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

Friday, February 03, 2012

Mehfil E Moseeqi - Koshur Style

Videos from the night, up on livestream: HERE. About 2+ hours in all.

The Maamu, and the Tulri
Had stunning overnight musical mehfil at our place yesterday. My Maamu has artistic friends. ZOMG FRIENDS LIKE NASEEM UL HAQ 'RAJU' BATT [singer-composer from Doda] and GULAB SAIFI SAHAB [poet from Kishtwar]. Whom he requested to please come on over to Jammu to perform in front of our enthusiastic music-poetry-loving family.



Now, these two gentlemen are really outstanding flagbearers of contemporary Kashmiri culture.
Naseem Ul Haq 'Raju' Batt
Raju has a beautiful, clean, soft voice - very suited to slow ballads [which basically means most all popular Kashmiri songs]. 


Gulab Saifi, poet, works the brooding look 
And Gulab Saifi really impresses with his non-mainstream poetry. He has a unique, #WINNING style of writing, using new words and thoughts in his shaairi. And they have the khanak of spoken Koshur/Kashmiri. 


Both young artists, still not as popular [possibly because they are Pahari, not Valley based?] as some of the other names we hear in Kashmiri music... but their time has come. In music and shaairi circles, these gents are well-known and respected in their fields. The common Kashmiri hasn't heard of them yet. WE MUST CHANGE THIS! Inquilaab!


Oh, you know. Just the family. 
And so. Minimal planning and prepping, headlined by the famous Maamu Malik. It was agreed that all the family [mashaAllah, there are a lot of us when you put together immediate aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, kids] would gather at our place post-dinner on Feb 1 where we'd set up the basics required for best enjoyment of poetry and music. That is: carpets, cushions, blankets and lots of noonchai and kehwa.


Ext. left [black jacket] - Gulab Saifi; ext. right [grey jacket] - Raju
This done, circa 11pm, with local sound guys and accompanying musicians in tow [one tablachi, one percussion board guy], Raju Sahab and Gulab Sahab turned on the brilliance. Maamu added much chutzpah to the night's entertainment. Crowd favourite ka khitaab! 


I decided to try livestreaming the whole performance and what do you know, it worked. Minor glitches here and there but overall, managed to get a live video of the whole Kashmiri music night deal up live. 



Much fun was had with people online from all over, not just Kashmir. We had America, India, Pakistan and I'm not sure where else. Would like to make a special mention of the Twitter gang that put in attendance that night: Shehla, Shahnaz, Rahul, Abhi, Nish, JuneyM, Junaid, Baavri, Mehmal, Yusra, BB,Obaid, Faysal, Sheikh. Nonsense chatting fun. Some trolls of course.


Please click here to view recordings from the Mehfil E Moseeqi at Chez Haji. Three videos lined up under the main screen. The magic started around 11pm and the last song wound up at 0445hrs. Live broadcast went more or less okay. Unfortunately less than half got recorded online. Will scrounge around from various phones and other cameras for missing segments.


Ma [center], flanked by Khaala [r] and Maami
Raju performed a lot of new songs, recently written by Gulab Saifi, and then we had a few classics like that fantastic Jaanbaaz composition: 'Zamaanai Pokh Na Humdum'. A couple of Punjabi and Urdu songs as well.

You will hear me typing, you will see Maamu enthrall the audience and you will hear embarrassing exchanges in between songs that we as a family, collectively, thought were funny then, but now - not so much. If you understand Kashmiri, forgive us our lameness.


Highlights of the night:
Maamu: KYA BAAT HAI! BOHUT ACCHE!
1. MAAMU - Everyone loves him: Raju, Gulab, the family, the online viewers. Too much masti and enjoyment. The life of the mehfil.


Raju/Maamu make a funny at Gulab Sb.
2. Excellent ribbing between the protagonists, i.e. Raju Sb, Gulab Sb and the Maamu. Much laughter and joking to and fro as evidence of their camaraderie.


