking for retro nostalgia (though it sure has its merits), they’re perhaps seeking a comfort with a new sound that might have déjà vu-ish reckonings and yet sound fresh. The newer audiences also have respect for older sounds – after all, they have developed their own taste listening to and getting awed by the musical legends past and present – but in order to intrigue them, a band will necessarily need to judiciously use past references to create their own fresh sound. So, while electronica and thumping, repetitive drum beats are alright for parties, your music will engage your audiences only if it has elements that appeal to people of all age groups. That’s when it might stand the test of time. Ragatronics that played at Blue Frog has been able to achieve this to a great extent. They have even used electronica and comp music to create a sound that appealed to people across age brackets.
3. Do not scoff at doing covers
For young bands, doing covers is not something to scoff at. Interpret the covers your own way, but doing covers is a sure shot of getting old and new audiences sit up and take notice of the music you play. Try Sting’s Probably Me. You can interpret this track in a range of genres – from avant garde jazz, to funk to bluesy to rock, and perhaps even try electronica on this (I personally will be rather wary), but you’ll get an audience connect as well as have the opportunity to dazzle them with your brilliance. The music history is replete with examples when covers have become even more famous and popular than the originals. I have now stopped fighting with people who think All Along The Watchtower is a Jimi Hendrix song.
Chances are, you’ll discover your own sound while interpreting the covers of musicians that have survived time. Perhaps Amy found her sound through them. And won 5 Grammys for that!
Those of you who were at the Frog last night (Tuesday, 26th of Feb, 2008) might grasp the power of covers. Susanne D’mello aka Suzie Q mostly sang the covers of all time greats (Earth Wind and Fire, Blues classics, etc.) Her band of musicians were generating their own interpretations and sounds with impeccable skills – she even had someone to rap brilliantly – in the process, the band created yet another definitive sound that had audience screaming for more till the last track. The audience engagement during yesterday’s show was electric: the band on stage and the audience in the pits both fed off each other. The end product: it was one of those rare nights when without any fancy billing, Blue Frog was creaming. Another superb night at the Frog!
I never thought I’ll like Amy Winehouse till I heard her. And not just rehab. In fact, the faddish frequent visits to rehab centres kind of clubs all the singers in the same bracket. I was wrong. Amy and Britney are poles apart, and thank God for that! Amy is power, Britney is puff.
Back to Black, Amy’s latest album that won her the Grammys, has sold over 1.6 million copies and counting. The numbers might have lot to do with her self-destructive trips, the constant media scrutiny and the resultant public voyeurism, her tattoos, her publicity stunts, her contrived dysfunctional behaviours, not necessarily in that order, but you just can’t take even an iota away from the power of that album.
Before I read Sascha’s column in New Yorker, I was trying to pin down the reasons why the tracks sound so good and hypnotic. I was debating between great production values and the sound of her voice in that album. But the most important USP of that album is the selection of the songs (Back to Black). I think that album works miraculously because she has chosen songs and sung them in way that reminds you of the soul era belonging to greats like Ella, Etta, Aretha, etc.
The New Yorker piece drove the point home, in no uncertain terms:
With the producers Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi, she made a very popular album that looks firmly, and directly, backward. “Back to Black” is a deft and convincing pastiche of the girl groups of the sixties, the jazz singers of the forties, and a variety of rhythms from the seventies and the nineties. (The eighties get a pass.) It’s an entertaining, clever album that benefits from a strategy that makes everyone who isn’t Miles Davis look good: it’s only thirty-five minutes long (and closer to thirty without the bonus track). “Back to Black” is a modified sixties soul album, with one perfect single (the ubiquitous “Rehab,” which allows Winehouse to celebrate, make fun of, and justify her own substance abuse), sung and written by a twenty-four-year-old girl from Southgate, London, who says she has the musical taste of “an old Jewish man” and wears her hair in a vertical pile she refers to as “my hive.” (…Winehouse is the Marge Simpson of junkie retro soul.)
The piece continues further..
Yet what reads as musical innovation in 2008 is blue-ribbon revivalism, a high-production-value version of the songbook logic driving current Broadway musicals. The sounds of yesteryear! Sung by today’s young people! (Who, in this case, enjoy ketamine and margaritas.) Winehouse’s music is reassuring to those old enough to remember the original and novel to those too young to know. And her music refers to rappers while simultaneously avoiding actual rapping and sounding just like the music that rappers first sampled decades ago. So many demographics united through the magic of consumption!
Sucinctly put, and this is precisely why this album works on people like us. There are many other reasons that Sascha gives and most of you’ll find yourself nodding in agreement. But that’s not the point of this blog.
