Its all gone Pete Tong

I have been accused of posting only indie music. This is war.

So here is what you have to do, download all the songs, then listen to them in sequence. Let me know if you are still in your chair after it is all over. Conditions apply. But at least pump the volume.

Its all gone Pete Tong is a decent movie. It gets much better after a while. Paul Kaye pulling of the wasted trip is not much fun. But then to see a movie about a DJ who goes deaf and then composes music feeling the vibrations through large speakers is just the thing to do when you are feeling a little low.

Good to have so many people on Zonuts. Someone please fix the bleeding header. Lets go back to the old one if no one can fix it. A big red rectangle is hardly my idea of a music blog facade.

The last track is not from the movie. Its Asian Dub Foundation at its angry best. Yeah. Yeah.

I first heard about the ADF in extraordinary circumstances. Mike Marquesse, a journalist whose column I read every week in the Sunday Magazine of the Hindu, had written a book on Bob Dylan. It was being published by Seagull Publications in Delhi. Whee.

So this Seagull guy is a proper North Indian businessman, who thinks he is also cool. He has a weird sort of friendship with Mike, one born out of mutual benefit rather than mutual interest. So anyway. To cut a weird story short, Mike Marquesse is to unveil his new book “Chimes of Freedom” at the Delhi University book store. DELHI UNV BOOKSTORE. Many a grand book launches we have missed, too lazy or too broke to go south. But this was right here. So we trudged off, vigourously wondering as to whether we would get a free mango lassi or not. George, Udayan, Tirthankar and me. In Oscillating order of height. So we reach there and thats it. We were the only people there. Four of us, Mike Marquesse (author of “Chimes of Freedom” and balding superhero) and Mr.Something (shrewd publisher).

What else can I say? It was great. We spoke about Dylan and his book and music and movements and mango lassi. For young aspiring connoisseurs of everything musical, he was a gift from England.We were amazed that no one came. For Dylan’s sake at least. But thats how it is. Even the publisher left us. He mumbled something about something and left.

I wonder what the author thought. Imagine. You write a book. You find madman publisher who wants India rights. You go to Delhi. You go to Delhi University, the great fertile soil from which the minds that mother the scene arise. You get one star struck Dylan fan, one know-it-all who stayed quiet, realizing how little he knows, one fat gay slob who insists on touching you, and me.

Oh, dang it. So this Mike guy told me about Asian Dub Foundation. So there.

Remember to queue the first three tracks. Happy jumping.

Intro [mp3]

Schwab – DJ’s in a row [mp3]

Deep Dish – Flashdance (Raul Rincon Mix) [mp3]

Asian Dub Foundation – Target Practice [mp3]

Over the hill

Ah. I take upon my able shoulders the responsibility of restoring some sanity here. After Perakath’s blitzkreig of Akon and solo dancing (that eternal medicine which never fails to get your spirits up) its back to some mellowness, by permission from your highnesses.

So I went to Mumbai and  I was introduced to Mumford & Sons. This homemade recipe sounding set up is quite good, they are fresh from the realm of the unknown. I like them. As usual have no idea of their roots, choice of desert, shape of toes or calories spent in playing D major in a “Little Lion Man”. For those interesting tids, bits and blitherbublah, we have our very own Yohan John, who will glad oblige, indulge and zap you with his “band-width”

Look ma I am in black and white

Arrey man, two in morning no, what to tell.

Ok I saw I’m not there and there he was. Not Dylan, but Richie Havens. The face I will never forget. He is what I associate with the vibe of Woodstock. Him in his kurta, leather sandanls, sweating in the afternoon sun, tapping his foot with an intensity matched by the tightness with which he switched the guitar chords, despite his unconventioanal hold. I think that song was called freedom. Thank you Martin Scorcesse fpr bringing us freedom.

The song is beautifully pictured in the movie too, old Richie Havens with a young black woody guthrie and a fat middle aged man singing in the sunshine, in the porch of a whitewashed wooden house. I bet Huckleberry Finn was lurking in the garden.

I am not sure but I think I may have put up Frank Zappa a while ago (We need to have that search feature on the site Yo) but in case I haven’t here he is. Zappa is one guuy we really didn’t get into much during college, we always thought he was a bit irrelevant and its actually quite surprising that we missed him altoghether. I know Yohan and Murthy at different points of time thought of listening to him actively , but it never happened.  So Zappa, sorry da.

I think I should just stop writing, its too late into the night to try and be coherent.

Lots of love,

Salil

Mumford & Sons – Little Lion Man [mp3]

Richie Havens cover of Bob Dylan’s – Tombstone Blues [mp3]

Frank Zappa – San Ber’Dino [mp3]

Session tracks

Butterfly by Abraham George. All rights reserved. Do not flick.

Its been a long time since a session. A really long time. Every now and then I come across music and I say, you know what this song needs? It needs us and some yellow light and silence.

They are my most cherished memories of college, life even. I made all my friends in that room. There are now songs that are the soundtrack of people and phases in my life. Shine on you crazy diamond with Chandra, Paranoid Android with Yohan, Heart of Gold with Jakka, Jethro Tull with Tommy, is what comes to mind at the first go, but they are, as in everyone else’s life, countless more.

For a person perceived to be talkative, I value silence most highly. My best moments are quiet ones, be it in 32 or 478 or U-21 or what you will.

I walk my dog, I listen to Devils and Dust and I want to be back in one of these places, looking at nothing and everything all at the same time.

Its harder now, I have quit smoking, people I love are too far away. I put up with Dilli 6 and Dev D and all that here, but its the BOSS who I really ache for. I stay quiet, sober, in my my room and type.

