Kirtana Kumar, Priya Mendens and Shalini Subramanian join Thermal And A Quarter at The Highland Nectar, a spacious and lively bar occupying pride of place at the Grand Arrival Court of the ITC Royal Gardenia. Look forward to an evening of uplifting performances as the divas regale you with their chosen favourites and lend their signature flourish to TAAQ’s unique repertoire.

Bangalore-based actor and theatre personality KIRTANA KUMAR keeps her fine singing talent carefully obscured though, in an unguarded moment, she admitted to us that “in my dark (albeit lovely) past, I used to sing.” Her most recent singing gigs were for Kevin Oliver’s “Shakuntala” in Dubai and her own production (with husband Konarak Reddy) “One Night in Paris” in Bangalore. She is currently on tour with Anil Abraham’s “Gentlemen”.

Few music-loving Bangaloreans need an introduction to PRIYA MENDENS. For 15 years she has been performing lead roles in musicals such as “Hello Dolly”, “Fiddler on the Roof”, “Grease”, “Kiss of the Spider Woman”, etc. She has shared stage with TAAQ in the past and looks forward to a memorable reunion.

SHALINI SUBRAMANIAN is equally excited about discovering new soundscapes as she is about designing clothes for her fashion label “Plantation House”. Trained in Indian classical voice from the age of four, she was influenced by her dad’s indiscriminate attention to harmonies that range from refrigerator drones to tanpura tones. She loves Hindustani classical music, classical and contemporary jazz, and enjoys folk music from all over the world. She has previously joined TAAQ in concert.

OCT 29 at Highland Nectar, ITC Royal Gardenia, 1, Residency Road, Bangalore. Entry free (it’s not some fancy invite-only do). Be there with friends.

RSVP here

The post Gig alert: TAAQ and the Divas, Oct 29, Bangalore appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

Being in college, going out to Hard Rock Cafe is something that one has weigh the pros and cons of very carefully. But when TAAQ is playing at Hard Rock, it’s a no-brainer. You know that you’re going to get your money’s worth. In fact I think it’s a steal!

Thermal And A Quarter, in my opinion, is one of the most professional bands I’ve ever seen live! Thursday night was no different. Now I’ve been to a lot of TAAQ gigs, but every show is just awesome.

You have to give it up to the band for being so stubborn about playing only original music for so long. Even their covers are ‘Thermalised’. Only TAAQ can get away with changing songs like ‘Hey Jude’ and still getting the crowd to appreciate it. Bruce asked, “You think Paul would’ve liked that?”

I’m sure Paul would reply, “It’s bloody brilliant mate!”

Now to the originals, what can one say, every single one is just a trip. TAAQ always likes to change things up. To get in Mr. Ravichandra Kulur on the flute was stroke of genius! The flute fell seamlessly into the tweaked version of ‘One Small Love’ and played its part in that sweet song. It was also nice to hear Bruce’s guitar fills for ‘Paper Puli’ on the flute. Rajeev’s drum patterns on ‘Surrender’ almost make you want to dance. I miss Rzhude a lot, but Prakash seems to be right at home with the band and puts in some really groovy bass lines. He puts in some interesting solos as well. Great to see the overall vibe of the band still being the same . But missed Jason on the keys and the backup vocals. And Bruce, is he a guitarist who sings, or a vocalist who plays guitar? One of life’s great mysteries. His guitar tone is superlative through all their songs, whether it be ‘Simply Be’, ‘Respectable’ or ‘Drunk’. He has the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand, with his signature witty response to random drunk comment or gesturing to the crowd to sing softly, as though turning the volume down on a radio! The two new originals were great (one was ‘Clean Up’ I think). Thanks to the band for releasing ‘Grab Me’. Perfect for bluesy nights. But please, for god’s sake come out with a new album fast! ‘Ordinary Affair’ and ‘Chameleon’ (just to name a few) are just addictive!

My favourites for the night were ‘Hey Jude’, ‘Grab Me’ and ‘Chameleon’. But I like all the songs because it’s so nice to see a band absolutely love what they are doing!

Another trademark is the smile on the face of each one of them on stage. Great job guys!

See ya at the next gig.

The post Vineet Jose reviews the Hard Rock Cafe Bangalore gig appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

Thursday, August 5. Hard Rock Cafe, Bangalore.