3. Chai-kehwa-girday!



4. Packed house. And pretty laydiesss, as required by any concert.


Tabalchi Bhai, tak dhin dhin tak
5. Much appreciated tabalchi. Bohut aa'la. We all loved you, O Unknown Soldier.


I mean to work on song videos from the night, with translations and subtitles, and put them up on YouTube some time in the near future. Should be fun. Can do with help on the subbing. Let me know which of you want to do a song or two.


OKBAIII.

Wednesday, November 09, 2011

From Breswana to Bangalore - for Metallica

My blog post in Mint Lounge a couple of days after the Metallica concert.
Basically, it was fantastic, and Shro and I were doing silly shit like this before we headed out for the gig that day:

The complete, unedited, much longer version follows:

It is only fitting that months of planning, excitement, long-distance travels and pre-show jitters came to fruition with a very satisfactory attendance of the Metallica concert followed by temporary deafness in the left ear. Yes. Metallica. I was there.
The magic of attending any live gig lies mostly in the tremendous buildup to it. What goes down at the concert is only the culmination of everything up to that point – scrambling to get initial information, shrieky high-five behaviour with other fanbois and fangirls, huddling with friends to plan attendance and logistics, procuring tickets, travelling to concert city, rendezvous, make-up, costume, emotions, excitement, and… BAM! …final body frisk as one walks into the venue.
Anyway. Here is a full personal account of travels on my noble Metallicause [apologies in advance, this sort of word play will be rampant throughout the piece].
A few days ago, in my village in the mountains of Doda, Jammu and Kashmir, a full day’s travel away from the nearest city, I sheepishly told the parents I had to head down to Bangalore.
‘Why? It’s very far away.’
‘I know. Music concert.’
‘Whose?’
‘Metallica.’ [*awkward silence followed by quick exit stage right*]
Early next morning, I was packed and ready to leave for the city from the village. Downhill walk for a couple of hours, then on horseback for some time till we got to a motorable road, and finally the highway whence I traveled to Jammu at day’s end. Final packing, more shrieky behaviour and expensive last-minute ticket-booking later, I was ready to begin the final leg of the journey. Overnight on a near-empty train to Delhi – it was Diwali - with phosphoric celebrations in the night sky outside through the lands of Jammu, Punjab and finally, the capital. And the last easy bit - plane hop to Bangalore and its naturally-chilled climes. Two full days of travel concluded, I was here.
Preparations for this had begun back in April 2011, when the first vague rumblings of a possible Metallica gig in India were doing the rounds. As soon as a confirmation came in that Metallica [oh, my God, METALLICA!] was playing in India, one knew one would attend somehow, come what may. By the time tickets were up online in July 2011, with dual options of Gurgaon or Bangalore, I had decided on attending the latter gig [fortuitous?].
Forget about everything else; Bangalore has rock concert vintage. We have had the best of the best here over the years [and we have also had the other sort]. When jokes are made about ‘Bangalore’s knowledgeable crowd,’ it’s not all jokes, let me tell you. More than anything else, Bangalore is known for its rock. From school and college level up, you get a good schooling in indigenous and international rock music. The underground rock scene is booming. Teenagers and their coolth infest garages and makeshift studios across the city. High quality Bangalore bands like Thermal and a Quarter, Galeej Gurus, Kryptos, Synaps have made it big across the country. Let us look proudly on Bangalore’s modern concert history, in no particular order: Mr Big, the Scorpions, Elton John, The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Sting, Deep Purple, Uriah Heep, Jethro Tull, Mark Knopfler, Roger Waters, Megadeath, Lamb of God, and IRON MAIDEN for the love of God [phraseology to be noted] – they have all played here. It thusly followed that Metallica would too, and that I would witness the event in my home away from home in ‘Luru. And so, on a hot July afternoon in Jammu, this writer purchased concert tickets for October 30, 2011 at the Palace Grounds, Bangalore.
