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Wrote this one a while back, premiered it at a couple of gigs in Bangalore recently. Folks seem to like it. Words – with a little help from Messrs. Venugopal and Das.

Grab your biggest problem
By the words it can be written with
Put it down
Put it down
On the coloured paper
Don’t save it for later
Put it down.
Now your fingers
Can delicately fold and crease
And quietly release
The wonder
Hidden in the paper
So fine…

The paper is the door
The paper is the window
Welcome to the fold
We’ve got a long way to go

Just take this paper heart and remember
The places you’ve been in my mind
We used to know how to make
A paper swan
Is it gone…
Oh to be young again
Can you keep up with this geometry
The shape of all our memory
So go ahead, and fold me
Into your silly origami
Hold me, fold me, love me
In this silly origami

circa 1999? what;s with this rock thing and having to look the part…

2002? So we try harder!

In another 10 years they’ll have perfected that wonder hair drug…then just you watch…meanwhile my bald patch continues to spread!

watch this space!

IBNLive conducted a live chat with our guitar man yesterday. At the other end of the firing line, Mr. Mani appears to have had a great time, without ducking.

Read the whole transcript here 

With the retirement of the stalwarts, rock journalism (bite tongue in Zappaesque fashion with Bruce Lee Mani inflection) seems to have new rising stars. But this crop seems to find the comfort of the armchair/ bean bag and a few quick trips to their Google toolbar more gratifying than going out and getting the real story.

The real story? Hmm. Watzat anyway?

Simply put, here’s a rock journalism primer for those who aspire to that vainglorious profession:

a) Look like a rock star: It’s important to get noticed in a crowd of earnest rock fans. More so, rock stars take immediate notice of people who threaten their identity. Mention that you are a journalist and respect spurts out like blood from a pricked jugular.
b) Wear your altitude: Remember, you dwell in those high airs to which no ordinary music aficionado has access. Show your contempt for the riffraff and wear a studied smirk. Pierce every external visible part of your body and sport monstrous tattoos. Don’t bathe – you may wash off that funky smell, and getting it back again to the desired potency will take weeks.
c) Read a little: We know, we completely understand, you can even say we empathize… but you just can’t find the time to catch up on all that music history. There’s too much happening, isn’t there? And whenever you can grab a slice of time to unplug your headphones from the grating sound of Fergie, you have other things to do – like clubbin’ for instance. Why hang out at pubs that play dinosaur rock…that’s so ten years ago. And hey, getting to the point, there’s Rolling Stone online if you want to grab a few bites before an interview… we understand, you’re a busy person with a happening social calendar.
d) Ask cool questions with a cooler accent: All those frequent flier miles to the hip planet of Hop can warp your angrezi a bit. But that’s a cool accessory when you talk to your rock star subject. Ask cool, offbeat questions. No need to stick to the point – it’s all been done anyway. Examples? Umm…  What are your influences? Do you think you’ll become as famous as Justin Timberlake? What’s your take on that whole Paris Hilton jail sex thing? Did you vote for the Taj Mahal? (Note how many times cool appears here – that’s your coolness quotient.)
e) Write the story: And yes, in case you forgot. After all this, the story has to be written. Don’t bother with checking the facts. The actual content doesn’t matter so much – go for the visibility and your byline. And don’t forget to tell everyone you know about it after the interview is published. It’s important to build a portfolio, you know. That’s what will get you your next job. Maybe you could become an RJ…

One of India’s leading bands, Thermal and a Quarter, are set to bring their trademark fusion of jazz, funk and Carnatic music, to Likwid at the City Centre hotel, Manama this Friday.

More in Gulf Daily News

As-salaam alaikum!

When we were little, we went home to Mallu land for our school vacations. There, we met many little boys and girls whose daddies were away in the Gellf. Doing all kinds of jobs to earn money so that they could study and grow up and become good boys and girls. So that they could anoint their wives with gold from the souk and Yardley talc and Charlie perfume. So that they could distribute razor blades among their chettans and aliyans and chocolates to the neighbours.

In our fertile little minds, an idea took shape – that of the Mallu Fatherland. Simply, where all the fathers go between their painful two-month vacations in the land of god’s own beach party. Vacations where the dust in time’s hourglass slipped away faster than sandstorms in that faraway desert.

This June, we visit the Fatherland. Two gigs – one each in Dubai (June 20) and Bahrain (June 22). So all you good folks, gang up and land up. Here’s a toast to you all!

And here’s an interview in Time Out Dubai.

Until then, ma-assalamah!

Came across this:

http://dubai.timeout.com/dubai/features/review.php?id=1258

Been a while since I posted here – Guitar Dr. has been happening quietly on the side though.

BAC – the Band Association of Chennai – put together a good gig on Sat 26th, in association with CAN-STOP etc. As an organization, they’re but a few months old; they’re dreaming big and that’s good. This was probably the first time they’d got an outstation band to play in Chennai under their auspices, and barring some minor hiccups, this was a gooood gig.

No one can, like Air Deccan! (Remove comma and see what happens…) The copywriting genius who came up with that has obviously moved on to more challenging pursuits, for this glorious one liner was conspicuous by its absence. But the flight did take off on time. Received at Chennai airport by a sign-toting Bengoli called Obhinondon – the sign saying ‘Wishing for Magic’. Nice! TAAQ-friend Narayan believes fervently that air-conditioning is the greatest invention ever (“give the inventor a Nobel Prize every year!”), and when you’re in Chennai, you’re inclined to agree.

Put up at a decent hotel close to the Music Academy. Soundcheck 4ish. Spent most of the day lazing about, apart from a small trip to Central Station for a Tony-relative rendezvous and a pit stop at Ritchie Street to procure some jewel boxes for Plan B CDs. Ritchie St. is like the SP Road of Chennai – come to think of it, I think there’s an SP Road clone almost everywhere in India, which makes it as big as those others named after good old MG.
Soundcheck was good. Our man on the spot, Vinay, worked his usual magic on the mix. Buck’s Theatre in YMCA Nandanam is a good place – an old-fashioned red-brick amphitheater well within the YMCA campus, a good distance away from the road and sheltered by old old trees. Lots of folk milling about already – we’ve heard the buzz that this gig might be a sellout.

Watched almost all of Junkyard Groove’s set. First time seeing them live. Really seemed to be getting the crowd – with lots of fans up front singing along, etc. Missed Easy Street though. Heard they were good.

Got on stage pretty late – 10ish, but there was still a fair crowd waiting around. Launched off with Respectable, then Look At Me etc. Chainese Item featured a stalwart from a local band on that little fast-talking-menu intro. Good spirit there! It’s always great to have people not from your home town singing along with you, and there was a sizable bunch here that seemed to know a lot of our material. Our only recognizable cover for the night was received well too – Shine on! Humpty Dumpty was another highlight – it’s reassuring to think that we wrote this song way back in ’97 or ’98, and it’s still seems absolutely relevant today – and still has the same impact on an audience. Wrapped up with Hoedown and Motorbyckle.

Fuzzy – thanks for helping out on this, and you did a killer job dude.

A few more gigs and BAC should have definitely got its whole act together. Keep doing it, fellas.

Back in B’lore Sunday. Traffic. Sigh.