When Roger Waters came to Bangalore, I had semester exams. When Rolling Stones performed here, I had my internal reviews at college. Just before Sting graced this city, I discovered Sixties garage rock and free downloads through Kazaa to give him a second thought.
Hard rock dinosaurs Deep Purple put on a concert at Cathedral Grounds in Bangalore sometime last year. Amidst brooding excitement we purchased tickets a week before the concert. As the week drudged along, we realized that we never did like Deep Purple. Adrenaline sometimes accompanied Highway Star. We liked Hush and we are certain that Space Truckin’ kicks ass. But we were either ignorant or wary of the other stuff Deep Purple has been putting out there over the years. So what the hell were we doing here? As soon as we entered the arena, answers to such questions exhausted themselves.
It was a cold night. The mind was far from sobriety. Far, far away. The opening band were as metrosexual as light pink shirts. But their brand of rock and roll was sort of entertaining. Chilli Peppers and AC/DC were covered with a bit of style. The crowd was bad. Awful even. Every one and their third cousin were waiting for the familiar riff that kickstarts Smoke on the Water. A couple of in-bred morons even started a “We want Metallica” chant. What we wanted was quiet appreciation. And what we really didn’t want was what we ended up with. A crowded spot near the speakers.
Two hours later, I was still unsatisfied. Headbanging seemed out of place. Moshing bordered along the lines of frivolity. I hadn’t felt so vacant at a rock concert since some silly band from Delhi covered Europe’s Final Countdown at IIT Sarang, 2001.
Ian Gillan and Steve Morse looked older than Walt Disney’s grandparents. They tried. They really did, but these dinosaurs could muster up all but energy. Then the dam riff started. Ten ten ten…ten ten…ten ten…ten ten ten…ten ten. We grabbed our jackets and ran towards the exit.
If music be food fit for kings, then this kingdom just collapsed under the weight of its own eagerness to rinse and repeat.
