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.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Our desi Rockers
Wanted: some serious angst
No one wants to get arrested. Why, even the headbanging rockers are oh-so-politically correct. They hardly even use the Fuck word, let alone simulate the act on stage. We don’t have gigs where rockers dismember life-size replicas of their girlfriends or boyfriends, nor has anyone ever broken a guitar or smashed a drum, or set their hair on fire. Why can’t a gig have someone doing fellatio to the mike or take priapic digs at the politicians. Why hasn’t any one ever painted their buttocks with Kiss my arse, Mushie (Musharraf) and shown the hirsute black rear to the audiences?
Yet if you look at the clothes, the hairstyle, the tattoos of the audiences who flock these rockshows, you would think rebeldom still rocks. I remember one trendy teen at one of the out-of-tune rock concerts tell me without any aggression, “Man, we are the rebels; we rock.” At another, a not-yet-17 rock music fan told me and my friend, “Man its so good to see guys your age at these shows. Its really good. Thank you so much.” I was puzzled and aghast. Decades ago, when we saw oldish people at rock shows, we would scream, “Fuck off. If you can’t speak our lingo, get the fuck outta our lives.”
Music needs rebellion as fish need to swim upstream. Sure, the dimensions of rebellion will change constantly, as they should, but music – particularly rock music – without angst is like marriage without sex. We don’t need no education might be passe in today’s context, but Don’t Make Us Mug For Marks or Roll Over Study-by-Rote surely deserves anthemic status.
Or is it that we have nothing to rebel against. Global warming and clean up the streets are so establishment. Politics is something that doesn’t concern me. I won’t starve to death, so unemployment doesn’t bother me. Indians are global haute property now, so the skin colour discrimination that we still practise in our backyards can be swept under the carpet. We can not ridicule page 3 people as all of us want to be on that page. How come no one is spoofing the Breaking News syndrome on TV channels, or pricking the pomposity and/or double standards of older generations or celebrating the pockets of sunshine from all across the country in this new economic prosperity through rock ballads!
We don’t want Britney Spears kinda breakdown, nor do we want Michael Jackson kinda delusion, but yeah, allow sex, drugs and rock-n-roll to evolve out of its pathetic slogan value. Rock and roll first, in its true sense, sex and drugs will follow, if you’re indeed destined.
Rock-n-roll was a term coined during puritan days when pre-marital sex was a taboo. The contemporary music scene in India needs to punch holes in all the taboos and balloons that society creates. Maybe we need to go back to drugs that make you think, and not just ecstasy that pastes a beatific grin on your face and makes you dance robotically to the same rhythmic loop and a thumping beat. Maybe a few rockers need to get arrested first before we bring “pigs” back into our lexicon. Contemporary India has the content and the idiom, its music requires an attitude not seen before.
No one wants to get arrested. Why, even the headbanging rockers are oh-so-politically correct. They hardly even use the Fuck word, let alone simulate the act on stage. We don’t have gigs where rockers dismember life-size replicas of their girlfriends or boyfriends, nor has anyone ever broken a guitar or smashed a drum, or set their hair on fire. Why can’t a gig have someone doing fellatio to the mike or take priapic digs at the politicians. Why hasn’t any one ever painted their buttocks with Kiss my arse, Mushie (Musharraf) and shown the hirsute black rear to the audiences?
Yet if you look at the clothes, the hairstyle, the tattoos of the audiences who flock these rockshows, you would think rebeldom still rocks. I remember one trendy teen at one of the out-of-tune rock concerts tell me without any aggression, “Man, we are the rebels; we rock.” At another, a not-yet-17 rock music fan told me and my friend, “Man its so good to see guys your age at these shows. Its really good. Thank you so much.” I was puzzled and aghast. Decades ago, when we saw oldish people at rock shows, we would scream, “Fuck off. If you can’t speak our lingo, get the fuck outta our lives.”
Music needs rebellion as fish need to swim upstream. Sure, the dimensions of rebellion will change constantly, as they should, but music – particularly rock music – without angst is like marriage without sex. We don’t need no education might be passe in today’s context, but Don’t Make Us Mug For Marks or Roll Over Study-by-Rote surely deserves anthemic status.
Or is it that we have nothing to rebel against. Global warming and clean up the streets are so establishment. Politics is something that doesn’t concern me. I won’t starve to death, so unemployment doesn’t bother me. Indians are global haute property now, so the skin colour discrimination that we still practise in our backyards can be swept under the carpet. We can not ridicule page 3 people as all of us want to be on that page. How come no one is spoofing the Breaking News syndrome on TV channels, or pricking the pomposity and/or double standards of older generations or celebrating the pockets of sunshine from all across the country in this new economic prosperity through rock ballads!
We don’t want Britney Spears kinda breakdown, nor do we want Michael Jackson kinda delusion, but yeah, allow sex, drugs and rock-n-roll to evolve out of its pathetic slogan value. Rock and roll first, in its true sense, sex and drugs will follow, if you’re indeed destined.
Rock-n-roll was a term coined during puritan days when pre-marital sex was a taboo. The contemporary music scene in India needs to punch holes in all the taboos and balloons that society creates. Maybe we need to go back to drugs that make you think, and not just ecstasy that pastes a beatific grin on your face and makes you dance robotically to the same rhythmic loop and a thumping beat. Maybe a few rockers need to get arrested first before we bring “pigs” back into our lexicon. Contemporary India has the content and the idiom, its music requires an attitude not seen before.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Electronica beats me!
Why I have no love lost for electronica?
Its supposed to have started as underground music; it’s a music that is often frowned upon by the traditionalists; it’s a music that helps you bond and connect with new people; it’s a music that almost compels you to dance – all these parameters are sure recipe for success in my books. That’s precisely how rock-n-roll was perceived too.
Do you know that the very phrase rock-n-roll used to connote conjugal delights amongst couples in days when pre-marital sex was still a taboo. Except for western classical and opera music, most popular music had rebellion as its roots. So any music that has its beginning as underground, any music that makes its audiences experiment with substances or lifestyles, ought to be kosher in my books. That’s how most of us have grown to love music.
Yet, I can’t stand electronica. Why? I’ve tried my best to give it the benefit of doubt that it deserves; I’ve tried my utmost to discover nuances of this music, tease open some deep insights that the music is hinting at. Why, I’ve even attended rave parties and done X and danced through the night with a large beatific grin pasted on my ugly mug throughout, but alas, electronica still fails to spur me.
They define it as dance music, and if you happen to get into details, the kind of sub-genres that exist within electronic dance music, will perhaps exceed all of Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Bach’s repertoire put together. At my last count there were over 150 sub-genres of electronic music with names exuding strong spoors of Sci Fi characters. I can’t claim that I’ve heard all the 21 electronic music genres, each having sub-genres like Illbient and Psybient belonging to Ambient genre, or turntablism, NuNRG, Nitzhonot, Technoid, Suomisaundi, to name just a few, but if you start permuting and naming each scratch, each loop, each repeat, differently, I guess, the sky’s the limit.