We return to show off our Maldivian tans!

Three-piece again, with lotsa juice.

Be there!

RSVP on Facebook

The post Gig alert: Bangalore, Hard Rock Cafe, Aug 5 appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

TAAQ in 2000 with their first album, Thermalandaquarter.com

Even our most articulate culture commentators tolerate Indian rock music with exasperated indulgence, treating it as the fetish of cultural misfits who overstay in the waiting room between adolescence and oblivion. Having documented an independent rock band for nearly 15 years, I try to set the record straight on that immaculate misconception (thanks to a new friend for that phrase!).

Just as in Mumbai/Bombay (which languishes in its own cultural Truman Show) and Delhi (which appropriates culture as if its only representatives are those that camp in the capital), in Bangalore the underground pop/rock/jazz music movement began in nightclubs (like Boscos and Three Aces) where musicians were paid to perform covers of contemporary hits. When an overactive excise department (in collusion with the moral police) forced these joints to close shop, musicians were left with no stage.

The Music Strip (a brainchild of the late Sunbeam Motha) revived the movement somewhat in the early 1980s, launching bands like Human Bondage. Motha followed it up in the late 1990s with the Night Of the Long Guitar (where I watched the Sarjapur Blues Band for the first time) someplace in the backwoods of Bannerghatta. I was there — quite stoned as was customary then — so I don’t remember the coordinates.

That music movement preserved the exuberance of the Sixties and Seventies and distilled it into an expression of its own making. Refining that expression and beveling its edges into something rich and strange took time. Along the way, initiatives like Freedom Jam gave city bands a soapbox for their voice. But the money still wasn’t there. Organizers of college cultural festivals, which offered the best opportunity to draw crowds, favoured cover bands — mostly from Mumbai and Delhi. Local bands had it rough. The meagre prize money at semi-pro band competitions hosted by collegiate festivals such as Autumn Muse (St John’s Medical College) and Vibrations (Indian Institute of Science) offered incentive for new bands to strut their stuff. Even here, original music wasn’t the highlight. Crowds wanted Bon Jovi or Iron Maiden or Metallica, depending on how high they were, or how low they cared to stoop.

TAAQ and crew watch Ian Paice (Deep Purple's drummer) at soundcheck, April 2001

On April 1, 2001, Deep Purple performed in Bangalore. It was the first big appearance of a major Western rock band in Bangalore (Aside: When Roger Waters stopped by on his 2001 “In The Flesh” tour, one of the TAAQ boys got a chance to shake hands with guitarist Snowy White who asked him: “Deep Purple? Were they any good?”). For the first time, a local band — Thermal And A Quarter — was given a chance to open for the British legends. They played a complete set of originals that night, despite shortchanged sound, dimmed lights and no fee.

Two years earlier (in July 1999), TAAQ — then three years old — organized the Potatoe Junkie Concert at the amphitheatre behind Ravindra Kalakshetra. The gate collection went to a charity for soldiers martyred at Kargil. In November that year, the band organized Floodaid, a fundraiser for flood-affected villagers in Orissa. These events marked the first times that an independent band made money playing its own music at a completely self-organized gig.

A very wet Bruce Lee Mani narrowly escapes electrocution at FloodAid, November 1999. A spirited crowd cheered through the torrential rain and held up a sheet of tarpaulin over the band when things got too gusty.

Thermal And A Quarter’s music, to those who came in late, is a commentary on the angst of being Bangalorean in a city racked by change. And change — we know — is never completely desirable despite its inevitability.

My piece on the band’s music, published in today’s Mint Lounge, traces TAAQ’s relevance and rootedness to Bangalore’s cultural milieu, and argues that independent rock music can actually represent the sound of a city, if only one cares to listen.

Excerpt:

A thousand or so 30-something Bangaloreans might remember the date 24 July 1999. That day, Taaq performed at the Potatoe Junkie concert and hauled the city’s underground rock music movement to the surface. The theme song—its title inspired by former US vice-president Dan Quayle’s infamous spelling howler—sneered at the city’s growing obsession with cable television. The band played a 2-hour set consisting mostly of original songs and, after breaking even, donated Rs 15,000 to a relief fund for the families of soldiers martyred during the Kargil war.

MORE

Separately, I am also quoted by the Times of India‘s Sandhya Soman in her article “Do Indian musicians make a mark abroad?” published today in the paper’s Crest edition.