Cometh the hour, cometh the band. With great trepidation one watched news of the Gurgaon fiasco and Metallica’s cancellation there. Bangalore was on the edge of its seat. We waited. And waited. The gig was still on! Celebrations! By the morning of the 30th, the interwebs resounded with many variations of: ‘In Bangalore, Metallican.’ Ha. Ha ha. Precious.
One knows that good people from all over India [and maybe abroad?] had descended on Bangalore to see the band perform. The most obvious travelling fans were identifiable across the city by their unique appearance – in their grungy tees, dirty jeans, long, greasy hair and a certain look - thronging M G Road, loafing in malls, being sullen in pubs. Complete strangers would glance at one another, exchange a slight nod, or alternatively, show the finger affectionately in a spirit of oneness with Metallica. It was almost spiritual.
The morning of the 30th. Comfortable shoes had been purchased just for the event. Attire selected carefully. Rain predictions in [it would rain], we were prepared. Metallica merchandise and jeans for them as had it, and mostly black for the rest. By noon, we were ready to leave. We had decided we’d watch India’s first F1 race after lunching somewhere and then head to the venue. We zeroed in on The Biere Club, renowned for its, well, beeru, and as for my teetotalling sort, I recommend their fresh lime soda [sweet and salt] also. Heady mixture. The flat screen TVs served our F1-viewing motives and it was a most pleasant interlude. The Biere Club was packed to the rafters with other Metallicans, and smug, knowing looks were being thrown around like it was someone’s coming-out party. It was all quite silly, and quite beautiful.
By midday on the 30th, well before the gates opened at three, an ocean of black T-shirts, jeans and otherwise comfortable attire was slowly making its way across to the Palace Grounds. ‘No drinks at the venue’ was the weird rule for this heavy metal gig, so enterprising concert-goers planned an early start to the day and tanked up at various watering holes across the city before staggering in to Palace Grounds. All the contraband that need be smuggled in *wink*nudge* was arranged for also, with bags and pouches concealed artfully in hair, inner garments and footwear.
At five in the evening we pushed out towards the Palace Grounds. Nodding and grinning at all fellow concert goers in other vehicles headed the same way. In a pre-planned maneuver, we parked the car at a friend’s house, quite a ways from the entry at Gayatri Vihar. Hopped an auto and oh-my-God, crazy traffic as we neared the grounds. What a sight. Thousands of black tee shirts inching their way along roads and in vehicles, and streaming in through the gates. We were borderline manic happy. A crush at the beginning where tickets were being checked, and then the final walk towards the stage grounds.
The high-level security at the entrance has to be mentioned specially, and appreciated, and giggled over. We had the faintest of pat downs, and the lady checking one would ask apologetically, ‘Cigarette toh nahin hai?’ [You’re not carrying in cigarettes, right?’] ‘Maachis?’ [‘Matches?’] All one had to do was shake head in the negative, and they would take our word for it and we’d be politely passed on without so much as a ‘But-wait-let-me-check-properly-anyway’. I suppose the men had it easy as well. Let me tell you, a LOT of stuff got in. *grin*
There we were. After decades of fandom and adoration, we were going to watch Metallica [oh, my God, Metallica!] live, in front of our eyes. Right there. Ah, but we could have peed our collective pants. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was ready, all tens of thousands of us.