At the very least, I can almost imagine the snobbery amongst the electronica fans and the casual oh-so-carelessly-bandied-yet-another-name-of yet-another-sub-genre that should make them electronica-evolved citizens. {Oh, I’m only into illbient and Psybient with a dash of Nitzhonot thrown in for good measure, otherwise I would rather burn the floor than the disc}
Why do we appreciate music? There is a primal reason and an evolved reason. The primal reason must have something to do with the inherent rhythm in nature that our body, mind and soul resonates with. Its nature’s metronome like the howling of the wind, the rustling of leaves, the rhythmic chirping of birds, the metronomic roar of the sea, etc. etc.
The evolved reason, I think is the awe factor. Awe at skilled permutations and combination of notes, harmonies, lyrics, rhythms, beats etc that again resonates with your own evolution of taste and liking. Awe also at those who are skilled and talented enough to create such combinations that just mesmerise you. And of course awe at a phenomenon that you think you can not replicate. More or less these are the reasons with varying degrees why one really loves music.
To me electronica, at best, falls under the first premise. It’s a primal rhythmic beat created electronically that resonates with our inherent sense of rhythm. It is primal. I don’t know if this has ever been experimented, but my guess would be that if you make primates listen to electronica for some time, even they would start swaying to its rhythm. If that is the reason of its popularity and its hold over the masses, give me a break! I mean, come on, surely, we’re far more evolved than the primates. I don’t mean to be a musical snob, but this affinity to our primal sense is boring beyond doubt. Otherwise, we would record the roar of the sea waves, loop it over and over, and listen to it for hours.
At the same time, its equally true that if any music doesn’t follow an innate sense of rhythm or harmony, we wouldn’t like it. In fact the theorists have spent centuries honing the harmonies and rhythms under a guiding time tenure to appeal to our inherent primal sense of rhythm and harmony. That’s what we call melody. My point is that given these constraints, I look for more than quenching a primal rhythm need from music.
I like the way the beats go all berserk only to come together at some point when it suddenly dawns on you the virtuoso skills with voice or instruments were, in fact, all in the same melodic beat all this while. I love when a voice modulates, pitches, here and there and then wows you with a particular rhythm that was seemingly amiss but suddenly made sense and rhythm. I like when brilliant lyrics can manage to be kept under the guidelines without you as a listener ever being aware. I love when an instrument shoots from one range to the other, from one extreme to another only to fall in line with that melody that you would not have thought were possible.
That’s what musical evolution is all about. That’s what separates – or links - a Beethoven from – or with – Bono.
That’s why I still prefer AC/DC to some DJ with alpha-numeric name who can take a timeless riff from BBKing or a sax wail from Coltrane, loop the same over his Mac at different speeds, add some loud pulsating drum thumps and presto, the glittering cleavages start jiggling.
That sure is nice to watch. The music continues to bore me. And thus I walk out.
Will someone please furnish a rational, logical or emotional reasons why they like electronica? I’m all willing to be converted.
Its supposed to have started as underground music; it’s a music that is often frowned upon by the traditionalists; it’s a music that helps you bond and connect with new people; it’s a music that almost compels you to dance – all these parameters are sure recipe for success in my books. That’s precisely how rock-n-roll was perceived too.
Do you know that the very phrase rock-n-roll used to connote conjugal delights amongst couples in days when pre-marital sex was still a taboo. Except for western classical and opera music, most popular music had rebellion as its roots. So any music that has its beginning as underground, any music that makes its audiences experiment with substances or lifestyles, ought to be kosher in my books. That’s how most of us have grown to love music.
Yet, I can’t stand electronica. Why? I’ve tried my best to give it the benefit of doubt that it deserves; I’ve tried my utmost to discover nuances of this music, tease open some deep insights that the music is hinting at. Why, I’ve even attended rave parties and done X and danced through the night with a large beatific grin pasted on my ugly mug throughout, but alas, electronica still fails to spur me.
They define it as dance music, and if you happen to get into details, the kind of sub-genres that exist within electronic dance music, will perhaps exceed all of Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Bach’s repertoire put together. At my last count there were over 150 sub-genres of electronic music with names exuding strong spoors of Sci Fi characters. I can’t claim that I’ve heard all the 21 electronic music genres, each having sub-genres like Illbient and Psybient belonging to Ambient genre, or turntablism, NuNRG, Nitzhonot, Technoid, Suomisaundi, to name just a few, but if you start permuting and naming each scratch, each loop, each repeat, differently, I guess, the sky’s the limit.
At the very least, I can almost imagine the snobbery amongst the electronica fans and the casual oh-so-carelessly-bandied-yet-another-name-of yet-another-sub-genre that should make them electronica-evolved citizens. {Oh, I’m only into illbient and Psybient with a dash of Nitzhonot thrown in for good measure, otherwise I would rather burn the floor than the disc}
Why do we appreciate music? There is a primal reason and an evolved reason. The primal reason must have something to do with the inherent rhythm in nature that our body, mind and soul resonates with. Its nature’s metronome like the howling of the wind, the rustling of leaves, the rhythmic chirping of birds, the metronomic roar of the sea, etc. etc.
The evolved reason, I think is the awe factor. Awe at skilled permutations and combination of notes, harmonies, lyrics, rhythms, beats etc that again resonates with your own evolution of taste and liking. Awe also at those who are skilled and talented enough to create such combinations that just mesmerise you. And of course awe at a phenomenon that you think you can not replicate. More or less these are the reasons with varying degrees why one really loves music.
To me electronica, at best, falls under the first premise. It’s a primal rhythmic beat created electronically that resonates with our inherent sense of rhythm. It is primal. I don’t know if this has ever been experimented, but my guess would be that if you make primates listen to electronica for some time, even they would start swaying to its rhythm. If that is the reason of its popularity and its hold over the masses, give me a break! I mean, come on, surely, we’re far more evolved than the primates. I don’t mean to be a musical snob, but this affinity to our primal sense is boring beyond doubt. Otherwise, we would record the roar of the sea waves, loop it over and over, and listen to it for hours.
At the same time, its equally true that if any music doesn’t follow an innate sense of rhythm or harmony, we wouldn’t like it. In fact the theorists have spent centuries honing the harmonies and rhythms under a guiding time tenure to appeal to our inherent primal sense of rhythm and harmony. That’s what we call melody. My point is that given these constraints, I look for more than quenching a primal rhythm need from music.
I like the way the beats go all berserk only to come together at some point when it suddenly dawns on you the virtuoso skills with voice or instruments were, in fact, all in the same melodic beat all this while. I love when a voice modulates, pitches, here and there and then wows you with a particular rhythm that was seemingly amiss but suddenly made sense and rhythm. I like when brilliant lyrics can manage to be kept under the guidelines without you as a listener ever being aware. I love when an instrument shoots from one range to the other, from one extreme to another only to fall in line with that melody that you would not have thought were possible.
That’s what musical evolution is all about. That’s what separates – or links - a Beethoven from – or with – Bono.
That’s why I still prefer AC/DC to some DJ with alpha-numeric name who can take a timeless riff from BBKing or a sax wail from Coltrane, loop the same over his Mac at different speeds, add some loud pulsating drum thumps and presto, the glittering cleavages start jiggling.
That sure is nice to watch. The music continues to bore me. And thus I walk out.