There are a few extremely valid inferences that I’ve drawn. Some of them could well be pertinent for the musicians who play at Blue Frog and for Blue Frog itself.
1. There is no substitute for good production values.
Producers of albums are like nagging moms during your teens. You find her totally out of date, old-fashioned with no contemporary taste, dogmatic and so uncool. Till you start realising her contribution and her vision during the latter years. A good producer will do the same for new bands. They might totally, totally piss you off with their control, their persistence, their arrangement, but the end product is what matters. Musicians who clutch on to their creative freedom and expression rather jealously will need to let go some of their creative fiefdom to animals called producers. New talented bands who have played at Blue Frog definitely need to realise this. Something Relevant that played at Blue Frog could do with some kick-ass producer who can shape their melodies quite memorably.
2. Develop a sound that finds a resonance across generations
Music will need to include people of all generations to be able to make a mark; Its not enough to target your music to only 16 year olds or 30 year olds or to those above 45. Like Amy Winehouse, you need to make the older audience comfortable with the sound as well as intrigue the newer audience. The older audience is not always looking for retro nostalgia (though it sure has its merits), they’re perhaps seeking a comfort with a new sound that might have déjà vu-ish reckonings and yet sound fresh. The newer audiences also have respect for older sounds – after all, they have developed their own taste listening to and getting awed by the musical legends past and present – but in order to intrigue them, a band will necessarily need to judiciously use past references to create their own fresh sound. So, while electronica and thumping, repetitive drum beats are alright for parties, your music will engage your audiences only if it has elements that appeal to people of all age groups. That’s when it might stand the test of time. Ragatronics that played at Blue Frog has been able to achieve this to a great extent. They have even used electronica and comp music to create a sound that appealed to people across age brackets.
3. Do not scoff at doing covers
For young bands, doing covers is not something to scoff at. Interpret the covers your own way, but doing covers is a sure shot of getting old and new audiences sit up and take notice of the music you play. Try Sting’s Probably Me. You can interpret this track in a range of genres – from avant garde jazz, to funk to bluesy to rock, and perhaps even try electronica on this (I personally will be rather wary), but you’ll get an audience connect as well as have the opportunity to dazzle them with your brilliance. The music history is replete with examples when covers have become even more famous and popular than the originals. I have now stopped fighting with people who think All Along The Watchtower is a Jimi Hendrix song.
Chances are, you’ll discover your own sound while interpreting the covers of musicians that have survived time. Perhaps Amy found her sound through them. And won 5 Grammys for that!
Those of you who were at the Frog last night (Tuesday, 26th of Feb, 2008) might grasp the power of covers. Susanne D’mello aka Suzie Q mostly sang the covers of all time greats (Earth Wind and Fire, Blues classics, etc.) Her band of musicians were generating their own interpretations and sounds with impeccable skills – she even had someone to rap brilliantly – in the process, the band created yet another definitive sound that had audience screaming for more till the last track. The audience engagement during yesterday’s show was electric: the band on stage and the audience in the pits both fed off each other. The end product: it was one of those rare nights when without any fancy billing, Blue Frog was creaming. Another superb night at the Frog!
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Sunday Nights at Blue Frog
I have said this earlier and will say it again: Sundays are the best nights at Blue Frog. Last Sunday was no exception. In fact, I felt that Sunday’s gig kind of defined Blue Frog’s musical sojourn for me.
Georg Gratzer is a classically trained musician and plays saxophones, bass clarinet, flute and percussion. He has studied jazz saxophone in Austria and plays in a successful folk band there. Thomas Mauerhofer trained in classical guitar, studied jazz guitar at the prestigious Graz University, and plays in rock bands. Raul Sengupta, born in Hannover, Germany, studied various world percussions with international musicians like Luis Conte and Ismail Sané, and tabla with Pandit Shankar Ghosh (no relative of mine).
Together these three talented young men – can be loosely defined as world musicians – created magic on the stage. Bringing elements from all over the musical world to jazz compositions, Georg on his trumpet and Thomas with a huge repertoire of guitar music and styles, roped in Raul’s percussion rhythms to create jazz improvisations with sublime ease.
In a way this truly defines Blue Frog for me. Here’s a stage where some extremely talented musicians jam together, improvise together, discover new chemistry of sounds and use the energy of an applauding and appreciating audience to marvel at the revelatory harmonies and sounds that seem to be magically produced. That’s history in the making. That one new sound, that one new tempo, that one new octave, that one new unison that suddenly revealed itself while playing could well become the inflexion point of a defining musical chapter in later years. And acknowledge it or not, it all happened at Blue Frog.
