First Gig in Ally'bad -Extract from my Autobiography- “No Sex, some Drugs and a little bit of Rock & Roll”.

First Gig in Allahabad:

Extract from my Autobiography- “No Sex, some Drugs and a little bit of Rock & Roll”.

The music Scene at Allahabad in 1973, was, in my considered opinion at that time, ten years behind Bangalore, Mumbai and Delhi, which were ten years behind UK BBC’s Top Twenty. In 1973, the Rock scene in UK  with the Beatles, Rolling Stones, the Who, Merseyside, Soho and Carnby street were all more important than the USA which we considered as commercial except for Woodstock and Elvis.

For just a small provincial town – not even the state capital, Allahabad had quite a life of entertainment activities among its cognoscenti and westernized haute-pouri. Besides the Officers’ Messes of the Air force, the Army and the Paramilitary police, there was a Gymkhana Club, a Cosmopolitan Club, a Railway Institute and the Anglo Indian Thornhill Club too. There were also ‘socials’ in the local Boys and Girls Convents too.

All these afforded opportunity for amateur musicians – read Guitar Bands to provide ‘live’ the latest western dance music.

The Neophiliacs – their talent was their bassist Sanjeev Sircar, who also played for Shattered Prism the band from the Agricultural University at Naini just across the Jamuna. The Lead Singer of the Neophiliacs Vijay Benedict went on to become a minor celebrity as a singer, DJ and RJ in Delhi and Mumbai - quite a feat considering the fledgling state of the Indian Rock scene in the 1970s and 80s.

The Shattered Prism were very good, good equipment, latest repertoire and a keyboard which was unique at that time. They were also from very well to do families and were not in competition with the predominantly Anglo-Indian groups and rarely played Club or Mess gigs.

Chris Sheppard and Tony D’Cruz inherited their Bands from their fathers. This was not uncommon. Larry French who played Sax and Clarinet with us was a third generation musician. His grandmother had played Piano and his father drums in the very same hall in Thornhill club where I had my first gig in Allahabad.

This ‘show’ gave me my first experience of a rocking Anglo Indian party with all the frills thrown in.

The club had been built in the early 1900s. The only part of the structure which remained with the remnants of a rapidly diminishing Anglo-Indian community was the main Dance Hall. The next rooms – the card table room had become Larry’s home, while the Billiards room was occupied by another Anglo-Indian family. It had a springy wooden floor and looked quite large.

Or, perhaps it looked large because at 8 pm, one hour after the show was to start the hall was empty except for the band and the MC who was nervously flitting in and out of the gate. The “gate” or entrance was only Rs.2/- for members or their (approved) guests and ladies were free.

“Don’t worry, man”, said Larry, “they’re all tanking it up at the grog shop.” The country liquor shop was just down the road. Bubbles had already exhausted all his country songs to an empty hall and Larry most of his instrumentals “La Paloma, Fly me to the moon” etc. I piled into my set of hard rock – Hendrix and Cream of Eric Clapton. That started bringing some people into the hall.

Sanjeeb Sircar with Bruce Drummond, Chris Sheppard & Tony D’Cruz trooped in. “The other band guys,” said Bubbles waving a glassy put-on smile to them. By about 9 pm, the hall was quite full but nobody got up to dance. They were waiting for the MC to get the “senior most” couple to start livening up the dance floor. But once it got going, it really started rocking. We got a break when I magnanimously allowed the “rival” band guys to jam up a bit while I and the band went down to the local “pub”. There we found the MC taking a break with Mr. Scott the local headmaster of the Anglo-Indian boy’s school. They were adding a bit of caramelized sugar from a heated spoon to a full bottle of the local brew which was colorless. A reddish brown tint emerged.

“So that people will think it’s Rum, son. Not local grog,” explained the MC to me. Typically Anglo-Indian I thought – “Here’s to the best and fuck the rest” as they would always say in Bangalore, Asansol, Gorakhpur, Guntakal, Villupuram, Kanpur (Cawnpore), Arkonam, Bitragunta and several towns where strong Anglo Indian communities once existed.

When we got back for our last set it was almost midnight. I noticed Larry already getting all the gear together – even in those days there was always a mess of stands, cables, mikes, speaker boxes and amps. We were playing in a small “bay” with French bay windows. Larry opened one of them and the chill of the night wafted in.

“Get ready to take off soon, man,” said Larry, “we may have to move in a hurry.”

I was quite surprised. To me the scene seemed to have just warmed up and everybody was jiving vigorously, happily on the dance floor. I was just getting into the mood – there was a pretty girl really shaking it up just in front of me, encouraging, giving vibes and quite ignoring her partner. Everybody was trying to shout above the music volume.

Suddenly there was a big crash. A chair went sailing across the dance floor and crashed into the side wall. Fisticuffs were heard. The MC emerged from the milling crowd flying horizontally over the floor. He bumped into one of the mike stands and passed out.

“Let’s fuck off, said Larry. I stopped playing. He unplugged my guitar and shoved me through the window into the derelict garden outside. Bubbles, was quite a hefty, beefy fellow and he  kept the milling, fighting, falling, cursing, screaming crowd at bay while Larry and the drummer took out the drum set and the rest of the gear out of the window.

We gathered at Larry’s place just next door.

“Jolly good show, what man?” said Bubbles. “Yeah” said Larry and we all burst out laughing.

“What was that scrap all about?” I asked.

“Oh that,” said Larry quite matter-of-factly, “Old Scotty’s wife was dancing with the MC and he suddenly got jealous. Both were drunk and got into a fist fight.”

“Thought they were bum chums?” said Bubbles.

“They’re Anglo Indians,” said Larry as if it explained it all.