Will someone please furnish a rational, logical or emotional reasons why they like electronica? I’m all willing to be converted.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
A seminal moment at Blue Frog
Among other seminal moments that Blue Frog will witness in the months to come, Monday’s gig was one such. Perhaps the first one.
It was sudden billing. Zakir Hussain, the tabla wizard, had got in Bela Flek and Earl Levy for his annual homage concert to his dad. (It would make any dad proud, and I hope my dad can feel the same). Sunday afternoon a SMS announces a flash Bela Fleck concert hosted by Zakir Hussain at Blue Frog on its weekly off day early in the evening at 7 PM.
The musicians had agreed to play gratis at Blue Frog for a small audience. The Club decided to make the entry free and posted the item on Facebook. While Zakir was stuck in the traffic, the crowd was piling up at the club. An hour or so later when the show began, the club was packed to its gills surprising all and sundry at the unexpectedly large crowd. For the first time in it short stint, music lovers had to be asked to wait it out. Few left and others were gradually pulled in.
This is from his website:
"Just in case you aren't familiar with Béla Fleck, there are some who say he's the premiere banjo player in the world. Others claim that Béla has virtually reinvented the image and the sound of the banjo through a remarkable performing and recording career that has taken him all over the musical map and on a range of solo projects and collaborations. If you are familiar with Béla, you know that he just loves to play the banjo, and put it into unique settings."
He’s a legend, alright. Winner of several Grammy’s and having played with legends like Chick Correa, Fleck can truly be called a pioneer of world music. As much at home with bluegrass – he played a lovely bluegrass track– he has also delved into classical, Indian, African, European and Latin American.
This is not his first brush with Indian classical. He has played with pandit Vishwa Monhan Bhatt, Zakir Hussain, and several others. He’s seasoned, savvy, sublime and of course, hugely talented. Zakir Hussain of course is a legend and a wizard. His band of musicians, several young exponents who promise an incredible potential, along with Fleck and bassist Meyer – when they warmed up, there were 13 musicians on the stage – created magic for a relentless two hour session. I was actually awed by Louiz Banks the most. In an impromptu set-up, Louiz stood his own ground in a musical range that bordered pure Indian classical to world music, with élan!
It was Zakir’s show and the maestro ran it with clockwork precision. Fleck and the bassist didn’t miss a beat, both of them showing glimpses of their incredible talent. Yesterday we also felt the potential of the acoustics inside the venue and the discerning nuances of its quality.
What the show did, however, was to make me yearn for the Flecktones. I’m sure many of us just got our appetite whetted for a Flecktones show with Bela. Victor Woutten on base, Jeff Coffin on sax, Edgar Meyer on base and that will perhaps be yet another seminal moment for Blue Frog. {Musicians should particularly get hold of The Music Lesson, a book written by Victor Woutten where he explores the mental and the emotional processes a musician goes to come to terms with the sounds of his music and how to constantly improve upon them. It’s a book written in a style where the musician is in conversation with his own alter ego and is almost cathartic and therapeutic for even those of us who are not musicians}
Famed for a non-stop touring schedule, the Flecktones have reached more than 500,000 audience members yearly from 2001 on. Still releasing albums and touring, the Tones have garnered a strong and faithful following among jazz and new acoustic fans. They have shared the stage with Dave Mathews Band, Sting, Bonnie Raitt and the Grateful Dead, among many others.
Although the first Flecktones albums were created live-in-the-studio, the group went on to experiment with overdubs and guest artists on later albums, with contributions from artists as diverse as Chick Corea, Bruce Hornsby, Branford Marsalis, John Medeski, Amy Grant and Dave Matthews. The Flecktones went on tour with Dave Matthews Band in 1996 and 1997, and Fleck is featured on several tracks on DMB's 1998 album "Before these Crowded Streets."
Collaborating with Fleck on "Perpetual Motion" was his long time friend and colleague Edgar Meyer, a bassist whose virtuosity defies labels and also an acclaimed composer. In the wake of that album's release, Fleck & Meyer came up with the idea of a banjo/bass duo, which they developed and refined during a concert tour of the US. Live recordings from that tour are the basis for their latest Sony Classical recording "Music For Two" which also includes a bonus DVD featuring a documentary film by Sascha Paladino (Fleck's brother) that captures the duo's collaboration and crafting of repertoire while on tour. Béla and Edgar also co-wrote and performed a double concerto for banjo, bass and the Nashville Symphony, which debuted in November 2003.
The recipients of Multiple Grammy Awards going back to 1998, Béla Fleck & the Flecktones picked up the Best Contemporary Jazz Performance, Instrumental Grammy in 2000 for "Outbound", a typically wide-ranging project, with guest artists that include guitarist Adrian Belew and singers Jon Anderson and Shawn Colvin, built around Fleck's concept of "the banjo being weird."
Flecks' total Grammy count is 8 Grammys won, and 20 nominations. He has been nominated in more different categories than anyone in Grammy history.
Whether Fleck and the Flecktones perform at Blue Frog in future remains to be seen, but whats clear is that Monday night raised the bar at Blue Frog. The musicians who perform on that stage will know that no less than Zakir Hussain and his troupe along with Bela Fleck and Edgar Meyer hve also performed on that stage. Once the news spreads, I suspect it’ll be easier for Blue Frog to rope in other artsistes of similar stature to come play at Blue Frog.
That’s why I called it a seminal moment in the Blue Frog chapter. The kid’s growing up, and growing up fast!
It was sudden billing. Zakir Hussain, the tabla wizard, had got in Bela Flek and Earl Levy for his annual homage concert to his dad. (It would make any dad proud, and I hope my dad can feel the same). Sunday afternoon a SMS announces a flash Bela Fleck concert hosted by Zakir Hussain at Blue Frog on its weekly off day early in the evening at 7 PM.
The musicians had agreed to play gratis at Blue Frog for a small audience. The Club decided to make the entry free and posted the item on Facebook. While Zakir was stuck in the traffic, the crowd was piling up at the club. An hour or so later when the show began, the club was packed to its gills surprising all and sundry at the unexpectedly large crowd. For the first time in it short stint, music lovers had to be asked to wait it out. Few left and others were gradually pulled in.
This is from his website:
"Just in case you aren't familiar with Béla Fleck, there are some who say he's the premiere banjo player in the world. Others claim that Béla has virtually reinvented the image and the sound of the banjo through a remarkable performing and recording career that has taken him all over the musical map and on a range of solo projects and collaborations. If you are familiar with Béla, you know that he just loves to play the banjo, and put it into unique settings."
He’s a legend, alright. Winner of several Grammy’s and having played with legends like Chick Correa, Fleck can truly be called a pioneer of world music. As much at home with bluegrass – he played a lovely bluegrass track– he has also delved into classical, Indian, African, European and Latin American.
This is not his first brush with Indian classical. He has played with pandit Vishwa Monhan Bhatt, Zakir Hussain, and several others. He’s seasoned, savvy, sublime and of course, hugely talented. Zakir Hussain of course is a legend and a wizard. His band of musicians, several young exponents who promise an incredible potential, along with Fleck and bassist Meyer – when they warmed up, there were 13 musicians on the stage – created magic for a relentless two hour session. I was actually awed by Louiz Banks the most. In an impromptu set-up, Louiz stood his own ground in a musical range that bordered pure Indian classical to world music, with élan!
