n a good night, there are options. The Moonglows are playing
mellow at the 21st Century nightclub. On the other side of town, the Talismen are getting jittery at the Midway House. The facsimile poster on the door promises that the band is soft on a sweet melody, swift on a fast beat. But the crowd knows better. These guys are notorious hipswingers. Still, the scene will stay at a simmer today because its ladies night at the Discotheque. There, the Black Jacks are unleashing their Discorbit Jolt: a little jivin, a little rockin, a little twistin and a whole lotta lovin. And along the creek, Juliuss guitar snarls at the 007 Club while lights flicker at the Horseshoe Bar and Restaurant. This could be Las Vegas, New York or London. But this is Karachi in the swinging 1960s. This is the birth of cool. If Pakistani pop music has a history, Karachis quartets- at-clubs scene is it. Indeed, the pre-Zia decade in the city by the sea was a time of big bands, bopping beats and bobby-pinned beehives. At night clubs and private parties throughout the city, teenage Christian boys came together to play covers of western pop hits, experiment with progressive jazz and bite down, literally, on their guitar strings. Their antics were inspired by Radio T h e
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2 0 0 5 The pop legacy of Christian big bands from the swinging 1960s endures even today THE BIRTH THE BIRTH OF COOL FLASHBACK 1 Anglos with Afros: (left to right) Talismen members Norman DSouza, Colin DSouza, Charlie DSouza and Popart Lal By Huma Yusuf How times have changed: Dominic Gonzales playing in a hotel lobby F a h i m
S i d d i q i They treated us good, says Norman. The Punjab wasnt immune to the jumping and jiving either, as bands such as the Wanderers hit the big time in Lahore: The Wanderers ruled. They enjoyed real rock star treatment and were real gurus, exclaims EPs drummer Salman Albert. Better yet, this pop circuit was sanctioned by the authorities and media alike. With regards to Christian bands playing live at the Pak-American Cultural Centre, The Morning News wrote on January 27, 1968, that the gig was the best example of pop music nurtured locally without psycholic stimulant no LSD please. No wonder then that Pakistans pop stars of the 1980s drew their inspiration from the Anglos with Afros. Norman, for one, remembers cavorting with Ahmed Rushdi and proudly announces that Alamgir was a big fan of the In Crowd, a band formed in 1969. Alamgir used to follow the In Crowds shows in the hotels but he first jammed with them at the Horseshoe Bar, says Norman. Thus thriving in a media void, playing live to fans each weekend, Karachis Christian bands felt no need to promote or preserve their music. After a hip-shaking, neck-jerking frenzied play-off at the 21 st Century in 1971, Normans band was offered a recording contract with EMI. Surprisingly, they declined the offer. We just werent interested. We didnt want to play on television and we didnt want to record. None of it paid off. All we wanted to do was play live. It was the singing and dancing that mattered, explains Norman. While not all Christian musicians shared Normans viewpoint, most were unable to record sessions even though they wanted to. The 1960s was a pre-cassette era and recording was prohibitively expensive for most performers. We always knew how to compose but the Christians didnt get a chance because they had no money, complains saxophonist Hilary. Not only was the system of recording terrible recording live drums was next to impossible but we also couldnt afford to rent the right studio or hire a producer. Nooris current drummer Gumby adds that musicians such as Alamgirs backup saxophonist Dominic Gonzales couldnt become famous because a music video cost 50,000 rupees just to air in the late 1970s, let alone produce. Moreover, early appearances on Pakistan Television (PTV) could not charm the big bands. Accustomed to earning about 500 rupees a month while playing the nightclub circuit a significant amount in the late 1960s band leaders were not willing to sign contracts with PTV that promised a mere 150 rupees for each appearance. PTV would call us without warning. We had to play live, using our own equipment, without the help of sound sets or play-back facilities, remembers Norman. Without having made inroads in television or snagged recording contracts, Karachis swing bands were suddenly out of context when Zia shut down nightclubs and slapped a ban on all things intoxicating in 1977. Overnight, live music in Pakistan became an anomaly and Christian musicians were left without a job. Rather than being an entertainment industry, Pakistani pop became the plaything of sleazy producers looking to make a fast buck. As Fuzons lead guitarist Shallum Xavier puts it, by the time I had grown up, everyone from the band circuit had either died or migrated. It was the death of a whole scene. While the majority of Christian musicians migrated to the US, UK, Canada and even eastwards to Japan, Singapore or Malaysia, those that remained experienced a crushing fall from grace. Hilary found himself teaching music at a high school while playing backup sax for Mohammad Ali Shayki. For his part, Norman briefly served as a waiter at the Holiday Inn Hotel before returning to music and trying his hand at singing in Urdu. Of course, there were some notable exceptions. In 1983, the Benjamin Sisters scored well by performing popish remixes of old Noor Jehan hits on PTV. It was very nice singing together and touring in Canada and Singapore, says Bina Benjamin. The eldest sister Nerissa was even forced to move out of her home for a month after acquiring a stalker from Hyderabad. But Hilary paints a more accurate picture when he laments that the Christians struggled a lot in the 1980s and some guys just never made it. Now, Hilary is working on the soundtracks of various television dramas 2 T h e
