How YouTube Changed My Life..

I'll be back with the article soon...

You won't find moments in a box
And someone else will set your clocks
I took a moment from my day

Gear, gear!

I love buying new gear! Now that I finally have the (hard-earned) money, I can upgrade my baby a little. Here's what I'm gonna get:

(i) Several pairs of Pro-Mark 5A sticks
(ii) A spanking new Evans G2 coated resonant head with a vent for my kick drum
(iii) A pair of brand new A Custom hats


PS: It feels really great when I can buy gear with the money I earnt from playing music!!!

Boredom, death, television, sex

That, in short, sums up my activities over the last few weeks. Death, of course, is an allusion to a creative rot that had set in pretty much from the farmhouse shows at Barasat. Scanty rains are'nt a help, either, to lift sombre moods. Quite like sex in my life over the past month or so.
I was also brought down with quite a serious bout of viral fever a few weeks back, which leaves me weak and drowsy.
As for television.....it's fun working with a guy like Meer, a total professional and a total clown all at once.

Rain

Seems monsoon has arrived in this part of the country for well and good. Thank God.
There are summer persons, and there are winter persons. I always heard my friends talk about how much they love summer (especially my cousins living in the UK), or how absolutely fascinating they find the winter season to be. Very few talk about the monoons, let alone love its arrival.
I guess I am a monoon person at heart. I can live with the rains all year long. I love a muddy, slushy soccer game; I love tasting the first drops and how they smell on a parched ground; I love the aftertaste of that smell when the shower stops and I love watching the drops fall against a streetlight at night.
I love walking through these city streets in the rain; I love watching this city take on a different beauty on a pouring night.

Concerts and more

After a rocking Princeton show, Ganga Groove had a kinda crazy gig at Tapan Desai's farmhouse on Saturday, May 27, at a 4-band concert organised by Congo Square. Booze being free, we saw quite a lot of mayhem — off and onstage.
The sound inside was really crappy — the monitors to my left and right were showpieces, imagine that! — , but we managed to manage everyone in the house get up and shake it with our set. I played one of the best Sex Machines ever. We introduced two of our originals at the show: a cool pop-punky tune that Doi wrote, and the very drive-by Picture of a Kiss penned by Yours Truly. Suman, our kid piano-player, had two large pegs of rum prior to the show (obviously inspired by Doi's 6!) and does it show in the video. I personally have never witnessed Doi go so berserk on stage, and it was an experience by itself. Though Pupu's still a little irritated about the whole deal, I guess it's gonna be okay. Now, for the weekly gig again.

U-Turn

It's funny how life changes and takes its U-turns without a second's warning. Only, this time, it wasn't fun.
My Choto-kaka passed away this Sunday morning. He was the youngest of siblings (my father being the eldest), and was only 45. He has a son who's 10, and is autistic: he can't speak or hear anything, nor comprehend his father's death.
Choto-kaka never had a medical history of heart disease. The attack took him away in seven minutes flat. He was only absent from office for the last two days because he had a mild viral fever. I spoke to him the day before, and wanted to ask him to come with me to play TT at Princeton, where they have Stiga boards. I never can now. He was ranked 2 in the state back in his college days. He taught me how to play TT, and was instrumental in getting me familiarised around the Maidan and the YMCA.
Being the eldest nephew, I had to carry out his funeral rites — anoint him with ghee, do the puja, and then, the mukhagni. It felt like shit.
My Choto-kaka was one of the most tolerant, loving, honest, genuine human beings that I have ever come across in my life. Looking at his room now, I just have one question: why HIM?

I need some new music

Here's the catch: I know what I wanna hear, but I don't seem to be able to GET it! In any manner, whatsoever.
Like I wanna hear the new Galactic record.
Jing Chi, with Jimmy Haslip, Vinnie Colaiuta and Robben Ford
Ozomatli
Afro-Celt Sound System, Volume V
Idris Muhammad's solo work
The new Nickelback record (with Save Me and So Far Away on it, you know?)
Aquarium Rescue Unit
The last Phish show

More networking?

Got my Orkut invite, thanks to Bhai. Can't find any Presidencians from my batch, though....
In a week, I am on over 12 communities, though I am mostly on the drumming forums.
Hmmmm..Pupu's shoots are getting a little too bugging; he couldn't land up at practice for the past three days. And we have a gig on the 5th (which means we'll miss Pink Noise at Someplace Else, a pity, since I wanted to catch Gyaan's son in action).

PS: We are living the rock 'n roll life: we even go for a dip in the pool after an hour at the gym, which is post-practice. Hee hee!

Miracles happen. Trust me.

Life

I am running out of money, and all around me, there's pressure to get back to a job. Just when we got a steady gig, and were thinking of possible gigs outside the city.
If I am (un)lucky enough to get an offer, it would mean we can't take those gigs.
And I don't want that to happen.
What am I gonna do?

