What's a band supposed to do when a audience stands before it, hands folded, with a zombie glare on its face, pondering over the music? Unlike the chilled-out lot in Delhi and Bengaluru, Mumbai clubbers can terrify lesser-known bands with a drawn-out thawing time. lalitha suhasini gets behind the 'why' of what some call the sour-face phenonmenon, appealing for change
What's a band supposed to do when a audience stands before it, hands folded, with a zombie glare on its face, pondering over the music? Unlike the chilled-out lot in Delhi and Bengaluru, Mumbai clubbers can terrify lesser-known bands with a drawn-out thawing time. lalitha suhasini gets behind the 'why' of what some call the sour-face phenonmenon, appealing for changeUnleash that big, bellowing voice that's hiding inside you," beseeched Canadian indie rocker Tegan Quin, five songs into the fantastic 20-track acoustic set that she belted out with her identical twin Sara at Mumbai's Hard Rock Cafe two weeks ago. A crafty publicity set-up ensured that a sizeable audience attended the Tegan and Sara show.
Illustration/ Namrata Kumaru00a0
What the band didn't know was that for a Tuesday night, the crowd and the decibel level (of their cheering) were both impressive. Yet, nothing prepares a brand new band for the drawn-out thawing time that Mumbai audiences subject them to.
Edgy local acts, like say a Da Saz, a boundary-shunting percussion-driven mystic-influenced band from Delhi, have seen a disappointingly smaller turnout and more importantly, less a enthused audience at Mumbai's best live venueu00a0-- Blue Frog.
Talk to any experienced artist and you'll realise he is grappling with a sense of obligation mixed with relief that audiences no longer demand classic rock covers. Most event organisers are grateful for just the fact that people show up and are willing to pay to watch a gig. Clearly, they are far from wrapping their heads around the idea that the city's club-hopping audiences are inhibited, often mistaken for stuck-up, sour faces.
Mumbai-based artist booking agency Krunk's Sohail Arora says the attitude may have to do with the fact that the city has a highly aware and competitive music circuit. "It also depends on how a gig is promoted."
"Maybe it's because Mumbai is the entertainment capital and they don't want to give it to you so easily," reasons Suman Sridhar, vocalist and songwriter of the well-travelled Sridhar/Thayil (ST) group. Having said that, she she is happy that her group has reached out to a whole new audience in the cityu00a0-- theatre professionals, writers and visual artists, who showed up at ST's last show, and thoroughly enjoyed
themselves.
Sridhar attempts to get inside the regular Mumbai music lover's head. "Audiences in Pune and Delhi don't mind expressing themselves easily. Maybe because Bombay is cooler, audiences like to stand at the back and ponder over the music."
International bands face the brunt. Audiences who attended French funk-soul band Electro Deluxe gig at Blue Frog this September, took so long to warm up, that by the time a few members of the audience hit the floor, it was time for curtain call and the customary encore. This, despite the fact that its lead vocalist James Copley was more interactive than most, working the crowd with song history and humour.
In fact, at times, even though they turn up to support most gigs organised by their native Consulates, expats too, are uncharacteristically detached from a performance, given the vibe of those around them. And if it's a band from out of town, like say Delhi pop rock band, Faridkot that performed at Hard Rock Cafe (HRC) last month, the audience doesn't wake up unless they are dished out a Bollywood cover.
Bengaluru folk-rock band Swarathma played to a curious, yet lukewarm sit-down audience at an open-air venue at Bandra Reclamation at the Bandra festival last year. But the band that's performed over a dozen times in Mumbai, understands its pulse.
"The fact that Mumbai sees so many concerts, means that the city challenges us innovate, to keep our set fresh and exciting. Gaining the appreciation of the Mumbai audience is a great feeling," says the band's bassist Jishnu Dasgupta.
While clubs unsurprisingly defend themselves and their audiences, some artists suggest that the onus to win over an audience lies on the band. "Workshop had to work on the crowd hard at HRC because the stage is at a higher level and the audience seems detached from the band," says Sahil Makhija, lead vocalist of humour rock band Workshop and metal band Demonic Resurrection.
One of the best examples of an upcoming band gripping audiences across the country is the now defunct The Supersonics from Kolkata. Sure there were one or two calls out for a cover, but the band held its own. As for older bands, this is not the first time we've said itu00a0-- nobody works a crowd better than Pentagram's Vishal Dadlani.
Whether it's at a street-side performance, reaching out to audiences who have never heard them before or to 'stuffed shirts' as he called them at a semi-corporate gig at HRC, Dadlani will demand (never politely) that everybody get on their feet.
Some others feel clubs are not doing enough to promote every artist equally, and so, the not-so-well-known bands suffer. Says Blue Frog's Communications spokesperson Tina Kapur, "At Blue Frog, we unanimously feel that our audiences are totally integrated and very open to well-known as well as new talent."
Of course, there are smaller venues such as the newly-opened B69 in Andheri (E), and Bonobo, a Bandra hangout, that have just begun gaining recognition as music venues. Frequented by a niche that supports the non-mainstream music scene, they make up in spirit what they lack in ambience and acoustics. "Since India still has a fairly small audience base for music, recommendation and the buzz around a show work in its favour," says music publicist Neysa Mendes, who manages publicity for artists Karsh Kale and the Raghu Dixit Project.
Artist promotion, which is at a nascent stage in India, plays a key role in audience turnout. Take the case of the recent Dub FX concert at Blue Frog, that saw a packed house. The press had been low key about the Australian dubstep reggae street beatboxer. Granted, beatboxing has turned into a rage ever since Austrian beatboxers Bauchklang performed in India in 2008.
But just how did Dub FX, an internet phenomenon, catch on like fire in India? This was a publicity campaign that was pulled off creatively on Facebook. Six months prior to the artist's Mumbai show, videos were exchanged, online discussions cropped up and the buzz was in place. What turned into a viral campaign wasn't part of a strategy, assures Krunk's Arora, who is managing Dub FX on his India tour.
But going by the hysterical audience at the South Mumbai club last week, this may as well be the new, powerful route to drawing an audience. "Facebook and online promotions alone may not help. Clubs have to step in and market the artist; artist managers and promoters have to do their bit," says Arora.
Venues can help too. Sridhar suggests venues have a separate bar/dining and performance area like clubs in New York do, and not promote themselves as just dining venues.
"That way, we won't have to subject the dining audience to the show," she jokes. Until everyone else gets their act together, lose the inhibition and show a great band a good time, will you?