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2 0 0 5 Pakistans daily broadcast by DJ Edward Carrapiet of English twist- and-shout numbers. And the bands performances often prompted swingers from East Pakistan to fly to Karachi just to party for the weekend. Seasoned saxophonist Hilary Furtado remembers that the scene in the 1960s and 1970s used to be very good. Everyone played live, they didnt need computers back then. Similarly, Talismen band leader Norman DSouza recalls singing to crowds of up to 1,000 jivers on New Years Eve: We werent a rich bunch so we sang without mikes. We used to yell our guts out but everyone had a good time. They just kept dancing. Even gigs in the lobbies of local five-star hotels had panache back then. Wed play Santana all night and then the hotel would send us breakfast in bed in the morning. Swinging sixties: the Talismen perform at a Christmas party Teddy boy: Norman DSouza boasting a solid Sunday school training and inherent musicality still get their groove on more than most. Former Talismen member Malcolm Govias, and later Gumby, drummed for Junoon. Currently, Gumby is the sticks-man for Noori. Meanwhile, Fuzon boasts Shallum and bassist Russell whose stint in the live band circuit paid off well in their line-up. Allan Smith, who played briefly with Norman as an adolescent, is now drumming for Karvan while EPs Salman Albert was trained by the Wanderers Noel Benjamin. Pakistans only jazzy outfit the Mekaal Hasan Band boasts the Christian-influenced talents of Salmans brother Farhan Albert as well as Mekaal himself. Even Pakistans undisputed guitar virtuoso Aamir Zaki seduced his guitar strings under the tutelage of Alan Vanderlovin and Alan Dias. The list is endless. As are the possibilities. Anyone who thought and recently did a jingle for a mobile phone company. Norman has formed a new band that plays the odd gig at private parties or at the Sunset Club. Band members confined to playing in hotel lobbies complain that the management has lost all respect for Christian musicians. Apparently, hotels scrimp on the food served to musicians and pay a band comprising five musicians a mere 40,000 or 50,000 rupees a month. Meanwhile, millennium pop stars such as guitarist Shallum claim that the only lesson theyve learnt from the pioneers of pop is to avoid the same fate: Seeing talented Christian musicians play in hotels is quite a sorry sight. I didnt want my music to be restricted to a lobby with people coming and going as they pleased. I believed that I could be part of something bigger a rock band. But the more things change, the more they stay the same. Even after Zia, Christian musicians have struggled for recognition. In 1992, Candi Pereira, Allan Smith and John Sullivan, the son of former In Crowd member Edgar, came together with several other aspiring musicians to form the Milestones. But no one really gave the Milestones the recognition they deserved. We worked really hard to get our name out there but you need really good connections in the music industry to survive, admits Candi. Moreover, Gumby believes that fewer Christian musicians will be joining the music scene in the future: My community is producing less musicians because people think its sad to play at weddings and in hotels. Theyve lost the essence of music. Hilary concurs, adding that since DJs are much cheaper, the live band culture is dying out even at Christian weddings. No one has the time or money for a band now. Still, it would be foolish to assume that Pakistans snazziest entertainers have such a pathetic legacy. Just take a look at the bigwigs of the present- day pop industry. Wherever there is a glimmer of talent, theres bound to be some influence from the Goan guitarists of yesteryear. And Christians 3 T h e
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2 0 0 5 Sibling power: the Benjamin Sisters Seasoned saxophonist: Hilary Furtado F a h i m
