Dylan and the times
The weekend was cool. Like every single one, it was short lived. Its actualy when you decide to do something, you realise its damn monday morning again. Went to Haze, the small pub, in VV to listen to the grandfather of Indian Rock, Lou Majaw. He was actually playing solo paying a tribute to Bobby Dhillon (Bob Dylan).
Surprisingly, I found a whole lot bunch that knew his song well, even to the chord change of it. Had a couple of beers, sittin on a table with one of the big shot editor's son and probably the kids chick. They seemed like a good sort of people to hangout for a drunken hot Sunday afternoon. The guy was Dylan fan, so we got to trade few pointers.
Harry's dad and the old folks were also there. There like this music craving bunch of middle aged guys who know how to appreciate their drinks and at the same time their music. The owner, whose now become friends of sort, is a blues maniac him self. So it all turned out cooler than expected.
I realised that when you sleep after a few beers you get to embrace a wonderful sleep. A sleep that will sail you to the stars and back without the necessary oxygen tank and the dress code. You even get to meet pretty eyed fairies and sailors that have lost their way on ancient forgotten ships. But that's a different story.
The neighbour coulnd't turn up, he was more or less grounded for participating in all sort of behaviours that good minded folks would disagree.
Dylan is in my head, I really like the music he plays. But you know what, for all I care, the guys music will be forgotten in a couple of years. What will be playing in most retro places in Delhi will be Backstreet Boys and Boys 2 Men, cause you know people will shake there heads and say "that's how the music used to be in our times."
Damn, I wish I'd die to see that day.
The weekend was cool. Like every single one, it was short lived. Its actualy when you decide to do something, you realise its damn monday morning again. Went to Haze, the small pub, in VV to listen to the grandfather of Indian Rock, Lou Majaw. He was actually playing solo paying a tribute to Bobby Dhillon (Bob Dylan).
Surprisingly, I found a whole lot bunch that knew his song well, even to the chord change of it. Had a couple of beers, sittin on a table with one of the big shot editor's son and probably the kids chick. They seemed like a good sort of people to hangout for a drunken hot Sunday afternoon. The guy was Dylan fan, so we got to trade few pointers.
Harry's dad and the old folks were also there. There like this music craving bunch of middle aged guys who know how to appreciate their drinks and at the same time their music. The owner, whose now become friends of sort, is a blues maniac him self. So it all turned out cooler than expected.
I realised that when you sleep after a few beers you get to embrace a wonderful sleep. A sleep that will sail you to the stars and back without the necessary oxygen tank and the dress code. You even get to meet pretty eyed fairies and sailors that have lost their way on ancient forgotten ships. But that's a different story.
The neighbour coulnd't turn up, he was more or less grounded for participating in all sort of behaviours that good minded folks would disagree.
Dylan is in my head, I really like the music he plays. But you know what, for all I care, the guys music will be forgotten in a couple of years. What will be playing in most retro places in Delhi will be Backstreet Boys and Boys 2 Men, cause you know people will shake there heads and say "that's how the music used to be in our times."
Damn, I wish I'd die to see that day.
posted by jairaj at Monday, August 28, 2006
3 Comments:
well my frnd i think one can conveniently forsee Dylon making it(somehow) to all those retro places bcoz ohnestly the chances of theese bland and terribly nonsensical boy bands making it are pretty grim, if not so awfull.the only thing that scares me shitless is mr. nasal twanger offering to do free gigs on dylan nights. he he...they say anything can happen but personally i wish I,de die to see that walla day.
You could bet on that. The day Sir Himesh is declared the Elvis (or Dylan with that nasal twang) of Indian Pop (which is not that unimaginable), it'll be a death to feel. Dylan will make it but only through a narrow street, where they'll be the right people cheering. Cheers!
hmm...'right people'..me thinking that is so god damn much better.
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