And so into the crush of bodies, in the rain, trying to home in on the most suitable location to settle down into for the rest of the concert. A few moves and attempts later we found our sweet spot. By this time the opening acts had kicked in. We walked in on Biffy Clyro, a Scottish rock band, warming the crowd up. Apparently two other acts, Guillotine and Inner Sanctum had gone up before, but we missed that lot. It was past 6 now, lightly raining and everything was most enjoyable, even the minor scuffles and shoving that is natural in huge crowds of very drunk, quite stoned people. Biffy Clyro were tight, impressive and did not get booed off stage. That is saying a lot when you’re opening for Metallica.
Then. A lull. Tense moments in between as organizers asked the crowd near the stage to move back a little. ‘We need you to move back so the security can move in.’ ‘Come on, guys, cooperate.’ ‘Safety first.’ What, after the opening acts they realized this needed to be done? I can tell you we were pretty nervous about things turning fugly again. Obviously it took a while, but the knowledgeable Bangalore crowd worked it out in time, much to the chagrin of many people who were hoping for a second cancellation. Ha to you! Ha!
For almost an hour there was nothing except music playing on the speakers. And amusing incidents with cops chasing down people from the scaffolding and sound towers. We waited.
The Black Album or 'Metallica'
And just past eight, the lights went out, the crowd roared, drums and a familiar riff screamed through the air… AND METALLICA TOOK THE STAGE! Starting their set with Creeping Death and right through the two plus hours they played, IT-WAS-ON. Hetfield, Ulrich, Hammet and Trujillo [My heroes! My heroes!] blazed through a mix of their best songs from all albums – Fuel, Ride the Lightning, Sanitarium, Sad But True, One, Master of Puppets, The Memory Remains, Cyanide, Nothing Else Matters and the performance of the evening – Enter Sandman – pyrotechnics and all. The encore closed with Battery and Seek and Destroy. The older music definitely took it, especially songs from The Black Album, because people of a certain vintage [like me] know that music better. So the kids enjoyed the newer numbers more, but the classics were for everyone. The opening riff of Enter Sandman caused a near-frenzy, and the crowd sang as one. Roaring, head banging, smoking, drinking – it was a true-blue concert. Great sound on the speakers [though we lost audio on one set for a couple of numbers in the beginning – fixed soon] and enough big screen projectors for those who couldn’t see the stage that well. From just past eight till about ten thirty, Metallica gave us heavy. For me, Hetfield’s clear vocals, Ulrich’s crazy drumming and Hammett’s guitars-from-the-gut always win it. The gig of the year wound up with the band thanking us, us thanking them, them throwing souvenirs into the crowd, emotions running high and overall awesomeness.
As the band disappeared, we hung around on the grounds taking it all in. Thousands of happy fans – Bangaloreans and guests of Bangalore - with our once-in-a-lifetime experience. Metallica’s first ever gig in India. With the promise of more as they left. All of us were mud-stained, tired and happy. Feet killing us. Many smiles. The throng moved out slowly. There was the long trudge out to the gates, and then the horror of exiting the car park. By the time we worked our way out it was well past midnight.
As always after a late night, Bangalore headed to the very few restaurant chains it knew would still be open – the most popular being Empire. We headed to the Infantry Road joint and one hears that all the Empires were hit alike. So also those comfortable eats in the heart of Shivajinagar that know how to care for the nocturnals. It was like a spillover from the concert. Hundreds of hungry rock fans laid siege to the restaurant, some eating outside on the street, some seated, some waiting. Everyone was served, the entire black sea of concert goers - it was slightly surreal.
That was a special day. A good day. Completely worth the long pilgrimage here from my mountains. As the deafness in my left ear wanes, let me end the narrative with a suitable smarmy something I read online: ‘If you like Metallica, raise your hand. If you don’t, raise your standards.’ Such Metallicads we be. And well done, Bangalore, you do us proud again and again.