It was Zakir’s show and the maestro ran it with clockwork precision. Fleck and the bassist didn’t miss a beat, both of them showing glimpses of their incredible talent. Yesterday we also felt the potential of the acoustics inside the venue and the discerning nuances of its quality.
What the show did, however, was to make me yearn for the Flecktones. I’m sure many of us just got our appetite whetted for a Flecktones show with Bela. Victor Woutten on base, Jeff Coffin on sax, Edgar Meyer on base and that will perhaps be yet another seminal moment for Blue Frog. {Musicians should particularly get hold of The Music Lesson, a book written by Victor Woutten where he explores the mental and the emotional processes a musician goes to come to terms with the sounds of his music and how to constantly improve upon them. It’s a book written in a style where the musician is in conversation with his own alter ego and is almost cathartic and therapeutic for even those of us who are not musicians}
Famed for a non-stop touring schedule, the Flecktones have reached more than 500,000 audience members yearly from 2001 on. Still releasing albums and touring, the Tones have garnered a strong and faithful following among jazz and new acoustic fans. They have shared the stage with Dave Mathews Band, Sting, Bonnie Raitt and the Grateful Dead, among many others.
Although the first Flecktones albums were created live-in-the-studio, the group went on to experiment with overdubs and guest artists on later albums, with contributions from artists as diverse as Chick Corea, Bruce Hornsby, Branford Marsalis, John Medeski, Amy Grant and Dave Matthews. The Flecktones went on tour with Dave Matthews Band in 1996 and 1997, and Fleck is featured on several tracks on DMB's 1998 album "Before these Crowded Streets."
Collaborating with Fleck on "Perpetual Motion" was his long time friend and colleague Edgar Meyer, a bassist whose virtuosity defies labels and also an acclaimed composer. In the wake of that album's release, Fleck & Meyer came up with the idea of a banjo/bass duo, which they developed and refined during a concert tour of the US. Live recordings from that tour are the basis for their latest Sony Classical recording "Music For Two" which also includes a bonus DVD featuring a documentary film by Sascha Paladino (Fleck's brother) that captures the duo's collaboration and crafting of repertoire while on tour. Béla and Edgar also co-wrote and performed a double concerto for banjo, bass and the Nashville Symphony, which debuted in November 2003.
The recipients of Multiple Grammy Awards going back to 1998, Béla Fleck & the Flecktones picked up the Best Contemporary Jazz Performance, Instrumental Grammy in 2000 for "Outbound", a typically wide-ranging project, with guest artists that include guitarist Adrian Belew and singers Jon Anderson and Shawn Colvin, built around Fleck's concept of "the banjo being weird."
Flecks' total Grammy count is 8 Grammys won, and 20 nominations. He has been nominated in more different categories than anyone in Grammy history.
Whether Fleck and the Flecktones perform at Blue Frog in future remains to be seen, but whats clear is that Monday night raised the bar at Blue Frog. The musicians who perform on that stage will know that no less than Zakir Hussain and his troupe along with Bela Fleck and Edgar Meyer hve also performed on that stage. Once the news spreads, I suspect it’ll be easier for Blue Frog to rope in other artsistes of similar stature to come play at Blue Frog.
That’s why I called it a seminal moment in the Blue Frog chapter. The kid’s growing up, and growing up fast!
Friday, January 18, 2008
An absolutely sensational surreal Blue Frog story
This is straight out of Hunter S Thomson, rest his soul. As gonzo as it can get! For once this is not apocryphal but it sure is the stuff legends are made of!
Normal night at Blue Frog. Swanky cars being valet parked, couples and groups of all ages streaming in, ordering drinks, waiting for the band to start off and swaying gently to the hip-swivelling, acoustically-perfect recorded music that plays before the set. One young gentleman who walked in on his first Blue Frog night noticed a Yezdi motor-cycle parked within the vicinity.
He notices the same bike parked at exactly the same spot the second time he visits the place. Gathering dust. Lying abandoned. The third time he visits Blue Frog, he again sees the bike rooted in its spot in abandoned glory, dirty and dysfunctional.
For those who don’t know, Yezdi motorcycle was brought to India by an Indian of Iranian descent (fondly known as bawas in Mumbai) way back in the 50s. This bawa rode the bike from its country of origin, Czechoslovakia, to India, negotiated a technological collaboration with the Czech company and started manufacturing the bike in India first under the name of Jawa and later as Yezdi, named after one his sons. Early 80s, the plant was shut down and its not produced anymore.
I don’t know the exact figure but there must be millions of Jawa fans in India. Some of them are obsessed. Like global Harley cults, India too has had its share of Bullet (Enfield bikes) cults, and Yezdi enthusiasts.
Well, our hero of the story – in his 20s – is an obsessive Yezdi maniac. Each day he spotted the orphaned bike, he would drool wistfully. For the rest of the world, that bike was junk. Our young hero saw her as a wanton woman abandoned, ungroomed, destitute and forlorn.
Finally he couldn’t take it any more. So one night, he took her away. Just like that. Picked her up, shook off her dust as best as he could, and rolled her over to his mechanic almost 5 kilometres away, heaving and panting in the middle of the night. The mechanic was well-known to him and he knew his penchant for Yezdis.
It took the mechanic better part of the week to get the bike ship-shape. Cleaned, washed and polished, the bike was over-hauled thoroughly. Single kickstart had that Yezdi purring like a Cheshire cat with cream. Our hero was thrilled.
First he scrutinises her from all angles, wiping an imaginary grease stain here, a dust speck there. He fondles her all over, then sits on her, missionary-like, and kicks the lever to start. (In Yezdis keys don’t actually matter. Any longish rod will go into the keyhole and it can be started). She purrs with all her wanton abandon. He pushes the throttle a wee bit. She roars. A bit more and she was all frothing to leap ahead.
The hero took off. First to the nearest gas station. Filled her up. And then he rode ahead on Mumbai roads to tame her and as they say in bike parlance, “break the bike” (even though it wasn’t a new one).
Meanwhile, that bike belonged to someone working at and for Blue Frog. This person was from out of town, and had ridden into the city to work at Blue Frog. One day when the bike did not start, he just dumped it near the vicinity. He did not know any Yezdi bike mechanics in the city. (A true blue-blooded biker will only get the bike serviced from mechanics who specialise in particular bikes). So each day he would see his bike gathering dust and would think, “I must ask someone about any Yezdi mechanic around. Most patrons at Blue Frog come in cars. Who do I ask. Well, someday I’ll find out…”
Till that night when he did not see his bike at all. He asked the securiuty guards, etc., none of whom had seen the bike being moved. The poor out-of-town chap panicked. He knew his bike had been stolen. He told everyone, his employers etc. about the loss of his abandoned bike and was advised correctly to report the theft to the police. He gave the registration number, colour, make, looks and all other details to the cops. Somewhere deep down he felt he had lost the bike for good and was severely depressed.
Cut to our young hero who had his fill of the thrill on the Yezdi on the roads of Mumbai. When evening came, he decided to return the bike in working condition, tanks still full, to its original place.
