Disgrace
One of the disadvantages of being in India is that you can enjoy the independent music scene only vicariously. Not for us the luxury of watching an Andrew Bird concert. Instead, we’re left with no choice but to listen to the umpteen electronica acts that take up most of the dates in gig calendar. Not that I have a problem with that; electronica is thriving in India, but sometimes you can’t help wish The Raconteurs were playing their next gig here. Or that Radiohead would at least express a wish to tour India, and be touched by the fan following they certainly seem to be unaware of. Or how about The Flaming Lips? I’d give an arm and a leg to be in a Lips concert. I’d even kiss Wayne Coyne’s feet Timberlake-style, or even the entire cast of Arcade Fire, (Win Butler included, although he smashed up a guitar in a bout of angst-induced juvenile outburst after performing Intervention live), even though none of them are worth $125 million.
But instead, I have to undergo the humiliation of having to plead with the manager of a popular nightclub to let me in to watch a multi-sensory act, the prospect becoming increasingly distant because I certainly don’t have “above 25” written on my face, or even an ID to prove it.
So I’m left to do what has now become the only incentive to go to work. Downloads. Yes, thank god that India is not internet isolated. But coming to think of it, I don’t think any country is. So that doesn’t put us in any advantageous position. Other countries are way ahead of us economically, technologically and musically. Ah who the hell cares! I just console myself with the fact that even if any act comes here, they’ll do what every other international act does; give a merciless ear to our live-concert-deprived ones and go to South India.
One of the disadvantages of being in India is that you can enjoy the independent music scene only vicariously. Not for us the luxury of watching an Andrew Bird concert. Instead, we’re left with no choice but to listen to the umpteen electronica acts that take up most of the dates in gig calendar. Not that I have a problem with that; electronica is thriving in India, but sometimes you can’t help wish The Raconteurs were playing their next gig here. Or that Radiohead would at least express a wish to tour India, and be touched by the fan following they certainly seem to be unaware of. Or how about The Flaming Lips? I’d give an arm and a leg to be in a Lips concert. I’d even kiss Wayne Coyne’s feet Timberlake-style, or even the entire cast of Arcade Fire, (Win Butler included, although he smashed up a guitar in a bout of angst-induced juvenile outburst after performing Intervention live), even though none of them are worth $125 million.
But instead, I have to undergo the humiliation of having to plead with the manager of a popular nightclub to let me in to watch a multi-sensory act, the prospect becoming increasingly distant because I certainly don’t have “above 25” written on my face, or even an ID to prove it.
So I’m left to do what has now become the only incentive to go to work. Downloads. Yes, thank god that India is not internet isolated. But coming to think of it, I don’t think any country is. So that doesn’t put us in any advantageous position. Other countries are way ahead of us economically, technologically and musically. Ah who the hell cares! I just console myself with the fact that even if any act comes here, they’ll do what every other international act does; give a merciless ear to our live-concert-deprived ones and go to South India.
No comments:
Post a Comment