S i d d i q i fans a catchy moniker, retro hairstyle, fondness for expletives, wizard- like facility with his sticks and the knack to keep time Gumby is a virtuoso in the world of Paki pop. Of course, looking at him, youd never guess that hes a drumming dynamo. Although 28, Gumby could easily pass for 15. He rarely wears anything other than faded jeans with an out-of-shape grey or white T- shirt to mask his short, lanky frame. In profile, an uncorrected overbite is discernible. But despite his appearance, Gumby exudes an obvious dont- piss-me-off-Im-volatile aura. And its that attitude that gave him the courage to quit drumming with Junoon when the group was at the height of stardom. But all that comes much later. It goes without saying that no drum rolls announced Gumbys emergence on the local music scene. Like many musicians from the Christian community, the drummer has had to struggle long and hard to make it big. My environment was always musical and musicians were seen as something great. At weddings, live Christian jazz bands would look grand. And they really knew how to get people dancing, remembers Gumby. And so it was that five-year-old Louis John Pinto already rechristened Gumby by a neighbour began imitating the cool guys he saw wooing the crowds at parties and weddings. Until 1986, when Gumby bought his first drum-kit, he used to observe drummers on stage and later drum out a beat with his fingers on the kitchen table while his mother sang along. I wanted to be a drummer because I enjoy casual flirting, it keeps me busy. With an unapologetic arrogance, Gumby describes the perks of recent fame. Suddenly, his cellphone rings. On the other end is Gumbys loyal roadie and bodyguard of over six years who may be delayed in collecting his boss. If it seems strange that Gumby has a bodyguard, think of it this way: hes the only musician in the circuit to boast an imported, custom-made drum-kit worth over 600,000 rupees. More importantly, hes one of few session musicians to have transcended the anonymity-on-stage conundrum faced by those who dont have the face or flair to be a lead vocalist. But make no mistake: Gumby is a legend in his own right. Boasting all the right ingredients to woo By Huma Yusuf Drumming PROFILE Drumming live performances using shoddy sound sets and erratic mikes were not doing justice to his drumming. There I was playing my heart out on a custom-made drum-kit and all around me, mikes kept falling, he complains. But his decision to play exclusively for recording sessions was not meant to last. In 2003, Gumby replaced Nooris first drummer and found himself in a happy place within the big bad world of desi pop. Ali Noor is a very talented musician and I think his work is moving in the right direction, says Gumby. Moreover, he is thrilled to be part of a politics- free band. Egos get inflated in this business, well, at least mine did. For that reason, Gumby appreciates the fact that Ali Noor treats him not only as a band mate but also as a member of his family: Noors parents treat me like a third son. Although Noori is currently putting out their second album, Gumby has far more ambitious plans. Ive played lots of solos and now I know what drums are capable of, how they should be tuned and how important placement is. Thats why I would ultimately like to manufacture drums and really push the limits of the instrument. Until then, you can count on Gumby turning the beat around for local pop. n drums were loud and visually happening, explains Gumby half-seriously. Copycat drumming paid off and by the time Gumby was 14 years old, he was a regular in the Christian wedding circuit. One day, his friend Bosco invited him to jam with a mysterious Zak. Without any preparation, Gumby turned up for the gig, only to find himself playing with the legendary Aamir Zaki along with a slew of pop stars. There and then, Gumbys gradual transition into mainstream professional drumming began. Initially, in a throw-back to the live band culture of his communitys preceding generation, Gumby spent two years drumming in the lobby of the Sheraton Hotel in Karachi. Those were the most productive years of my life, insists Gumby. Not only did he acquire his first fan following among late-night ice-cream addicts but Gumby also refined his drumming technique by playing live, night after night, to a discerning crowd. In that lobby, I picked up jazz, learned how to control the volume of my drumming and play to an audience. No wonder then, Gumby now feels entitled to scoff at musicians who havent slaved as he has. Music now is too calculated and its all about money making. You have to learn the hard way, you have to play to make a living and really put your heart into it before youre any good. Unfortunately, playing backup drums for Pakistans leading groups such as Awaz and Junoon in the 1990s didnt deliver instant fame and fortune to Gumbys doorstep. It has been very frustrating being a drummer. Theres no fame or recognition because everyone wants to keep you in the back seat, complains Gumby almost bitterly. And then there was the added problem of latent racism: There is racism in our society, I can tell people often think that yeh to marasi hai. Still, on the several occasions that Awaz did not introduce Gumby in concert, he chose not to confront them: Back then, I was really dumb. But after Gumbys performance in an international concert for Channel V went unaccredited, he realised he had to be more aggressive. I decided then to shine bright on stage. Now, Gumby shamelessly enjoys the power trip that comes from knowing that he can throw off an entire band by mistiming only one drumbeat and he doesnt hesitate to remind others of that fact. This self-confidence eventually led to Gumby quitting from Junoon despite making a lot of money doing gigs for the band around the world. I started hating live performances and so I just left, he says matter-of- factly. As it happens, Gumby was particularly perturbed by the fact that 5 T h e