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Kashmiri Muzaks

Confession: Kashmiri songs used to bore me growing up, because I couldn't understand what them mellow singers were singing. Also, the tunes, lyrics and instruments were very, umm, let's say not exactly world-changing. 
Happily my hearing has improved, and my understanding of the language as well. Also have started listening to some fine new talent recently, thanks to an uncle and his musical pals.
There's Naseem Ul Haq of Doda, also known as 'Raju', a young singer with a sweet voice and good compositions. I love that the lyrics are so non-typical. Very Gulzar in a Kashmiri setting. [No, really.]


Mamujaan has just been introduced to Windows MovieMaker, so he's putting up videos of Kashmiri songs- with subtitles. I find subs help.
Here's one of my favourites - 'Azti Gae' / 'Even Today'.




Let me work on a translation for this beautiful song. Will post soon.


In the meanwhile, recommend you subscribe to zamalik5811 on YouTube. He means to upload truckloads of these. Joy!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Tripping on Arabic Pop

That's what I've been doing these past few days.
Primary reason being my unhealthy love for the language that is Arabic, with its depth, poetry, romance, and heavy throatiness.
The other being, it is good music. I don't listen to popular Angrezi music much because that often inspires me to attempt to kill myself, but Arabic pop is fun, fun, fun.
But I am a dilettante fan. Have no real knowledge of real great Arab greats. A cursory Google search lands me the usual suspects: Amr Diab, Nancy Ajram, Elissa, Khaled, Ramsy etc. Amr Diab of course seems to be the ishtaar of the lot, and has been since my school days.
In any case, that's my trip currently. And a few important observations after YouTubing Arabic music videos:
1. These modern vids are classy, shot very nicely.
2. The women are gorgeous.
3. The men are gorgeous.


Here's Nancy Ajram with 'Enta Eih'. English subs for your viewing pleasure.
Enjoy.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

PACHELBEL - CANON IN D MAJOR


Fantastic version of one of my favourite classical pieces of all time I found on YouTube: Pachelbel's Canon. Have copy-pasted entire sidebar information for this video. Lots of interesting points about the playing technique.

Johann Pachelbel's beautiful interweaving of melody & harmony--one of the great works of music!
Soundtrack at
http://tinyurl.com/PachelbelVideo
Performed on original instruments by Voices of Music. Featuring Katherine Kyme, Carla Moore & Cynthia Freivogel, baroque violin; Tanya Tomkins, baroque cello, Hanneke van Proosdij, baroque organ; David Tayler, theorbo.
About the performance: the canon is played using not only the instruments but also the bowing techniques from the time of Pachelbel. As you can see from the video, especially if you look at the high definition version, the string instruments are not only baroque, but they are in baroque setup: this means that the strings, fingerboard, bridge and other parts of the violin appear just as they did in Pachelbel's time. No metal hardware such as chinrests, clamps or fine tuners are used on the violins, allowing the violins to vibrate freely. A good example of baroque bowing can be seen in the extended passage of repeated notes: the musicians play these notes on one bow—the shorter & lighter baroque bow—to created a gliding effect. The players also hold the bow very differently which affects the balance and touch. Both the style and the amount of vibrato are based on baroque treatises which describe the methods for playing, bowing & articulation in the late 17th century. The narrow, shimmering vibrato blends with the baroque organ. The organ used is made entirely of wood, based on German baroque instruments, and the pipes are voiced to provide a smooth accompaniment to the strings, instead of a more soloistic sound. The large bass lute, or theorbo, provides a complement to the organ not only in the texture of the chords but also the long strings which occasionally sound the bass notes an octave lower. The continuo players play supporting chords and voices to the canon, carefully avoiding parallels and doublings of the parts.
Another feature of the video is the subtle differences in not only the sound and color of the instruments, but also the different techniques of the players. All three are playing baroque violins with baroque bows, yet each person has her own distinct sound and bowing style—each bow has a different shape and balance. If you look at paintings of 17th century players you will see that they are all different, because that individuality of sound and technique was highly valued. This allows the players and the listeners to hear and appreciate the "Voices of Music."

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

A R Rahman at the Oscars

So, did you see how the sweet man's 'Mere paas Ma hai' anecdote fell a little flat? Haw haw. So kyoot only.

Umm. I think the Indian film industry and all the big-shots who are now jumping from their roofs in joy, should just shut up and stop feeling proud of themselves. Until Slumdog won its first international award, no one gave a shit about this film let alone rave about it, give it a thumbs up or CLAIM IT AS THEIR OWN!!!! Gaaak.
Well done to Danny Boyle, Rahman, Irfan Khan (whom I SHALL spell in the proper way), Anil Kapoor, Saurabh Shukla and other established stars should be the ones taking the bows for sticking their necks out on a low. And very good for the newbies.
'Nuff said.

PS: I love Kate Winslet.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Please be informed...

... that:

1. I think the winter is already over. Who would've thunk it? Spring in Kashmir, and not even March yet. At least it looks like it's spring time here in Doda. My lawn has started sprouting grass and some buds are rearing their heads. We've had bright sunlight for the past few days. I am now comfortable in only three layers of woollens. Have also cut down night-time bed-rations from four blankets to two.

