Friday, March 24, 2006

HEEP(ED) @ BANGALORE

BAND: URIAH HEEP
DATE: 08 MAR 06
VENUE: PALACE GROUNDS,
BANGALORE

MEMBERS:
VOCALS- BERNIE SHAW
LEADS- MICK BOX
BASS- TREVOR BOLDER
KEYBOARDS- PHIL LANZON
DRUMS- LEE KERSLAKE



I confess I wasn’t even in my diapers when Uriah Heep started off. Neither am I a ‘Heepster’ by choice. The very thought of a band named after a morbid Dickensian novel of the Victorian times seemed exciting. [I bought ‘The very best of Heep’ some months back. I still am under the impression that the CD showcases a totally different band than the LP’s & cassettes.]

It was after much trepidation that I chose to attend the concert at Bangalore. The show however kick started bang on time ( I was late by a good deal, a grand revelation that even rock shows could start on time hit me like a supercharged thunderbolt) with fast numbers like ’ Sunrise’, ‘Free Me’, ‘Gypsy’. I remember the last two songs particularly for the drummer was arthritically out of sync, rhythm. The bandwagon rolled on with numbers like ‘Rain’, ’Sweet Lorraine’& ended earlier than expected with the keyboards reminding of Jon Lord(very DEEPLY PURPLISH indeed). Two hours packed closer than sardines don’t do any justice to these ‘Also Grampas of Brit Rock’ (the original ones being the ubiquitous ‘Rolling Stones’) who have been playing over the past three decades or so; just goes on to tell you how the audience had to beg and plead for ‘Easy Livin’-one of their more popular songs.

The thing about Bangalore was that the ppl were too well behaved. Maybe it was because the majority was elderly couples who have been faithful to their band over the years or coz of the new rule that banned everything except Pepsi & its toxic rivals. I left the show with the great sounds of Mick Box & Trevor Bolder ringing in my ear with faint echoes of ‘Thank you very very much indeed’ which was the signature of Bernie Shaw.


Like most rock bands the foundation of Heep is solely on the skills of the lead guitarist and the bassist. The lyrics take a comfortably cushioned back seat to accommodate the two talents, regardless of the fact that the other three members have been changed more frequently than my diapers. The very idea of leather, long hair, booze, drugs, tattoos and lyrics with ‘Ooooh’s’ and more ‘Aaaaah’s’ filling empty spaces and used more freely than punctuation marks sound quite revolting. The local dog pound and the church choir seem to have played a major role in the transformation of a rock band to a pseudo rock metal gospel crooning one.

Friday, March 10, 2006

MICROPHONE ABUSER

History has its overflowing bounty of great speakers who could get a standing ovation for just lip-synching their own speeches or bubble a gum in front of a crowd. Julius Caesar, Hamlet, Theodore Roosevelt, JFK, Richard Feynman had the world by its two big ears making it listen to their thought provoking speeches. More recently Paris Hilton has the ears with her candid views& interviews on mundane things that don’t make an inch of difference in a poodle’s life.

There is a new breed of speakers or quackers who grab the mike & mercilessly go on for the next hour or so. Some wise guy who didn’t have a wristwatch once said ’Time & tide wait for none’; I am not sure of tides, but time sure comes to a standstill when (Im christening this guy as) ‘Pakao’ starts abusing …the mike.

The meetings chaired by Pakao are eagerly awaited by us suckers, armed with invisible ear plugs & waiting like the desperate suicide attempter on the train tracks for the light at the end of the tunnel. Heels dug in, one hand in a vice like grip choking the pitiful mike, all ready to orchestrate another soul stirring, tear jerking performance; he just seems to have missed his ride in the BEST bus to being a rock-star. The Scots with their lilting ’Sh’s’, the Aussies with their sweet ‘Oi’s’, the Irish with their rolling ‘Rrrr’s’ give the queen’s lingo it’s colour but the growling ‘Rrrr’s’ of this ghatlander (as in BOARRRD, HARRRD COPY,PASS THE SUGARRRR, HURRRY UP WITH THE REPORRRRT) crashes through tender eardrums slamming them down on a collision course with the palpitating heart. To get a clearer perspective, imagine that I am Tom when Jerry chooses to bonk down a bell over my/Tom’s head & gongs it harder than u can imagine.

Every other day this walking disaster makes us all the more eager to learn by rote’ the Apocalypse’, ’Genesis’, ’Noah’s (ULCC**) Ark, et al. The latest in a long list of never ending catastrophes was when he chose to crash the brand new SMART SWIPE CARD I.D database which didn’t have any back-up, with all of us glued to our positions staring transfixed at ill-defined infinity or whatever lay beyond it.

POST SCRIPT: THE NEXT MAIL WILL BE POSTED AS AND WHEN I LIVE TO SURVIVE THE NEXT CATASTROPHE WHICH IS JUST LURKING AROUND THE CORNER WAITING TO POUNCE.

** ULCC- as in ULTRA LARGE CRUDE CARRIER;Noah's Ark must have been really mammoth(and all other adjectives for big included)

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

scenes from a seminar/crumbs of wisdom(as u like it)

SCENES FROM SEMINAR/CRUMBS OF WISDOM (as u like it)

CLAIMER: THIS ARTICLE HAS BEEN EDITED & COMPILED BY ME & MY GOOD FRIEND MANISH KHANNA WHO LOVES HIS HAND SIGNAL AS MUCH AS HIS BIKE.