Bruce Springsteen – The Wrestler [mp3]

Cat Stevens – Morning has broken [mp3]

Iron and Wine – Freedom hangs like heaven [mp3]

Slowing to a trawl

When my time’s up, I trawl. I can feel when the time to trawl is nigh. Everything upto then has been leading up to that one moment when you decide to just go find new music. You scrounge the internet. You scowl, you snivel, you scurl.

The situation is grim. Work has piled up, your guilt mixed with healthy doses of irritation make your near and dear ones side step your presence faster than a Kobe cross-over. The computer welcomes you into its arms. You watch a movie to kill time till dinner. You get sicker. And then when all hope is lost, you seek and find and become a trawler (sounds fishy).

Music zaps through bandwidth, the hard disk juices start filling. Then you find them. The gems, amongst several tons of chaff. And you become yourself once more. Light, cheerful, relaxed and full of sound. You turn to your bed and sleep like a log. Next day you work like never before and put up the life changing music for everyone to hear.

So here it is. Diamonds are forever by the Arctic Monkeys is bound to superb, the Dandy Warhols have been around for Dandy’s years, I have always liked them.

Shilpa is to thank for MIA’s Paper Planes from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack, my days are now as groovy as hers are. All I wanna do is….take your money. MIA, third world democracy, I got more records than the KGB, so no funny business. The song is played in the beginning when the kids are running from the cops disrupting their cricket match on Juhu airfield. MIA is Sri-Lankan. Go girl.

Then there is total randomness. A band called Dengue Fever. I take my shirt off and yoddle along this song in my room during the afternoon. Its makes everyday memorable. I don’t even know what language it is, Korean probably.

Finally some sense and Lou Reed. Live in the magic moment.

Diamonds are Forever (Shirley Bassey) -Arctic Monkeys cover [mp3]

The Dandy Warhols – Hit Rock Bottom [mp3]

MIA – Paper Planes [mp3]

Dengue Fever – Seeing Hands [mp3]

Lou Reed – Magic Moment [mp3]

There is no time for the lost generation

There exists a favourite band. Its one you have discovered on your own, loved everything about, but never bothered to explain this affection to anyone. Like a local football team, you love it, even though you don’t know why. Maximo Park is my favourite band.

The White Stripes is my best band and Led Zeppelin is also my favourite, but these guys take the mushy cake. I don’t know who they are, I never “found-out”. I liked them since I heard Wasteland. I understood the lyrics, I like the guys’ (Paul something?) voice. Their songs are most importantly intelligently written and have a certain appeal to me. Lyrics like “Why did we have to meet, on the night I lost my head” are a chronicle of turbulent times in our lives.

The thing about the lyrics are that they are simple, yet incisive and have a special irrelevance, like a joke only you seem to get. The music is not exceptionally skilled but tight and makes you sing along. “We used to talk about girls who play guitars, we used to talk about clowns in tiny bars. In the gaps between words, are the things that really intrigue me. We used to talk about our high horse every time, we used to talk about boys with missing spines.” No need to go to getlyrics.com to figure out that now. But do you see what I mean? Huh? Huh? Not deep like radiohead, but sharp, eh? And that personal touch. We have spoken about high horses all the time. We have spoken about clowns in tiny bars, and about girls who play guitars. Its her life, but her life is worth living. I think I am getting carried away here, because the song is playing as I type. Wheeeeee! I love these guys man.

Oh yeah, they have been around for a while now, at least 4 years or so I think. Who CARES? I like their AESTHETIC. The music is just a part of it, their wasted trips are lovingly documented, their photos are great, the composition of the posters and the font is good too (Oh God). Why all of a sudden you may ask. Its because I saw this:

See what I mean. What gazes. What simplicity. Is music good design too. You bet it is.

So yeah, the songs. I put up the likeable ones, but the real joy is (as very often happens) in the lesser known ones. Wasteland is not on any of their two albums, Apply Some Pressure and Going Missing (my song of the week) are from their first album, A Certain Trigger. Girls Who Play Guitars and Karaoke Plays are from the newer, Our Earthly Pleasures.

Have a hear. Get your ear back from Mr.Marcus Antonius (whom you lent it to with those other chaps, Romans and whatnot) and stick it in your speaker. God, this is such an unlike me post. I have used so many parenthesis. Ah, chuck it.

Hey, write to me if you like these guys and want more music, I got both their albums. For keeping the Zonuts tradition, haven’t pasted all the songs here. But oh, Russian Literature, oh, Sandblasted and Set Free, oh, Kiss You Better, such gems! Ah, am going back to listening/ singing/ dancing to the albums. They have got much airplay in my space. Every night we have so much to say, I want to hear all the things you did today. Defacing famous people’s faces on the train, standing by the monument just waiting for the rain. I am just passing my time, with you on my mind.

I think I’ll stop now.

Maximo Park – Wasteland [mp3]

Maximo Park – Apply Some Pressure [mp3]

Maximo Park – Going Missing [mp3]

Maximo Park – Girls Who Play Guitars [mp3]

Maximo Park – Karaoke Plays [mp3]

Maximo Park – Abhi bas kar gadhe, bandwidth ki le raha hai.

Amol, digging in a hole

Grassroot performed live at NID on Saturday night, they brought the damn house down. A straggly bunch of musicians let loose at a 30000 watt sound system. Their lead vocalist was some moron who has come a long way from E-Le-Va-Tion. Eric Clapton let out a howl of pain at their rendition of Cocaine, the director of NID walked out, the crowd went beserk, the bassist was literaly tripping (over the damn wires), the crowd got a glimpse of my stomach, but who cares? who cares?

Man, we were flying. Stage debut. No more singing to soap, super strong showers and green Garnier bottles. Out of the bathroom and into the light. What a day. What a night.