Thursday, May 19, 2011

Coke-blocked

4AM: Bright eyed and drowsy, at the same time, I push myself to sleep with goosebumps all over my left arm. After all, in a few hours, I would actually get to see a live recording session of Coke Studio - perhaps, India's only imported chances of staying alive in the live music scene.


8.30AM: Still groggy eyed and foul~breathed-ed, I wake up from my semi-sleep and start thinking of the day ahead. Still the "COKE STUDIO - OMFG!" thought seems larger than life ( Man, this is depressing..). After an hour of meticulously mapping out my travel plan, I set out for the Coke Studio session.


11.30AM: Ok, the hype is kinda' building up. There's a place called Cherish Studio in Malad West which is as hidden as ear corn. I think, maybe, it is some kind of conquest-completion thing where those who reach the final stage win something awesome. And then, I get through this huge black friggin' gate and I'm supposed to call somebody from the assistance staff to let me in. Pretty cool, I thought, for a fella' who's not contributing to the show in the slightest bit.

I meet the guy and he ushers me into this enclosure - a dark yet gleaming-on-one-side studio with railings for the camera, booths for recording and make-up,etc. and the stage which stood out like exactly from the Paki version. I was super-thrilled when I was taken to a seating arrangement that had GUESTS written beside it and was offered a glass of Coke. Damn!

12.30AM: Still on the edge of my seat. Waiting for the session to begin. I am trying to ignore the woman crooning on stage, the same song for the thirty-fourth time while cameras are hovering around her and some divine, reverb-laden voice from somewhere(??!?) is yelling at the make-up guys and clap boys to stop lolly-gagging on the sets. I see no musicians but there are seating arrangements similar to the Paki mould of the show. I am getting a tad bit antsy,

1.30 PM: Musicians are crowding up on stage. Too many people running around, arranging instruments, clicking photos, interviewing the talented folk, yelling at the lesser kind - it was a jamboree alright. I'm thinking, it's gonna be better than the Paki thing. Man, we've always outdone them blokes - aren't we taught that all the time?!. Yeah, we gonna spin some wheels and get the whole groove going. Rock n' roll, man!


2PM: WTF! Get me out of here! These guys are the assassins of music. I thought this was supposed to be Coke Studio *FTW* They are singing folk songs without any fusion bit, which eventually sounds like the folk stuff played to large, gyrating crowds - albeit, with western instruments playing the same damn beat. Apparently, the drummer was tricked into believing this to be a new-age dandiya music convention, enclosed in a dark 'hole' (read: hall). His obsession with the snare and floor tom is psychopathic.

And every second minute there is a cut - I can't hear the guitars but somehow, the bass player is trying to throw in some groove. I also think I saw one of the guitar players play mock chords,with convincing hand gestures on the fretboard. Shit!

3PM: Phew! Finally, somebody stopped playing for a while, at around 2.45 and I got to head out of there. I wanted to wait for a while and hear the other acts till 8 (yeah, right!) but these guys were in no mood to let me. I ran. I knew I ran because some stagehand reprimanded me midway and said ,"Boam nai maarneka!"

Never was I so relieved in the presence of stinging afternoon rays and humid air. For a moment, I went a bit treacherous and desired to be Paki just for the sake of saying," Damn you *neighbouring countrymen*, so what if we have a syntax-error-of-an economy and back-flipping politicians, we have Coke Studio - the real thing".

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