2. Due to the sudden collapse of AN ENTIRE MOUNTAINSIDE nearby (I kid you not), three major districts: Doda (where I live), Kishtwar and Bhaderwah have been unceremoniously cut off from the rest of Jammu and Kashmir*. This fascinating turn of events took place a couple of weeks ago when the lone highway route that connects us to anywhere (NH-1B) went crashing into the Chenab. Read here.
CAUSE: The destructive and very ugly Baghliar Dam which has been constructed on the Chenab, leading to unnatural rise of water levels for a certain length of this gorgeous river. EFFECT: The water rose to such a level that it seeped into the moutain on either side of the river (one of which sides was host to that hapless victim, the national highway). The more the water seeped in, the more the mountain soil turned loose and eventually just caved in, taking along with it some houses, a few vehicles and some folks.There is a six-kilometre stretch of road that is now unsafe for vehicles near a town called Assar, and folks who want to travel from here to Jammu or Srinagar have to disembark from their vehicles, walk/trek/climb up and down the mountainside for about an hour and a half on foot to get to the other side of this stretch and then board another vehicle and carry on.
As you can imagine, food and other supplies have been hit and the bare minimum is airlifted to the main townships every once in a while. In Doda, the helipad is right outside my house, so we have dust storms and noise all day when the helicopters come in bringing gas, food and other rations. Headache only, ma. See my view of the proceedings.Just the other day there was a serious road accident here and some folks had to be airlifted sud-suddenly. We had ambulances and stretchers and crowds and the whole jamboree unfolding in front of our eyes.

*Please note: Kashmir is pronounced as Kush(as in 'rush)-meer, and not 'Cash'-meer. To pronounce it as the latter only shows how ignorant you are, and also, it does not make you look cool. Okay? Okay.

3. With reference to my previous post and movies, have watched Slumdog, and will soon have Benjamin Button ready for viewing. I do love Cate Blanchett (Galadriel etc.). I shall not state the obvious about a certain Brad Pitt. Am waiting for the Oscars and Hugh Jackman. Really hope it's funny and not silly with awkward silences in place of spontaneous laughter. Also, I don't think Slumdog ought to win 'Best Movie'. Seriously. It's very good but, you know, not heart-wrenchingly great.
Other movies that now go on my wishlist are all the usual suspects:
-Vicky Cristina Barcelona
-Doubt
-The Reader
-Milk
-Frost/Nixon
And..... closer to home:
-DELHI-6 (singing Masakalli, Masakalli with fun sing-along-Sonam-Kapoor-actions)
-Dev D.

4. Plan to show the kids Kill Bill at school. Showed the young boys a few of the good scenes ['The Bride v. The Crazy 88' and 'The Bride v. O-Ren Ishii']. Oh, how they squealed in delight at the blood spurting and the awesome soundtrack. Made me smile warmly to my insides. These kids are creatures after my own heart, I say. *wink*

5. Have been doing a fun exercise with all my classes and they're responding beautifully. I play them a song, and they have to figure out the lyrics line-by-line. I find this really helpful in teaching them figures of speech, slang, -isms, and similes, metaphors, puns and whatnot. (Plus, I make them listen to MY kind of music and my self-interest is satisfied for a while. Moooahahahaha.)

6. Nice pun I came across yesterday, while looking for funny examples for my class: "The cross-eyed teacher had no control over his pupils." Tee hee. Titter titter. So now you know.

Okay. That's that.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Non sequitir

Apropos of nothing, two of my favourite songs in the world, both featuring on the Grey's Anatomy soundtrack. (Which is also my favourite TV show, along with House MD. So now everyone knows I am not a doctor.)
The first one, Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, I heard a couple of years ago at work. Along with the Grey's video. Left me nice and glum.


And then there's this one I picked up just a few days ago. It's an interesting video off YouTube.
This a Joseph Arthur composition, In the Sun, but I love Michael Stipes-Coldplay's version. Here we go (the actual song starts at about 01:30):



Alternate videos: here and here.

