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MUSIC MATTERS
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As a math teacher, I have come across parents who have their children’s futures worked out to the finest detail. The mother of one of the kids I teach told me on their first visit to my house that in 2010 her child would sit for his first All India board exams. He would have to score 90 plus in the sciences, because after the next all India exams in 2012 in which he would also have to hit a similar score, he would sit for the Joint Entrance examinations, join one of the branches of the Indian Institute of Technology and then become an electrical engineer. The kid was only eleven years old. |
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What was interesting, though, was that he was perfectly in tune with what mum wanted. They shared the same dream, and as I write, he is excelling at math and science and everything seems to be on course. It made me think that the world must be divided into two kinds of people: those who have a clear idea of what they want to do with their lives, and those who don’t. I belong squarely to the second category. Nothing I do or have done was planned or premeditated. It has all happened like some unpredictable sequence from a stream of consciousness novel. Like music, for example. One day you are hanging about with friends, listening to music and air drumming like dozens of other kids, and the next thing you know is that these same chaps you call friends tell you, “Our band’s been given a chance to play in Trincas. We don’t have a drummer. You’ve got to do it. The audition’s next week.” The gap between the first rehearsal when I held a real pair of sticks and sat at a real kit, and the day of the audition, was exactly eight days. I hung on for dear life, alternating between the only two rhythms I knew. But we passed the audition. And I was hooked for life. Forty years on and music is still very much a part of the scheme of things. Never made it a full time profession, did it only for the love of it, and indeed it is my first love. Travel, life experiences of a myriad kinds, enduring relationships, tastes of different culures and uncountable other riches have come from it. And in the early 80s, some new directions opened up – opportunities to play with two people who were senior pros on Park Street when we were cutting our teeth. Carlton Kitto and Usha (‘Didi’) Uthup. When Park Street’s entertainment scenario went into decline towards the late 70s, most of the musicians left Calcutta. Fortunately, stalwarts Usha Uthup and Carlton Kitto stayed. Kitto became band leader at Blue Fox, with my close friend Lew Hilt as his bassist. Though I had not played on Park Street since 1973, through the 70s I had fruitful and rewarding times with two rock bands – Great Bear (1969 – 72) and High (1974 onwards). Lew was doubling as the bassist of High as well as doing nights at The Fox. There was no clash of interests, as High only did about 15 gigs a year – concerts and campus gigs, with an emphasis on original compositions. One fine day in 1982, Lew came up to me and said that Kitto was interested in doing a serious bebop jazz concert and wanted a drummer who could relate strongly to swing, bossa nova and Afro-Cuban rhythms. Lew knew that I practised these on my own. He said that he had suggested my name. Would I like to try out? |
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“But they only know me as a rock drummer,” I said. “Would you or wouldn’t you?” he persisted. “I’d give an arm and a leg.” |
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It was a fiery trial. I was given an audio cassette to listen to, and told to pick up three or four songs. Two of them were Pat Martino compositions – ‘Special Door’ and ‘Great Stream’ – the most intricately phrased and difficult arrangements I had ever handled, with solos and improvisations in very fast up-tempo swing. I did my best and went for my first rehearsal, one morning, at The Fox. Of course there were glitches, and “Let’s try that again” was said several times. But I passed muster. And so began an association with a musician for whom my regard and respect has no measure. Carl is a walking encyclopaedia of bebop jazz. He initiated me. He understood what I had to come through. Though never a drummer, he knew what he wanted and he always got the message across. What a world he opened up for me. Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Dizzie Gillespie, Duke Ellington, Horace Silver, McCoy Tyner…He knew it all backwards. He could play any piece in any key, knew the nuts and bolts of every composition and all the different versions of it that existed. |
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It was an honour to become, over a period of time, Carl’s drummer of choice for this music and it added a new dimension to my playing. The high point of our work together was performing at the Mumbai Jazz Yatra in 2002 as the Kitto-Hilt Organisation, with Carl, Lew Hilt, Soumitra Das (piano), Sonia Saigal on vocals and myself on drums. Rewinding the clock once again, when word got around that I was playing jazz (mainstream – no fusion or avant garde), I was given the opportunity in the mid 80s to play with the one and only Usha Uthup, who has become an institution in Calcutta. Since the early days of Trincas, Usha (Didi for everyone nowadays) branched out and began singing in several different languages – folk and pop – and became popular with Indian audiences all over the world. But she always had a special place in her heart for jazz and this was another rich experience for me – to be a part of the most professional and organized set up we have here. I have played several concerts with Didi, on most occasions with Lew on bass and Carl on guitar, and will treasure the times we shared even after nearly 50 years in the business. Didi’s energy, motivation and commitment are incredible. The concerts we did were all in Calcutta, mostly at small, intimate venues where every seat was taken. From small ensembles to big band setups with a five-piece horn section, Didi was always in control, her panache and poise a natural part of her personality. We did slow ballads (‘All Too Soon’, ‘Someone’), bossa novas (‘Masquerade’, ‘One Note Samba’), popular standards in swing (‘All of Me’, ‘Love Me or Leave Me’) and many more, including a memorable tribute to Frank Sinatra at the American Center. As I write this, it has been quite some time since I played with either Carl or Didi, and that has to be because of the decision Lew took to settle down in Delhi. The community of jazz players has really dwindled and the absence of one man can make a difference. However, there is a new generation of enthusiastic musicians coming up, and some of them are turning to this music. One sincerely hopes there will be more of it. Meanwhile, I salute the two people who opened new avenues for me. Interestingly, both are one hundred percent self-taught, and I have always believed that the cutting-edge in individuality that a performer needs has a lot to do with this. Though I do not wish to generalize, people from formal repertories often seem to lose out on this. |
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