Our hero rides his baby to Blue Frog. Takes her right up to the place where she was originally found abandoned. Puts her on the stands, rubs his hands over the chrome and the seat for one last time, fondly, and turns to enter the Blue Frog Club when he sees a posse of five cops surrounding him.
They asked him if he had stolen the bike. He denied. He confessed that he had indeed taken the bike, but only to get her working. He couldn’t bear the sight of a Yezdi lying abandoned. So he took it – without permission (because he didn’t know who the owner was; he genuinely thought someone has abandoned the bike) of course – got it fixed and working, filled the gas and returned the bike to its original place.
For a moment the cops were taken aback. They did not how to react. So they called the person who had reported the theft from Blue Frog. He was thrilled to see his bike and angry at the thief. The thief was then presented to the victim. The cops first explained to him that this is the guy who stole your bike, only to get it repaired and returned to is original place. When the cops came to know that the thief was a bawa, they just laughed it all off to the bawa idiosyncracy and walked away.
The victim just didn’t know how to react. He was thrilled to find his bike, all spruced up and working. Naturally, the two of them became friends. Our hero then introduced the out of town worker to his bike mechanic and the poor Blue Frog executive was thrilled to have his bike “stolen”. As a token of appreciation legend has it that the owner of the bike gave our hero a big chunk of a substance that enhances the musical experience oh-so-more.
That is the point of my envy! If I knew that was the prize, man, even I would have stolen the bike. And that is where a Hunter Thomson story would actually gain momentum. Hunter Thomson would get his cartoonist pal Ralph Steadman as a pillion, load the bike with lovely mesmeric substances, vroom his way inside Blue Frog perhaps and all over the country and perhaps write a book called Fear and Loathing at Blue Frog – In search of a Musical Nirvana!
Ain’t the story surreal? And ain’t it sensational! I might have stretched a few details but it actually happened. Not too long ago. Recently. At Blue Frog.
For me, this incident not only defines a Blue Frog chapter (kind of a lore that ought to be become a part of BF history), it also contextualises the Blue Frog concept where music is an experience that is often enhanced by mad, creative, honest and obsessive eccentricity that flanks the genius from all ends.
That’s Blue Frog for you – during its debut month!
Normal night at Blue Frog. Swanky cars being valet parked, couples and groups of all ages streaming in, ordering drinks, waiting for the band to start off and swaying gently to the hip-swivelling, acoustically-perfect recorded music that plays before the set. One young gentleman who walked in on his first Blue Frog night noticed a Yezdi motor-cycle parked within the vicinity.
He notices the same bike parked at exactly the same spot the second time he visits the place. Gathering dust. Lying abandoned. The third time he visits Blue Frog, he again sees the bike rooted in its spot in abandoned glory, dirty and dysfunctional.
For those who don’t know, Yezdi motorcycle was brought to India by an Indian of Iranian descent (fondly known as bawas in Mumbai) way back in the 50s. This bawa rode the bike from its country of origin, Czechoslovakia, to India, negotiated a technological collaboration with the Czech company and started manufacturing the bike in India first under the name of Jawa and later as Yezdi, named after one his sons. Early 80s, the plant was shut down and its not produced anymore.
I don’t know the exact figure but there must be millions of Jawa fans in India. Some of them are obsessed. Like global Harley cults, India too has had its share of Bullet (Enfield bikes) cults, and Yezdi enthusiasts.
Well, our hero of the story – in his 20s – is an obsessive Yezdi maniac. Each day he spotted the orphaned bike, he would drool wistfully. For the rest of the world, that bike was junk. Our young hero saw her as a wanton woman abandoned, ungroomed, destitute and forlorn.
Finally he couldn’t take it any more. So one night, he took her away. Just like that. Picked her up, shook off her dust as best as he could, and rolled her over to his mechanic almost 5 kilometres away, heaving and panting in the middle of the night. The mechanic was well-known to him and he knew his penchant for Yezdis.
It took the mechanic better part of the week to get the bike ship-shape. Cleaned, washed and polished, the bike was over-hauled thoroughly. Single kickstart had that Yezdi purring like a Cheshire cat with cream. Our hero was thrilled.
First he scrutinises her from all angles, wiping an imaginary grease stain here, a dust speck there. He fondles her all over, then sits on her, missionary-like, and kicks the lever to start. (In Yezdis keys don’t actually matter. Any longish rod will go into the keyhole and it can be started). She purrs with all her wanton abandon. He pushes the throttle a wee bit. She roars. A bit more and she was all frothing to leap ahead.
The hero took off. First to the nearest gas station. Filled her up. And then he rode ahead on Mumbai roads to tame her and as they say in bike parlance, “break the bike” (even though it wasn’t a new one).
Meanwhile, that bike belonged to someone working at and for Blue Frog. This person was from out of town, and had ridden into the city to work at Blue Frog. One day when the bike did not start, he just dumped it near the vicinity. He did not know any Yezdi bike mechanics in the city. (A true blue-blooded biker will only get the bike serviced from mechanics who specialise in particular bikes). So each day he would see his bike gathering dust and would think, “I must ask someone about any Yezdi mechanic around. Most patrons at Blue Frog come in cars. Who do I ask. Well, someday I’ll find out…”
Till that night when he did not see his bike at all. He asked the securiuty guards, etc., none of whom had seen the bike being moved. The poor out-of-town chap panicked. He knew his bike had been stolen. He told everyone, his employers etc. about the loss of his abandoned bike and was advised correctly to report the theft to the police. He gave the registration number, colour, make, looks and all other details to the cops. Somewhere deep down he felt he had lost the bike for good and was severely depressed.
Cut to our young hero who had his fill of the thrill on the Yezdi on the roads of Mumbai. When evening came, he decided to return the bike in working condition, tanks still full, to its original place.
Our hero rides his baby to Blue Frog. Takes her right up to the place where she was originally found abandoned. Puts her on the stands, rubs his hands over the chrome and the seat for one last time, fondly, and turns to enter the Blue Frog Club when he sees a posse of five cops surrounding him.
They asked him if he had stolen the bike. He denied. He confessed that he had indeed taken the bike, but only to get her working. He couldn’t bear the sight of a Yezdi lying abandoned. So he took it – without permission (because he didn’t know who the owner was; he genuinely thought someone has abandoned the bike) of course – got it fixed and working, filled the gas and returned the bike to its original place.
For a moment the cops were taken aback. They did not how to react. So they called the person who had reported the theft from Blue Frog. He was thrilled to see his bike and angry at the thief. The thief was then presented to the victim. The cops first explained to him that this is the guy who stole your bike, only to get it repaired and returned to is original place. When the cops came to know that the thief was a bawa, they just laughed it all off to the bawa idiosyncracy and walked away.
The victim just didn’t know how to react. He was thrilled to find his bike, all spruced up and working. Naturally, the two of them became friends. Our hero then introduced the out of town worker to his bike mechanic and the poor Blue Frog executive was thrilled to have his bike “stolen”. As a token of appreciation legend has it that the owner of the bike gave our hero a big chunk of a substance that enhances the musical experience oh-so-more.
That is the point of my envy! If I knew that was the prize, man, even I would have stolen the bike. And that is where a Hunter Thomson story would actually gain momentum. Hunter Thomson would get his cartoonist pal Ralph Steadman as a pillion, load the bike with lovely mesmeric substances, vroom his way inside Blue Frog perhaps and all over the country and perhaps write a book called Fear and Loathing at Blue Frog – In search of a Musical Nirvana!