*Wiping tears*

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Fireflies in the night

Fireflies Music Festival, Fireflies Ashram, Off Kanakpura Road
6:00pm, Saturday, Feb 22, 2008, through to 7:00am Sunday morning, Feb 23, 2008.
An all-nighter music concert featuring assorted Indian and foreign musicians. Nowhere near the scale of awesomeness that Vasantahabba used to be, but it's something. I tagged along with my Shro and friends and we spent quite a fun night at the open-air jamboree. Musicians performed on a stage under a big, beautiful banyan tree.
We had Kabir's poems in Hindustani folk, we had Oikyotaan, a folksy-Sufi-somesuch band from Bangladesh (thumbs up to Karthick Das Baul), we had mediocre but extremely entertaining qawwals and there was a Mr Glenn Rogers on classical guitar. Special mention for the qawwal troupe. They really got the crowd going. (Although I was laughing in amusement having grown up on the genius of Nusrat Khan saheb, the Sabris, Abida Parveen and the like.) This troupe was something else, but I liked the main man. He had charisma. He hit the high notes alright but really lost it down low. So cute.


Nice nippy night, excellent bisi belle bath and bhajjis as full meals, and barring the many rascal, rowdy type elements that always mar such occasions, 'twas a pleasant night sure. (These abberrents got pissed drunk as soon as they sat their bottoms down, laughed and talked loudly in the middle of perfomances, did the cringe-inducing pelvic-thrust kind of dances while religios songs and qawwalis were being performed and screamed out things like, "Eyyy, refugees!" when the Bangla band came on. These are just a few for instances.)
I enjoyed like anything. It had been a while since I had been to one of these cultural dos. Maybe not top-notch, but definitely a good thing.
And now back to Vasantahabba....
Why, oh why,
Did Protima die?
And leave the suits to say "NO MORE."

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Musically Kinklined

Blog-maestro Kinkmino's little brother stars in Dhamaal, a product of the Pakistani band Overload. He's the young guy with the trimmed beard, chocolate shirt, butter T-shirt and regular jeans-pent. NO THIS IS NOT HIS PIC. That would be so obvious.
Little brother is playing all those dandy hand percussion instruments and pursing his lips and shaking his head in earnest enjoyment. Very nice! *seeeteeees*
(Get on You Tube and rate the video there. GO!)
Which one, you're still asking. No, not the drummer, not the keyboardist, not either of the horses, not the very wonderful Pappu Saeen [see right] on dhol. How very wonderful he looks in this pic.
I'm telling you, it's Hassan on the hand percussions. On rooftop even.
Kinky bhai, it must be said, he's the cutest.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Sam-Goose sings

And how! I am so proud of this item.
Please go here and listen to very vundrefull songs by a Sam-Goose. Sam-Goose is a poet, a student of music, a beautiful belter of songs [or a belter of beautiful songs, if you will], and, quite unrelated to anything, she is also nuts. I mean insane.
Listen to her work, read her blog, spread the word, and send her a lot of money [through me].

Monday, August 06, 2007

Beyond Compare

Sunday, August 5, 2007: Gayatri Vihar, Palace Grouds, Bangalore hosts a live concert- "Beyond Boundaries" - with ghazal meastros Ustad Ghulam Ali and Padmabhushan Jagjit Singh. I was there [wooohooo!] and enjoyed a lovely evening with the two greats. One is obviously of a higher caliber than the other, as Jagjit himself admits, and in this pleasant understanding of what's what, the music flowed.

The show was supposed to kick off at 6 pm, and audience memebers were requested to dress formally. So obviously a huge chunk of Bangaloreans traipsed in well after 1845 hrs, dressed in cargos, dirty jeans, scuffed sneakers, three-fourths and other horrors.
The seating arrangements were godawful- the venue was basically a big shamiana with rows and rows of plastic chairs. For our tickets worth Rs. 600/-, we were hoping to be in a nice enough place to be able to comfortably view the performance but unfortunately we were quite ways behind and managed to NOT see any of the stage. We had to make do with the big-screen projectors. This being a ghazal concert, what was important was that the sound quality be good and thank the Lord, it was. Great audio throughout the show.
(Except when the caterers just outside the shamiana took to collectively rattling their cutlery, or when the rumbling from the nearby Freedom Jam made itself heard. At which point Ghulam Ali paused mid-song to say, "Iss aafat ko guzarne do.")