Cross posted from Bijoy’s blog

The post Bangalore's Own Roots Rock appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

A few weeks ago, in a pocket of India remembered only by scuba-diving tourists, Boa Sr spoke her last words. With her passing, the Great Andamanese of India’s far-flung Andaman islands lost more than a member of their tribe. They lost – we lost – the last living speaker of Bo, their native tongue and – what should have been for the rest of us – a national treasure.

Besides a few stray newspaper articles, little was said about this unspeakable loss. Maybe no words remain to describe it. Had it been Sanskrit that died, it would have been felicitated with a mausoleum of eulogies.

There are some that do not mourn the death of languages; instead they choose to celebrate such demises claiming that they serve to unite the world. And there are some who are at seemingly endless war over languages – over the right to speak them and the right to prevent them from being spoken.

India has 26 official languages among a total of 452 listed by The Ethnologue, along with thousands of dialects. Our northern states were not divided on the basis of language but in southern India, language was the factor that drew the tenuous borders between Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra, and set Tamil Nadu apart from Kerala, and Orissa from Andhra. While all of these states have a good mix of speakers of all languages and immigrant communities that have lived there and integrated into the society and economy far longer and far deeper than some of the locals, the officialdom associated with language draws a sharp wedge between people. As we read this, Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra are bowing to these divisive forces.

In Bangalore, for instance, Tamil-speaking labourers have consistently been targeted while the largest population of non-Kannada speakers – those who speak Telugu – carry on un-maligned. With the recent migration of people from the north Indian states into Karnataka, auto-rickshaw drivers have started to speak Hindi even before they utter a phrase in Kannada. Yet, their resentment of them is unmasked. On the other hand, pro-Kannada groups are pressing demands for reservation and fuelling anti-English agitations.

Our languages, considered by the awestruck outside world as a testimonial to our diversity, are today the fault-lines along which our society is being divided. Who are the real instigators of this divide – the passive people or the hyperactive political mafia?

In the trained tongues of scholars, language becomes a sharp tool for enlightenment and social integration. In the loose tongues of knaves, it degenerates into a blunt weapon.

At the One Small Love concert on February 14, Saswati Chakravarty, former senior editor of The Economic Times and an ardent Bangalorean, examined the question of language as a tool of cultural assimilation.

Saswati arrived 25 years ago in Bangalore from Kolkata (then Calcutta). Though she did not feel like an outsider in the city that “accepted differences”, she learned Kannada and explored theatre, film and music in the native language of her adopted city.

But did her learning Kannada make her an insider? Does knowing to speak Kannada give her a feeling of empowerment? Through this process of assimilation, what happened to the Bengali in her? Can the notions of language and culture be used interchangeably as they often are today?

Where do we draw the line? And who will draw it?

Watch the video for an enlightening perspective from this acclimated Bangalorean.

Discuss the issue of language here.

The post Free Speech is music to our ears – Saswati draws the line appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

This is a poem about love.

Just listen to me – a poem, she says. Bravely.

But today’s Valentine’s Day, right? Oh, go ahead, buy your lover a furry toy monkey, listen to the Carpenters, for god’s sake, without blushing. “It’s the love that I’ve found ever since you’ve been around…” Listen to James Blunt without cringing. “You’re beautiful…”

But seriously, what is this notion, this emotion called love? This passion, this obsession, this confusion called love? This attraction? Creation? Collaboration? Communication? You know, people, you can take almost any noun with a shin sound and make it an aspect of love.

Naan yaav bhashe nalli mathaaadbeku antha, yaaaru nan-hattara hel beda, hel baaradu. Samaj mein aaya? Purinjitha? Manasilaayo, maashey? And if I could learn to speak all 22 scheduled languages and all its glorious hundreds of dialects I would speak them all, I would sing them all to you.

My culture is made up of many colours, many faces, many tongues. It has no room for hate of the “other”.

to love.

C K Meena, well known to Bangaloreans for her tart, witty columns on life in their ever-changing cityscape, has written two books of fiction — the semi-autobiographical Black Lentil Doughnuts and the crime thriller Dreams for the Dying.