And when this “jam” showcases a dance performance by Hina Sarojini, a name I was totally unfamiliar with, who brought in classic Indian dance forms ranging from Kathak, kathakali, Bharat Natyam, Odyssey, permuted and combined them with oriental kabuki kinda dance drama and displayed the power of Indian mudras that swayed with each change of scale, the result was mesmerising.
Suddenly, that Sunday gig transformed itself into a performance. A performance that would captivate any audience anywhere in any setting! It was clearly impromptu, but Ms Sarojini unravelled lots of grey areas for me. For once, the intricacies of Indian classic dance forms, the exaggerated eye movements, the sudden fluid change of dance scale (so to speak) made perfect sense when she started narrating the story of a jazz improvisation through her dance. I’m not kiddin’ but Hina added that fictional flesh to an esoteric jazz live act. Her dancing brought out the range of the music being improvised on the stage – from mellowness to sensuousness, from prankster fun to primal joy, it was all there. That to me was a revelation, a moment of bliss.
I been thinking about this for a while now, and discussing with friends, but the audience too plays an important part in getting the best out of acts. Several musicians have told me that they draw energy from the audience during their live acts. A positive energy from the audience enhances the quality, often surprising the musicians itself. An indifferent or negative energy so affects the act. One large, noisy table at Blue Frog ruins the experience for all of us. Its alright when electronica and thumping beats are deafening the senses anyway, but for crying out loud, when music is sublime, shrieking out loud even if four pair of cleavages get entangled is not kosher.
The musicians feel insulted, the audience helpless and frustrated.
I would definitely urge all true music lovers to drop by on Sunday evenings at Blue Frog. The music is great, the ambience mellow, the ladies are elegant, the men engrossed, the band often engages with you, everybody likes to stop and speak and perhaps say hello with just a glance.
Georg Gratzer is a classically trained musician and plays saxophones, bass clarinet, flute and percussion. He has studied jazz saxophone in Austria and plays in a successful folk band there. Thomas Mauerhofer trained in classical guitar, studied jazz guitar at the prestigious Graz University, and plays in rock bands. Raul Sengupta, born in Hannover, Germany, studied various world percussions with international musicians like Luis Conte and Ismail Sané, and tabla with Pandit Shankar Ghosh (no relative of mine).
Together these three talented young men – can be loosely defined as world musicians – created magic on the stage. Bringing elements from all over the musical world to jazz compositions, Georg on his trumpet and Thomas with a huge repertoire of guitar music and styles, roped in Raul’s percussion rhythms to create jazz improvisations with sublime ease.
In a way this truly defines Blue Frog for me. Here’s a stage where some extremely talented musicians jam together, improvise together, discover new chemistry of sounds and use the energy of an applauding and appreciating audience to marvel at the revelatory harmonies and sounds that seem to be magically produced. That’s history in the making. That one new sound, that one new tempo, that one new octave, that one new unison that suddenly revealed itself while playing could well become the inflexion point of a defining musical chapter in later years. And acknowledge it or not, it all happened at Blue Frog.
And when this “jam” showcases a dance performance by Hina Sarojini, a name I was totally unfamiliar with, who brought in classic Indian dance forms ranging from Kathak, kathakali, Bharat Natyam, Odyssey, permuted and combined them with oriental kabuki kinda dance drama and displayed the power of Indian mudras that swayed with each change of scale, the result was mesmerising.
Suddenly, that Sunday gig transformed itself into a performance. A performance that would captivate any audience anywhere in any setting! It was clearly impromptu, but Ms Sarojini unravelled lots of grey areas for me. For once, the intricacies of Indian classic dance forms, the exaggerated eye movements, the sudden fluid change of dance scale (so to speak) made perfect sense when she started narrating the story of a jazz improvisation through her dance. I’m not kiddin’ but Hina added that fictional flesh to an esoteric jazz live act. Her dancing brought out the range of the music being improvised on the stage – from mellowness to sensuousness, from prankster fun to primal joy, it was all there. That to me was a revelation, a moment of bliss.
I been thinking about this for a while now, and discussing with friends, but the audience too plays an important part in getting the best out of acts. Several musicians have told me that they draw energy from the audience during their live acts. A positive energy from the audience enhances the quality, often surprising the musicians itself. An indifferent or negative energy so affects the act. One large, noisy table at Blue Frog ruins the experience for all of us. Its alright when electronica and thumping beats are deafening the senses anyway, but for crying out loud, when music is sublime, shrieking out loud even if four pair of cleavages get entangled is not kosher.
The musicians feel insulted, the audience helpless and frustrated.
I would definitely urge all true music lovers to drop by on Sunday evenings at Blue Frog. The music is great, the ambience mellow, the ladies are elegant, the men engrossed, the band often engages with you, everybody likes to stop and speak and perhaps say hello with just a glance.
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