At 7 pm, Jagjit Singh took the stage and we had a lovely two hours' worth of his most popular numbers. He took us through the best of his repertoire: Mein nashe main hoon, Yeh daulat bhi le lo, Baat niklegi toh phir, Kiskaa chehraa, Kal chaudvin ki raat thi and Sarakti jaaye hai among others.
The audience was lapping it up, singing along with Baritone Jagjit in most places. He threw in a few pleasant variations on some lines but for the most part stuck to the script and the crowd had a fun time feeling full of itself thinking, "We know our ghazals so well."

Jagit Singh wound up around 9 pm and made way for the fabulous Ustad Ghulam Ali. There was a touching moment or two on stage when the dear old men started hugging each other, smiling and pulling one another's cheeks like so many 4-year-old kindergarten girls. Pleasantries done with, Ustadji took the stage.

And then........ *drumroll*

For the next two hours, we sampled the brilliance that is Ustad Ghulam Ali. He dazzled the remaining audience and how! Ghulam Ali took on each new piece as a separate work of love, slowly guiding the audience, explaining the difference between a ghazal and a nazm, giving a short, pleasant preamble to each number, giving due credit to the poets, and, when in the song itself, explaining the Urdu shaaiyiri to the crowd as needed.
The gorgeous rolling deepness of Ustad's voice, his ease with the language, his genuine love for the form were all evident during his performance. The audience were loving the poetry, of a much higher quality than Jagjit's engaging but simple lyrics. Each sher was followed by a resounding cheer after the spilt-second it took them to understand what had just passed. Unlike Jagjit Singh, Ghulam Ali gave us a variety of ghazals not many in the crowd had heard before. It was right up the alley for those of us with a genuine love [if not understanding] of classical music and shaayiri, a guided tour with arguably one of the best ghazal singers in the world. I had goosies for a good part of his performance, along with a silly smile and much contentment at the crowd's pleasure.

Unfortunately, all of the audience was not deserving. As with all big gatherings, there has to be an Embarrassing Group. I had had a nasty sinking feeling at the beginning of the show itself when I saw the very obviously cavalier, non-serious set of people coming in for the show. And the foreboding came true during the performance.
After Jagjit Singh finished his segment, a lot of our overfriendly, noisy, culturally-deficient Bangalorean friends left since the popular hit ghazals they were familiar with were done. Good riddance. Unfortunately a lot of annoying, brash items stayed behind, talking loudly to each other during songs, walking up and down the aisles, taking calls on their cell-phones [good grief] and other indecorous behavour.
If this wasn't bad enough,we had unbelievable audience members somewhere in the very front [and therefore the freebie/ uber-rich ticketholders] repeatedly disturbing Ghulam Ali during his performance. He actually had to stop in the middle of his songs and ask them to stop goading, taking videos, talking/whistling, clapping out of turn etc. Also, as if this was a college band performing cover versions at a cafe somewhere, some freak kept on shouting his farmaaishes to Ghulam Ali. "Oh, God, do you realise who is up on stage, you twit?" The cringe-factor went very high for me, personally. I wanted to tear those people from their places and boot them into the rain outside. What was more infuriating was that none of the organisers stepped in to take preventive action. Terrible. I can only apologise to the maestro for the (mis)behaviour of the hooligans left behind to mess up the evening.

Ustadji took in all this unpleasantness in his wonderful stride ["Yeh toh inke pyaar ki daleel bataati hain"], kept the audience entertained with jokes and anecdotes and wound up his performance with his very famous numbers Hungama hai kyun barpaa, and Chupke chupke raat din. The 11 pm axe was hanging around everyone's necks or he might have carried on for a while more. Unfortunately, things had to come to a close and they did wit a sweet farewell from Ustad saheb.
At around 11pm I made my way out, for the most part a very happy girl, but also, with slightly murderous thoughts directed towards the Embarrassments.
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