Ain’t the story surreal? And ain’t it sensational! I might have stretched a few details but it actually happened. Not too long ago. Recently. At Blue Frog.
For me, this incident not only defines a Blue Frog chapter (kind of a lore that ought to be become a part of BF history), it also contextualises the Blue Frog concept where music is an experience that is often enhanced by mad, creative, honest and obsessive eccentricity that flanks the genius from all ends.
That’s Blue Frog for you – during its debut month!
Friday, January 11, 2008
A Hypnotic Epiphany
Blue Frog is gonna be a month old.
Snatches of conversations near the ever-crowded bar:
“Who wants to listen to the mushy angst of publicity-glutton Bono? Ain’t he the original solo boys band prototype, if ever there was one! Play another O-I’m-so-heartbroken-‘coz-my-girl-can’t-get-her-derriere-in-shape and I’m gonna barf right here…”
“Dude, are you the music fan my mum warned me against. Stuck inside the time warp with the Hendrix blues again… hahaha. Give me the raw uninhibited blood and gore of eminem any day. Man, that’s pure HST gonzo music.”
“Ladies, stop fighting. If I wanted a debate, I would hire a Michael Moore DVD. For a musical spectacle, I would recruit Al Gore. And when I do want some attention, I would show the tattoo where the Sun don’t shine, how would that be to beat Madonna at her own game, eh? For now, can I just raise a toast to Patti Smith prayer, arseholes…”
“In fact let me buy you a drink fellers… Hey, my dear Tom Cruise, juggle your booties and do your number. Shoot them with the Blue Frog Venom dude! And come, lets all savour the musical notes and lyrical octaves on offer here with some blue-blooded alcohol to wash it down with….
“Bravo, absolutely brilliant,” escaped a whisper from the voice at the far end, nursing a cognac over cigar, the curling smoke sinuously twisting around the razor-sharp contours of the lovely apparition: “For that my darling, to be caressed and cajoled and punched and kissed by such gravity-defying slurry of words, I’ll sell my soul to the devil. Alas, that was the first thing I sold.”
“To you, my wondrous friends, I offer myself”, said Blue Frog, the hostess herself:
“Savour me, relish me, tease me, try me, trust me, Seduce me, make love to me… but don’t you ever dare abuse me…”
And when you walk outta that door, leave your mojo out here for me to curl around and bask in its glow till you find your way back to me again…""
And I been finding my way back ever since. In the 27 live performances during the month, (The Frog sleeps on Mondays), Blue Frog has shown the world its mettle. Every single performing band has emphatically expressed the same sentiment: That this is one of the best venues they have ever played anywhere in the world!”
But it was summed up succinctly and authoritatively by Louis Banks on 8th Jan when he thanked the Club for the opportunity to play at Blue Frog as, “this has become a hallowed place for musicians to perform”.
For me its becoming like a hypnotic epiphany. All my life I had dreamed about starting a Blues Bar that will be called Hemingway by the Sea where live and recorded blues music would play. From the windows of my soul, I could see myself running this joint swapping stories with Howling Wolf, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bob Dylan and every artist that I love. In a metronomic replay within my head, these artists and their artistry would be the nine muses who would sleep with me… So on and so forth…
Blue Frog is definitely lots more than a mnemonic concept within my head. The fact that it exists today and is so close to what I had always dreamed about privately (Remember The Secret Lives of Walter Mitty) is what creates this hypnotic epiphany is what pulls me there practically very night.
The question is: Where does Blue Frog go from here?
Snatches of conversations near the ever-crowded bar:
“Who wants to listen to the mushy angst of publicity-glutton Bono? Ain’t he the original solo boys band prototype, if ever there was one! Play another O-I’m-so-heartbroken-‘coz-my-girl-can’t-get-her-derriere-in-shape and I’m gonna barf right here…”
“Dude, are you the music fan my mum warned me against. Stuck inside the time warp with the Hendrix blues again… hahaha. Give me the raw uninhibited blood and gore of eminem any day. Man, that’s pure HST gonzo music.”
“Ladies, stop fighting. If I wanted a debate, I would hire a Michael Moore DVD. For a musical spectacle, I would recruit Al Gore. And when I do want some attention, I would show the tattoo where the Sun don’t shine, how would that be to beat Madonna at her own game, eh? For now, can I just raise a toast to Patti Smith prayer, arseholes…”
“In fact let me buy you a drink fellers… Hey, my dear Tom Cruise, juggle your booties and do your number. Shoot them with the Blue Frog Venom dude! And come, lets all savour the musical notes and lyrical octaves on offer here with some blue-blooded alcohol to wash it down with….
“Bravo, absolutely brilliant,” escaped a whisper from the voice at the far end, nursing a cognac over cigar, the curling smoke sinuously twisting around the razor-sharp contours of the lovely apparition: “For that my darling, to be caressed and cajoled and punched and kissed by such gravity-defying slurry of words, I’ll sell my soul to the devil. Alas, that was the first thing I sold.”
“To you, my wondrous friends, I offer myself”, said Blue Frog, the hostess herself:
“Savour me, relish me, tease me, try me, trust me, Seduce me, make love to me… but don’t you ever dare abuse me…”
And when you walk outta that door, leave your mojo out here for me to curl around and bask in its glow till you find your way back to me again…""
And I been finding my way back ever since. In the 27 live performances during the month, (The Frog sleeps on Mondays), Blue Frog has shown the world its mettle. Every single performing band has emphatically expressed the same sentiment: That this is one of the best venues they have ever played anywhere in the world!”
But it was summed up succinctly and authoritatively by Louis Banks on 8th Jan when he thanked the Club for the opportunity to play at Blue Frog as, “this has become a hallowed place for musicians to perform”.
For me its becoming like a hypnotic epiphany. All my life I had dreamed about starting a Blues Bar that will be called Hemingway by the Sea where live and recorded blues music would play. From the windows of my soul, I could see myself running this joint swapping stories with Howling Wolf, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bob Dylan and every artist that I love. In a metronomic replay within my head, these artists and their artistry would be the nine muses who would sleep with me… So on and so forth…
Blue Frog is definitely lots more than a mnemonic concept within my head. The fact that it exists today and is so close to what I had always dreamed about privately (Remember The Secret Lives of Walter Mitty) is what creates this hypnotic epiphany is what pulls me there practically very night.
The question is: Where does Blue Frog go from here?
Thursday, January 3, 2008
I'm sorry about the assasination, but I find no love lost for Benazir Bhutto
All of you who have been blogging must have gone through this: How long after your debut, do you get a comment? Or an affirmation that your blog has been read by someone other than you.
I opened this page at least 5 times today. And each time I laughed at my own stupidity. How would anyone know that I've started a blog. I haven't told anyone yet. My fear is that if no one reads my blog even after saying so, I would feel worse.
Am I writing for myself or or others. Both I would guess. And I'm not promising that I'll write every day. I know other priorities would get the better of my best intentions. But I'll trudge on, whenever I get the time and inclination.