The post One Small Love – C K Meena on Love appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

Address:
#2, Doddenakkundi Industrial Area, Opp. Shell Petrol Station, Brookefields Main Road, Off ITPL Road, Bangalore

Phone: 9844030198 / 080-40943031

From MG Road via Old Madras Rd and Whitefield Rd


View Larger Map

From MG Road via Old Airport Road


View Larger Map

From Marathahalli Bridge

View Larger Map

From Koramangala via Inner Ring Road and Old Airport Road

View Larger Map

The post One Small Love – How to get there appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

Last year, February 14 was Violentine’s Day.

With the world in turmoil and India licking the wounds of 26/11, the last thing we needed was for churches to be desecrated and women to be attacked in pubs and on the streets of our cities.

Thermal And A Quarter responded to this climate of hate and suspicion with One Small Love, a song that persuaded you to perform a small act of kindness to make a difference in a tired world. The music video, broadcast on YouTube, continues to be very popular.

This year, One Small Love is echoed by the collective voice of Bangalore’s concerned citizens.

On February 14, 2010, join us for ‘One Small Love – Bangalore for Mangalore’, a convention of concerned and like-minded Bangaloreans, to celebrate the spirit of freedom and tolerance with free speech, food and music.

The event will see performances by Konarak Reddy, Allwyn Fernandes, Gaurav Vaz, Ravi Kulur, Gerard Machado, Karan Joseph, Swarathma and Thermal And A Quarter.

‘One Small Love – Bangalore for Mangalore’ begins at 7 pm at Opus in the Creek, Brookefields, Bangalore, on February 14, 2010. Entry is free. Come in peace.

If you are not in Bangalore, show your solidarity by becoming a fan of the ‘One Small Love’ Facebook page.

Draw the line. Spread the love.

And watch this space for updates over the week.

Special thanks to Merwyn Rodrigues for the poster. And, eternally, to the incredible folks at Happy for dreaming up the music video that started it all.

The post One Small Love – Bangalore for Mangalore appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

Despite my own leanings, I cannot take seriously any article on the Indian rock music scene that dwells in the era of imitative cover performances, or performances of so-called originals that are so totally “inspired” by popular covers that they are no different from them at all. That stuff is so ten years ago. Maybe twenty. Without any vintage value whatsoever.

The “fascinating article” (by Arjun S Ravi on MTV Iggy) that Cicatrix speaks of in Sepia Mutiny reads like ‘The Best of RSJ (1992-1999), with Notable Exceptions’. It’s all been documented before with elan and sincerity by Amit Saigal. Today, it’s dated. Because it casually ignores a significant slice of Indian rock history — the independent music scene in Bangalore, which was where the really surprising stuff started to emerge from the mothballed closet in the late 1990s. In businesspeak, this era was when Indian rock music sought to “differentiate” itself. Not through marketing strategy (a la Parikrama et al which still have nothing to offer the discerning music fan) but through inventiveness, performance and startling creative energy. Ergo, I am not sure if Ravi’s omission stems from ignorance (which is unforgivable) or from personal bias (which is charlatan).

Thermal And A Quarter, as those who know their Indian indie scene know, began this revolution by playing entire three-hour sets comprising only originals — as early as 1999. No Indian band, repeat, no Indian band (save some in that fantastic cultural pocket — the Northeast) was doing that then. One other band that did it explosively — and I was witness to their memorable show at Madras Christian College’s Deep Woods in 1996 — was (then not-yet-Mumbai’s) Chakraview (with Dhruv Ghanekar on some serious gizmo-led guitar).

Perhaps Ravi also might want to remember that Laila Rouass-starring black-and-white music video, Colourblind, by the Mumbai band of the same name (the duo of Ram Sampath and Siddharth Achrekar). It was a brilliant new statement (very indie) and added a dimension to Indian rock that did not hitherto exist (or last). Sampath (now a composer for films and famous for his copyright victory over the Roshans for copying the music of Krazzy 4) told me off the record when I interviewed him (about Ram Madhvani’s Let’s Talk for Rediff.com in December 2002) that Colourblind “had not been viable”.