Seminars are a very novel means of swapping info and transforming some lower souls till they start resembling Buddha with a shiny bright halo at the end of the day. A truly disorganised seminar leaves its stamp of class with stale coffee, insipid tea, snacks that are look-alikes of UFO (Unidentified Fried Objects) and not to forget mementoes that resemble empty cola bottles from the nearby café. No seminar is incomplete without its colourful scenes and a predominantly stoned look in the audience. Here are some thoughts that over sped through two exceptionally brilliant minds on their highway to nirvana and enlightenment.


0800 What do u realise sitting here?

0805 What a waste of time?

0810 Are we really fools in sheep’s clothing?

0820 People have too much time.

0900 Nature’s law still holds true; the fittest survive till the end of the day.

0920 Theory of evolution; how a sleeping man evolves?

0930 Every 10 minutes u need to shift Ur ass – to realise that u have an ass and are not one.

0945 We are born to be screwed

1000 The attention span of the average guy is inversely proportional to the time spent listening.

1015 All people nodding their heads are either sleeping or haven’t understood anything.

1030 Pissing is contagious, so is yawning.

1045 Feel good factor-look around u, its not just u that’s sleeping.

1100 Pity the moderator.

1145 I smile bcos I don’t know what’s going on around me.

1245 The questions almost always fly over ur head, but the answers always boomerang with a knock out punch in the face.

1315 We are the worst hit of all; both time and space ain’t with us.

1330 Better get used to all this……much more heading Ur way.


Lunch...................................................................................... at last

1445 Garfield should have been here. On second thoughts……… why not Calvin?

1500 Lectures have the best ambience for sleeping.

1530 The warning bell is not to inform the last 10 minutes to the speaker, but to wake up the audience & tell ‘em to gear up for the next one.

1545 Who says time flies by, even the sloth is faster than father time …….. & the speaker.

1600 The number of doubts asked is inversely proportional to the time left for tea & lunch.

1630 Shit!! The bloody hall is nearly filled…… with empty chairs save for us idiots filling the backbenches. Who is this nut speaking to?



FRRRRRRR............................................EEEEEEEEDOMMMMM

india's largest selling newspaper is a TOI-let paper


A Letter of Condolence to The Editor

The TOI as is fondly revered amongst its nationwide readers is generally looked up for a variety of informative and entertaining articles. But off late the trend seems to be taking a turn for the worst. The only thing that the common man and the readers look forward to, spending three rupees a day is the common man himself and the centre page saving grace and sacred space. One cursory glance at the events that made the headlines over the fortnight is all it takes for anybody and nobody to understand why the editor doesn’t even believe in dropping names of the editorial staff in all the 20 sheets of cluttered newsprint.

The headlines were about the cost of furnishing and tiling a thirteen floor high rise in Surat, the tiling of a twelve floor high rise in Surat, a duplex in Surat, the new roads planned in Surat, a census of Surat’s diamond merchants, their likes & dislikes of the artificially sweet gujarati cuisine and not to forget their aesthetic dressing sense in different shades of white. Surat, more Surat, even more of Surat. Now, how should one grade an article on Surat’s diamond industry that doesn’t mention the ‘angadias’ anywhere in the whole of the half page? Downright bad journalism or simply bad editing.

Having been fed with piping hot coffee and ‘The Hindu’ or ’The Indian Express’ over the years, it should have sounded as a welcome change to the colourful TOI. But on closer introspection the color is all but a glaring collage without any artist to give finishing touches to make the shades pleasing and convey some meaning. Every page of news faces tough competition from the coveted classifieds. The journalist is reduced to a farce with news outsourced or pirated right from the internet or an unknown alien daily that wrote about Britney Spears’ colour of underpants. Not just classifieds, self-proclamations about digging out truth from the omnipresent confusion, opinion polls, views and counter-views fill the centre-page. With articles arranged so higgledy-piggledy how is it possible for the editor to pen his editorial, that too in the centre-page? Having seen such a trashy centre-page, it was but a pleasing thought that fleeted across the numbed mind when confronted by an apparition of an editorial; that was introduced without much fanfare or a gala page 3 party. Now that’s one area these guys are totally professional in. The truly exciting and novel sight that’s bringing about a cultural revolution in the social circles in terms of booze, fag, sense & nonsense; in varying stages of undress –P3P & its glitters. Another question pops up like a cotton seed: How tough is the competition given to ‘Filmfare’ & ‘Gladrags’?

The second last straw that broke my tender back and made me pick up my rusty pen was the headline of Rambo, the heroic dog of Raveena Tandon- a lady known for her off-screen romances( and not to forget her on-screen hip-breaking histrionics for the gastronomically troubled) lost in the cruel streets of Bombay, kidnapped & held for ransom. Some tender hearts fluttered, ECG’s dipped, floodgates opened that Bollywood and its gallons of glycerine couldn’t, tugging heartstrings and causing such emotional turmoil equalled only by hours of agony spent in watching the ‘K’ sops. Many offerings were made for the health of the poor dog. When the dog returned, by a very eager pet-shop owner, it made to the top-slot again with many more untugged heartstrings, tugged, tears of joy pouring by the buckets and many more pujaris happy to oblige the hordes, thanx to the brilliant coverage and investigative heights scaled only by the TOI. Three cheers to the only black Pomeranian that made it to the headlines of the TOI.

The piece-de-resistance was when SRK was the guest editor of the Mumbai edition for no rhyme or reason fathomed. No new movie was being released, so maybe he just wanted a feel of the neglected shoes of the editor. But that it made it to the headlines of the Ahmedabad edition along with a full page interview made very sad reading and all the more contradictory with two badly misrepresented elephants trampling lotuses in their five by two centimetres of reserved Sunday space, bearing the burden of a very heavy armour preaching ‘Let Truth Prevail’.