The latest New Yorker carries a story Bhutto and the Candidates by David Remnick in which a question is asked, "What is the greatest threat to the United States of America: 2.6 kilograms of highly enriched uranium in Tehran or an out-of-control Pakistan?”
For us in India, the query becomes even more pertinent.
I also fail to understand the eulogies that the Indian media is showering on Benazir posthumously. Allow me to quote the New Yorker story, "Bhutto’s autobiography, “Daughter of the East,” published in 1989, is an exercise in mythologizing, portraying her autocratic father as a democrat and a saintly shaheed, or martyr, and Benazir herself as a devoted inheritor who “tried to keep my father near me by sleeping with his shirt under my pillow.” But she was, of course, infinitely more complex than her memoir. She was a self-proclaimed democrat who was also the chairman-for-life of the Pakistan People’s Party. When she was in power, she lent support to the rise of the Taliban in Afghanistan, as part of Pakistan’s strategic struggle with India, and, particularly in her second term, she did little to halt the rise of a nuclear Pakistan. After she fell from power the second time, in 1996, she and her husband, Asif Ali Zardari, who acted as her minister of investment, were accused of taking colossal kickbacks on government contracts. Bhutto always claimed that the charges were politically motivated."
An unstable Pakistan scares the world. It ought to scare India even more so. Her 19 year old son is wet-behind-the-ears and doesn't alleviate my nervousness at all. Its arguable if democrcy will work in Pakistan, but its still the safest bet. They said the same about India as well, 60 years ago. With all the impediments, angst and heartburn, we are still the world's largest democracy, thank you.
But will this cat ever be belled in Pakistan?
I opened this page at least 5 times today. And each time I laughed at my own stupidity. How would anyone know that I've started a blog. I haven't told anyone yet. My fear is that if no one reads my blog even after saying so, I would feel worse.
Am I writing for myself or or others. Both I would guess. And I'm not promising that I'll write every day. I know other priorities would get the better of my best intentions. But I'll trudge on, whenever I get the time and inclination.
The latest New Yorker carries a story Bhutto and the Candidates by David Remnick in which a question is asked, "What is the greatest threat to the United States of America: 2.6 kilograms of highly enriched uranium in Tehran or an out-of-control Pakistan?”
For us in India, the query becomes even more pertinent.
I also fail to understand the eulogies that the Indian media is showering on Benazir posthumously. Allow me to quote the New Yorker story, "Bhutto’s autobiography, “Daughter of the East,” published in 1989, is an exercise in mythologizing, portraying her autocratic father as a democrat and a saintly shaheed, or martyr, and Benazir herself as a devoted inheritor who “tried to keep my father near me by sleeping with his shirt under my pillow.” But she was, of course, infinitely more complex than her memoir. She was a self-proclaimed democrat who was also the chairman-for-life of the Pakistan People’s Party. When she was in power, she lent support to the rise of the Taliban in Afghanistan, as part of Pakistan’s strategic struggle with India, and, particularly in her second term, she did little to halt the rise of a nuclear Pakistan. After she fell from power the second time, in 1996, she and her husband, Asif Ali Zardari, who acted as her minister of investment, were accused of taking colossal kickbacks on government contracts. Bhutto always claimed that the charges were politically motivated."
An unstable Pakistan scares the world. It ought to scare India even more so. Her 19 year old son is wet-behind-the-ears and doesn't alleviate my nervousness at all. Its arguable if democrcy will work in Pakistan, but its still the safest bet. They said the same about India as well, 60 years ago. With all the impediments, angst and heartburn, we are still the world's largest democracy, thank you.
But will this cat ever be belled in Pakistan?
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Blue Frog writes a brand new chapter to musical history in the making...
History proves that some of the most epochal movements in the world have started innocuously, without great fanfare, without a mass hysteria. When Gandhi was forced to get off the train despite having valid ticket, it was initially a minor, innocuous incident. The rest is India’s history of independence. When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat to a white person in Montgomery, Alabama, and was arrested in December 1955, she set off a train of events that generated a momentum the civil rights movement had never before experienced.
Tin Pan Alley, that set the ball rolling for jazz and blues during late 19th century is actually the 28th street between 5th Avenue and Broadway in New York that earned its name to symbolize the cacophony of the many pianos being pounded in publisher's demo rooms. The Gaslight Cafe was a coffee house located in the basement of 116 Macdougal Street, Greenwich Village, New York City that showcased beat poets Allen Ginsberg and Gregory Corso, and later became a folk club. Among those who performed at the Gaslight were Bob Dylan, Luke Faust, Richie Havens, Tom Paxton, Phil Ochs, Eric Anderson, and Dave Van Ronk. Mississippi John Hurt played there. Jimi Hendrix sat in one night at the Gaslight with John Hammond, Jr.
Last weekend, when Alex Alvear from Ecuador, leader and bassist-singer of the New York based Mango Blue, a high-powered, 7-member music ensemble with its infectious and refreshing Afro-Latin and world music sounds announced to the audience at Blue Frog, “We’ve travelled all over the world and played at some of the best clubs in the world. Let me tell you that we have not yet seen or played at a venue like this. The acoustics and the sound of this place are absolutely brilliant, the lay-out of the place is the best we have seen, and the people at the club and Mumbai in general are the best in the world,” I felt the whisperings of a similar epochal moment in modern Mumbai’s history-to-be.
Those of you who have never tried acid in your life will come close to the exhilarating, hallucinatory, out-of-body lysergic trip at Blue Frog. And those who have, are bound to experience a backlash. You’ve got to try out the Blue Frog!
I don’t understand the technology of acoustics, but without doubt this place has been built for music first, second and third. Drinks and dinner take the back seats – literally. Most clubs in Mumbai bring in music to attract patrons who will sample their food and beverages. At Blue Frog, you come for the music and have the option to try out the impeccably presented F&B.
That is the biggest differentiator of the Club.
The exotic cocktails, the sanitised world cuisine, the round plush pods, the giant video-art screens morphing images aesthetically are the frills that add to the experience but music is the central – and peripheral – theme out here. Something that this city and this country has not yet seen. And from what I hear from musicians who have played out here, perhaps the world too needs to witness.
If a well-travelled NY-based band with members from Venezuela, Puerto Rico, Brazil and the US can swear by – in unison – the venue’s integrity to sound, music and musicians, I can almost taste the trend it might set globally when the promised Blue Frog Records, Blue Frog Studios and Blue Frog Production goes full stream in a few months.
The timing seems to be just right.
Music all over the world is undergoing a rapid evolution through technology and globalisation. iPod, iTunes, youtube, internet, kaaza, mp3, etc. changing the very basic tenets of music production and distribution. India and the new breed of urban Indians are at the forefront of this evolutionary process. Why should music from India be only classical Hindustani or Bollywood?
There are entire generations in India who have grown up and are seeped in what can roughly be defined as popular music from all over the world. Not just those Indians who have travelled abroad, but even within the country, there are millions of Indians who think in musical idioms that are not strictly ethnic to Hindustan. Its is not just the popular western music that many Indians have grown on, there are hordes among us who are as influenced and awed by the sounds that have been emanating from Africa, Latin America, Europe across several musical genres. Sure, the fact that we have a rich native sound and musical tradition will only help in establishing our own musical hegemony, so to speak.
