The ‘One Small Love – Bangalore for Mangalore’ concert on February 14, a red-letter day made infamous by Hallmark cards and various killjoy extremist groups, will bring together musicians Konarak Reddy, Ravi Kulur, Alwyn Fernandes, Gerard Machado, Karan Joseph, Gaurav Vaz and Swarathma along with Thermal And A Quarter. . . . → Read More: One Small Love – drawing the line
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Indie band… I’m not a fan of the phrase myself because I think it is a label for styles of music that you can’t/ don’t want to stick a label on. I mulled over that blog title before I posted it but I kept the word in for a reason — to catch the eye of those who debate over what indie is. I don’t think an indie band need make money at all. But it must make original music even if it appeals to an audience of one. And it does not even have to publish or promote this music. But then again, indie also refers to the endeavour to create music independently and make it available and accessible to an audience whether through performance or distribution. Derivatively, indie also refers to the infrastructure that must exist for indie musicians who want to make a living doing what they love and believe in. Most important, I feel that indie needn’t be seen as some low-on-frills, preachy fringe movement but a sort of cooperative society for independent musicians that helps them feel confident about the worth and validity of their music. Of course, this feeling of self-worth and achievement should also put money in their pockets because they too need to feed their dogs, send their kids to college, and splurge on a vacation at Bora Bora. . . . → Read More: When Indie gets the blues The “fascinating article” (by Arjun S Ravi on MTV Iggy) that Cicatrix speaks of in Sepia Mutiny reads like ‘The Best of RSJ (1992-1999), with Notable Exceptions’. It’s all been documented before with elan and sincerity by Amit Saigal. Today, it’s dated. Because it casually ignores a significant slice of Indian rock history — the independent music scene in Bangalore, which was where the really surprising stuff started to emerge from the mothballed closet in the late 1990s. In businesspeak, this era was when Indian rock music sought to “differentiate” itself. Not through marketing strategy (a la Parikrama et al which still have nothing to offer the discerning music fan) but through inventiveness, performance and startling creative energy. Ergo, I am not sure if Ravi’s omission stems from ignorance (which is unforgivable) or from personal bias (which is charlatan). . . . → Read More: Why MTV can never befriend Indian indie rock  39 comments  bands, bangalore, journalism, music, musicians  alms for shanti, amit saigal, bangalore, bollywood, chakraview, Chennai, colourblind, delhi, Frank Zappa, galeej gurus, India, indian rock music, indie, indie bands, indie music, jupiter cafe, kolkata, krazzy 4, kryptos, laila rouass, MTV, MTV Iggy, Mumbai, myndsnare, plan b, ram sampath, rediff.com, RSJ, sepia mutiny, taaq, Thermal And A Quarter, uday benegal, zebediah plush Just when Bangalore, and other parts of the world that had earned a chance to experience them, had grown immensely fond of this lovable brat pack, Zebediah Plush, like those that marry too young, followed its destiny to disband, but sans acrimony or bad blood. After bringing out one studio album, Afterlaughs (2005), the members of Plush decided it was time to go their separate ways — to university, into careers, and perhaps even to explore oblivion. But their way of going away was not to peter out but to explode, supernova-esque, in one last gasp of glory. . . . → Read More: Remembering Zebediah Plush Just when Bangalore, and other parts of the world that had earned a chance to experience them, had grown immensely fond of this lovable brat pack, Zebediah Plush, like those that marry too young, followed its destiny to disband, but sans acrimony or bad blood. After bringing out one studio album, Afterlaughs (2005), the members of Plush decided it was time to go their separate ways — to university, into careers, and perhaps even to explore oblivion. But their way of going away was not to peter out but to explode, supernova-esque, in one last gasp of glory. . . . → Read More: Remembering Zebediah Plush On the evening of June 27, the wife and I watched Atul Kumar’s The Blue Mug at Ranga Shankara. While we thought it was entertaining on the whole, we wondered what the whole effing point was… Childhood’s End? Or Happy North Indian Mammary Memories? Or just haphazard, disjointed vignettes that entertain in a clunky Theatre of the Absurd way? We’re not sure. We still talk about it. Because we’re not serious, anally retentive theatre critics but regular arty-farty people with – between us – long hair, pierced noses, jobs to do and a kid to bring up. So, while we laughed our arses off at Ranvir Shorey’s excellent portrayal of the lunatic with no memory, and marvelled at Vinay Pathak’s ‘dance of the pervert’ with Sheeba Chadha, what we really saw was a series of cameos, well played but slightly threadbare. And what really got my goat was the stage design. Okay, we know Ranga Shankara has a smallish stage, but dangling giant blackboards from the rafters right in front was not the smartest design – some of us in the corners couldn’t see what was happening on stage. So, like a blind man at the movies, I had to follow Rajat Kapoor with my ears when he chose to linger at the back. But The Blue Mug was worth watching for Rs 200 a head. And thanks to the big names on the billboard, we sat in a packed house where at least two people in the row ahead of us were flatulent. I must tell the nice lady at the cafe not to serve samosas before the play starts. . . . → Read More: What we did not say about The Blue Mug When I was growing up, Whitefield was to Bangalore as Hubli is to Dharwad. Or Secunderabad is to Hyderabad. Or something like that. It wasn’t exactly white, yes, but it had touches of off-white and it was the city’s backwoods where you could go to hear the living language of the Anglo-Indians. Stuff you get to hear these days only from Chamarajpet Charles. I came to know Whitefield better thanks to Gautam Raja, who has been a denizen of this suburb for as long as his memory permits him to remember. And it was charming to see his own little stab at the wayward “development” of Whitefield by the land sharks in Time Out Bengaluru. “When I was a little monkey,” he writes, “I . . . → Read More: How green fled Whitefield and turned it brown Thermal And A Quarter has just released its video ‘One Small Love’ on YouTube. The song was first played live on NDTV’s ‘We The People’ show on the theme ‘Culture Wars’. The song was subsequently used in the credits of the show. The band released the single shortly after. The music video, the band’s first, has been created by Happy along with director Ashvin Naidu (Avakkai Films). . . . → Read More: Melt away the hate with One Small Love It’s curtains for India Coffee House on MG Road. Like all things, this too must pass. Into the history we are prone to forget. Into the homogeneity we are loath to welcome. . . . → Read More: On MG Road, coffee is homeless |
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Copyright © 2012 Bijoy Venugopal - All Rights Reserved |
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Bangalore IT's pink slip is showing
Last month my friend Thirunellai Viswanathan Mahalingam visited Bangalore to research a story on the pink slip phenomenon that has swept through most of this city’s IT industry like a California wildfire – please excuse that offshore simile, but it’s the lightest possible repartee when the US media reports so many jobs have been Bangalored.
That story has now been published in Outlook Business (the June 27 issue), and among the things I liked about it is that it does not hesitate to name companies. Infosys and Wipro – mostly darlings of the get-fat-quickly business and IT media – have been named as themselves, and it can be discerned how their respective media relations folks must have scrambled to assemble a “statement”. . . . → Read More: Bangalore IT's pink slip is showing