Viability has always been the gradient against which Indian indie rock has laboured. Indus Creed, after showing us the light, disappointed us by disbanding and resurfacing again as Alms for Shanti, with an eponymous album that was released both in English and Hindi (Kashmakash, Free Spirit, 2001). Alms for Shanti, with a name that sounded like it had been coined by an armchair Indologist at the University of Hawaii, plays the club circuit in New York where they have established themselves as export-reject exotics. Although singer Uday Benegal cribbed about the sleaze in the music industry as an aside during an interview with Rediff.com in 2002, he also told me this: “We went West because we were disillusioned with the East. Because the music we were doing at that time had absolutely no place here. Not that we were seeking salvation in the West. We wanted to go ahead with the music we make and look for the audience in the West.”

That’s one way to go, but if you know the audience to be here you have to be loyal to it. It must be remembered that around the same time that Alms for Shanti announced their album to a crowd of wine-sipping and tikka-nibbling celebs at a swank Tardeo lounge bar, a lot of bands that had been either influenced by TAAQ or shared the same struggle emerged from Bangalore — Kryptos, Myndsnare, Galeej Gurus, Zebediah Plush… And I am not even talking in any detail about the metal scene (which, being loud enough as it is, deserves an altogether different celebratory writeup amid a full-flowing headbangathon at Styx).

That TAAQ (still an unsigned band) was not from Bollywood-besotted Mumbai or Hindi-mein-gao-yaar Delhi or still-smoking-the-Sixties Kolkata was really what went against them when they started. Or the fact that their music was a leap year ahead of the public imagination — I mean, how many Benadryl-swillers orgasming in the moshpit had actually heard of (let alone heard) Steely Dan and Pat Metheny, or even imagined that they could influence an Indian band’s sound? The few critics of this counterculture — jealous jilted lovers of it mostly — judged the music by a myopic yardstick: the done-to-death genres of metal and dinosaur rock.

With Jupiter Cafe (2002), TAAQ’s second album, Bangalore shot into the limelight. It continued with Plan B (2004), the first album from India to be distributed with a custom Creative Commons-like license. These, inarguably, were milestones in Indian rock. Indie media (Indiecision, Split, RadioVerve… hell, even the un-indie Rolling Stone) acknowledged and celebrated them. MTV, which has always fed off the now happily moribund record industry (recently resuscitated by MJ’s passing) and now mooches off Bollywood to survive in the subcontinent, has no authority to comment on the indie scene. In the two fitful decades of Indian rock, MTV has neither recognised nor supported the indie movement. And to pay lip service to it now, with a limp biscuit such as this, is both embarrassing and shameful.

As the man who named his daughter Moon Unit said: “In the fight between you and the world, back the world.”

Part of this rant was originally posted as a comment on the muchly admired Sepia Mutiny

Photo: TAAQ from the back by SlickThief

Cross-posted from here

The post Wha…?! Indian rock history minus TAAQ?! appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).

Never has a Hard Rock Cafe gig sounded so delicious (loud, yes, but good) and not in a long time has TAAQ played its four-chambered heart out like it did on Thursday night at Bangalore. And I say this as a very disgruntled photographer who found the lighting, the cross-beams and the fat railings thwarting the remotest photographic possibility. The one thing that made my night was the way these guys played, and the way the gig sounded.

There was talk of a “new PA” and the boys sounded very excited about it. But I know at least three HRCs in India to be notorious for their acoustics — for the most part, they are hollow, sepulchral places and the stages (except in Pune) are placed where most people wouldn’t care to notice the band. Which means the band usually must make most of the effort to get itself noticed.

Rajeev finds something amusing about the set list

I didn’t pay much heed to Shut Up, but right from Respectable, the quality of the sound was very impressive. Actually, that nice lush sound was a pleasant surprise and I had to keep pinching the next guy (a very unlucky Umesh) to convince myself that it wasn’t my uncharacteristic sobriety that was making me hear things.

Tripping over a very drunk couple who first tripped on the music, then on each other and then sprayed the floor with fragrant bile, I craned my neck for a decent angle and finding none, resolved to wait it out and listen to the gig for a change. A very smart decision, in the end.

There were heartbeats of an old TAAQ magic — some impromptu, loosening-up jams and evidence of visible on-stage chemistry especially from the freshly recuperated Rudolph David. Won’t Stop and Mighty Strange were followed up by a slightly muscular version of Hey Jude. Ordinary Affair was tight and Holy Jose had an extra smack of la-di-da from Jason. My favourites from the evening were Drunk and Grab Me.

More photos on our Flickr page

The post The 'Rock' in Hard Rock Cafe appeared first on Thermal and a Quarter (TAAQ).