If India can represent ITeS of the world, give me one good reason why we can’t create a global music destination in India? We have the talent, the skills, the market, the taste, and of course we have the musical pedigree, don’t we! Add to that the vast potential of a hungry audience combined with the latent talent within our country, and the stage seems perfect for setting off The Next Big Thing in the Global Music Scene.
In order to establish the Blue Frog concept, remember, geography is merely incidental. This concept is as valid in Mumbai, as in NY, London , Paris or Tokyo , or any cosmopolitan city of the world. Blue Frog is not only about studios or music production or club; it is an integrated experience unique in appeal and attraction to audiences all over the world. Blue Frog Label will, hopefully promote artists on merit. A band based in Meghalaya has as much chance and opportunity to display their talent and cut a disc as a band from Burkina Faso. It sure portends to have an attitude this country has not yet seen – from food to flamenco, from Daiquiri to Dylan, from bebop to hip hop!
Just for a nostalgic perspective, the Village in NY gave birth to the Bohemian lifestyle of the 50s-60s. Jazz is said to begin with the opening of Storyville, New Orleans’ famous red-light district. Its roots, however, run further back, and draw sustenance from many different sources. The establishments in Storyville were not just centres for vice, they were a form of nightclub. Many of these brothels served liquor, and larger establishments would have a musician or a band. It was this opening-up of the job market that brought all sorts of musicians together, especially joining ragtime pianists with musicians from a more folksy blues background. Here musicians could hear and learn from each other and play together, merging their styles into a new thing: New Orleans jazz. The opening of Storyville is hailed as the most influential event in the invention of jazz. In the mingling of the many ethnic and musical strains in New Orleans, which occurred almost automatically in the laissez-faire climate of Storyville, New Orleans Style was born.
Maybe Mumbai still does not have that laissez faire climate yet, but who knows, the musicians and the audience from Mumbai, India and the world might well define and shape the scope of the Blue Frog Concept in the years to come.
I, for one, shall remain eternally hopeful.
Tin Pan Alley, that set the ball rolling for jazz and blues during late 19th century is actually the 28th street between 5th Avenue and Broadway in New York that earned its name to symbolize the cacophony of the many pianos being pounded in publisher's demo rooms. The Gaslight Cafe was a coffee house located in the basement of 116 Macdougal Street, Greenwich Village, New York City that showcased beat poets Allen Ginsberg and Gregory Corso, and later became a folk club. Among those who performed at the Gaslight were Bob Dylan, Luke Faust, Richie Havens, Tom Paxton, Phil Ochs, Eric Anderson, and Dave Van Ronk. Mississippi John Hurt played there. Jimi Hendrix sat in one night at the Gaslight with John Hammond, Jr.
Last weekend, when Alex Alvear from Ecuador, leader and bassist-singer of the New York based Mango Blue, a high-powered, 7-member music ensemble with its infectious and refreshing Afro-Latin and world music sounds announced to the audience at Blue Frog, “We’ve travelled all over the world and played at some of the best clubs in the world. Let me tell you that we have not yet seen or played at a venue like this. The acoustics and the sound of this place are absolutely brilliant, the lay-out of the place is the best we have seen, and the people at the club and Mumbai in general are the best in the world,” I felt the whisperings of a similar epochal moment in modern Mumbai’s history-to-be.
Those of you who have never tried acid in your life will come close to the exhilarating, hallucinatory, out-of-body lysergic trip at Blue Frog. And those who have, are bound to experience a backlash. You’ve got to try out the Blue Frog!
I don’t understand the technology of acoustics, but without doubt this place has been built for music first, second and third. Drinks and dinner take the back seats – literally. Most clubs in Mumbai bring in music to attract patrons who will sample their food and beverages. At Blue Frog, you come for the music and have the option to try out the impeccably presented F&B.
That is the biggest differentiator of the Club.
The exotic cocktails, the sanitised world cuisine, the round plush pods, the giant video-art screens morphing images aesthetically are the frills that add to the experience but music is the central – and peripheral – theme out here. Something that this city and this country has not yet seen. And from what I hear from musicians who have played out here, perhaps the world too needs to witness.
If a well-travelled NY-based band with members from Venezuela, Puerto Rico, Brazil and the US can swear by – in unison – the venue’s integrity to sound, music and musicians, I can almost taste the trend it might set globally when the promised Blue Frog Records, Blue Frog Studios and Blue Frog Production goes full stream in a few months.
The timing seems to be just right.
Music all over the world is undergoing a rapid evolution through technology and globalisation. iPod, iTunes, youtube, internet, kaaza, mp3, etc. changing the very basic tenets of music production and distribution. India and the new breed of urban Indians are at the forefront of this evolutionary process. Why should music from India be only classical Hindustani or Bollywood?
There are entire generations in India who have grown up and are seeped in what can roughly be defined as popular music from all over the world. Not just those Indians who have travelled abroad, but even within the country, there are millions of Indians who think in musical idioms that are not strictly ethnic to Hindustan. Its is not just the popular western music that many Indians have grown on, there are hordes among us who are as influenced and awed by the sounds that have been emanating from Africa, Latin America, Europe across several musical genres. Sure, the fact that we have a rich native sound and musical tradition will only help in establishing our own musical hegemony, so to speak.
If India can represent ITeS of the world, give me one good reason why we can’t create a global music destination in India? We have the talent, the skills, the market, the taste, and of course we have the musical pedigree, don’t we! Add to that the vast potential of a hungry audience combined with the latent talent within our country, and the stage seems perfect for setting off The Next Big Thing in the Global Music Scene.
In order to establish the Blue Frog concept, remember, geography is merely incidental. This concept is as valid in Mumbai, as in NY, London , Paris or Tokyo , or any cosmopolitan city of the world. Blue Frog is not only about studios or music production or club; it is an integrated experience unique in appeal and attraction to audiences all over the world. Blue Frog Label will, hopefully promote artists on merit. A band based in Meghalaya has as much chance and opportunity to display their talent and cut a disc as a band from Burkina Faso. It sure portends to have an attitude this country has not yet seen – from food to flamenco, from Daiquiri to Dylan, from bebop to hip hop!
Just for a nostalgic perspective, the Village in NY gave birth to the Bohemian lifestyle of the 50s-60s. Jazz is said to begin with the opening of Storyville, New Orleans’ famous red-light district. Its roots, however, run further back, and draw sustenance from many different sources. The establishments in Storyville were not just centres for vice, they were a form of nightclub. Many of these brothels served liquor, and larger establishments would have a musician or a band. It was this opening-up of the job market that brought all sorts of musicians together, especially joining ragtime pianists with musicians from a more folksy blues background. Here musicians could hear and learn from each other and play together, merging their styles into a new thing: New Orleans jazz. The opening of Storyville is hailed as the most influential event in the invention of jazz. In the mingling of the many ethnic and musical strains in New Orleans, which occurred almost automatically in the laissez-faire climate of Storyville, New Orleans Style was born.
Maybe Mumbai still does not have that laissez faire climate yet, but who knows, the musicians and the audience from Mumbai, India and the world might well define and shape the scope of the Blue Frog Concept in the years to come.
I, for one, shall remain eternally hopeful.
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