Thursday, April 28, 2011

THE BEAUTY OF RAWNESS

It's a debate I'd been trying to argue with myself about. Raw or refined? Which of these do we prefer? Which is to say - which do we say we prefer, and which do we actually prefer?

Come on, it's not like you haven't been victim to it.

Sure, you like Test cricket. Who wants to appear cool on Twitter in their right mind doesn't? Talking about Rahul Dravid's 148 is the 'in'-thing in this age of slam-bam-thank-you-DLF cricket, it's all the rage to talk about Laxmanian beauty and Waughesque elegance. Equal contest between bat and ball is where it's all at. No?

Why, then, are you willing that unknown batsman to score a six off every delivery? Why do you want Manbeast to race to a century off 25 deliveries? Are you telling me that when you see the score in an ODI being 100/0 off 8 overs, you do NOT have visions and heck, even dreams, of the batting team scoring 500? And when the opener gets out for 86 off 32 deliveries, you feel a sense of Awwwwfuck!-edness, even though  externally you'll proclaim that you're happy normalcy has been restored?

Like George Carlin said, "Get outta here". You love sin as much as anyone. You may say you're on a diet, eating sprouts and drinking grapefruit juice, and saying to the world you're happy about it. Balls. You fantasize about Snickers and fried chicken (not KFC, that's just crap) all the time.

Rawness. It's there in all of us.

It was something I thought I lost after coming to Mumbai, attending gigs in hep places like Blue Frog. Here, you had to portray the image of being knowledgeable. You felt almost shameful sneaking in before 9 PM and not ordering anything, standing around reading articles on your phone, while bills of five digits were being racked up around you, and you knew for a fact that the waiters were sneering at you behind your backs. Band comes on. Polite headbobbing. A few \m/ signs if things were really kickass. Mild jumping. But heck, the place is nice and air-conditioned. It didn't feel like you'd just been through a draining concert. Also, you score style points if you have a huge camera. The bigger the better. Camera that is.

And then, something like B69 happens. To be precise, a Zero gig happens at B69. On a Saturday.
If you were expecting comfort, I'm sorry.

After goodness knows how long, I could feel sweat even though I wasn't really moving too much. Suddenly, having a Nikon D5000 meant nothing. Because you could hardly see the band anyway (flat surface) and hence, you couldn't show off your gear either. Not that anyone really gave a damn. Because they were jumping around and screaming.

It'd been 4 years since I'd done something like that. Ever since I was just too protective of expensive phones, cameras and various other paraphernalia on my person to actually enjoy myself.

Zero came on. The usual set of tracks followed. I could spot the usual bunch of madmen, who were all gearing up. Something had to give.  It was itching, really. The lead up to PSP 12", their most famous track, was agonizing. Like you could feel Sachin just winding up to thrash Kasprowicz out of the park.

Bassline kicks in.
I knew it was time. I'd probably never get this chance again.

Warren plays the arrpegio.
I threw my gear to the side where friends would take care of it, kept the glasses safely in my pocket.

"If I had the time to stay here all night".
I navigated my way through the barricade. Got right in, as it were. High-fived a couple of people who I knew were usual participants in such events.

"If I had my way... Then I wouldn't hear you say..."
I was holding onto people who I didn't know. They didn't care. We were all one.

"Ah, ah, ah, aaah!"
This is it. This is it. Get ready.

"Standingbystandingbystandingby...."
FUCK! This is madness! Jumping up and down like I've never done! Screaming the two words that make up the entire chorus. Ramming into people. Throwing an absolute stranger into someone else because he asked me to.

2.5 minutes later, it was over. I was hoarse. I was sweating. Hands on the shoulders of fellow Zeroheads. No idea who they were. Didn't matter.

Took me a while to recover, it did.

That was raw. It was beautiful. There's something about gigs like this.

3 comments:

Atrisa said...

haha! You said Arpeggio :P

Neo said...

Dude, ever since I bought my camera, it's meant that I have to carry it for any event I am attending. For gigs like you said, it hampers the experience of being at a gig.
For me that changed when Prodigy came to town. For the first time I decided that I am not going to be standing off in the side trying to avoid being jumped on, taking pictures. And while there was no moshing, it was still an exhilarating experience just to jump like a mad man without caring about anything or anyone. Well I had to lest I trample someone. :D
You have described the experience better than I remember it, so kudos! :)

The Talisman said...

Rang bhavan :(. None of this b69 shit.