What would you say?

Around four months back, I was crying hoarse on this blog. About a bunch of things: I didn't have a band, I was tired of doing absolutely nothing, I waited and waited for my drums to arrive from Michigan, and my brother just went on shuttling to Delhi, Bombay and the North-East, playing gig after gig.
March 24 changed all that. Ganga Groove played its first gig at Princeton Club: and I was relieved.
Considering that we've been playing for the last three months, you could say that the first concert rocked hard, and despite being nervous, everyone played well. Before we knew, we finished a two-hour set and were listening to shouted-out requests. I was watching the video (courtesy Madhuparna, thanks) and we sounded tight alright. Despite sound glitches, both the kids played with a professional, mature attitude. We know we have to go a long way, but hey, we just started out on that road.

Long time...

Long time since I last blogged. What have I done in the meantime...let me see...started practice with all the precautions to be, met the councillor and the local OC, kinda made it foolproof; watched Herbert, and loved it; played Holi, went and met Bau's dad and mom that day, fucker wasn't home (as usual; his wife opened the door with the kid on her lap); started freelance work for The Telegraph (just music reviews); went ahead and finished the demo; and, oh, got a gig at the Princeton Club.
I also watched RHCP's September 2003 gig at Slane Castle, and Prince's Millennium New Year 'Rave Unto 2000' concert. Ordered new cases for my drums.
As far as reading goes, I finished My Years with Apu. It's one of the most inspiring books I've read in recent times.
And I have no plans of joining a job, no matter how paranoid my dad, supposed well-wishers and journalist friends feel about that.

When I born, I Black,
When I grow up, I Black,
When I go in Sun, I Black,
When I scared, I Black,
When I sick, I Black,
And when I die, I still black.

And you White fella?
When you born, you Pink,
When you grow up, you White,
When you go in Sun, you Red,
When you cold, you Blue,
When you scared, you Yellow,
When you sick, you Green,
And when you die, you Gray.
Who you calling 'Colored'?

Among things..

"Do you really wanna go?"
"I donno, man; I'm having a bad day since the last class; everything just feels fucked. I remember a similar state of mind when everyone was gushing 'Satriani's playing in town', and I just didn't have the enthusiasm to hit the show."
"I know; happens to me too."
"Only if our bass player would get a little serious about his music, y'know; not jump all over the place with everything he does in life. Your character, or personality, is a big stamp on your playing."
"I know. It amazes me that I can approach my instrument with a much calmer state of mind than I previously could, and play with a lot of reserve. The finesse part of it is showing."
"Poise."
"Yeah."

Hmmmmm....

I thought I'd have a lot to write on before sitting down to face this damn screen. Seems I don't: hmmmm...
Watching Mandu Sarara perform was a real delight; they're one brilliant bunch of musicians. In fact, I think they were the best gig at the Congo Square Jazz Fest this year. Kenny Garett wowed the crowd, but know what? We fell in love with the Brazilians, yet again. They played one of the best versions of Brazil and Girl From Ipanema that I, for one, have heard.
I also loved the Eric Lohrer quartet; they threw in a surprise playing Cissy Strut, stringing it up with a Dave Holland tune. I loved the drummer.
And then there was Kenny Garett. I donno whether he was angry because his band wasn't introduced properly, but he just said 'Hi' and his quartet launched into really loud hard bop! No time to sit down, man! Which is all very good, and me and Doi watched the drummer up close and started laughing, because he was doing stuff that was straight out of a Dennis Chambers video: cross-sticking, lightning-ass one-handed fills, one-handed 32-nd-note hat patterns, blinding rack-floor-bass flams etc etc, and VERY loud at that. Clearly, he loved to show off his flash. Which is all very good: just not always to my liking.

Maatir gaan

Oh well, I'm back to blogging, as the previous entry shows, after 14 fucking days. Feels good to write shit down, though.
It kinda seems surreal: I went to the biggest Baul-fakiri mela and came back without a whiff of pot! But hey, that's the way, ah-huh, ah-huh, /We like it.
Lots of Bangla band wannabes, though; kills the spirit of the place. My friend almost had a fistfight with a guy who was recording gigs on a dictaphone. "Are you recording this to return to Kolkata and quietly share a moment of spiritual physicality with your wife?" was, loosely translated, his exact question. The dude was visibly fuming.
We had lovely dinner, by the way: one of the best musur daal preparations I've ever had.
We heard two excellent renditions of Barir Pashey Aarshi Nagar, by Shraddhananda, a 16-year old kid with killer dotara technique and an amazing voice; and a version of Hridi Majhare by Sarajit Khyapa that blew me away.
As my HP would have it, we came back to Kolkata AND managed to procure guest passes for the Congo Square Jazz Fest. More on that later.

Mela kotha

We are going to Kenduli!!! We are going to Kenduli!!!! After seven years at that!