Normally, on AI, I only post Music. We’ve never had a post that has not talked about a song, or an album, or a band. But this will be an exception. Sort of.
It will talk about a man, and me. Although, I admit, I didn’t know him personally. Of course, the man had something to do with Music – that’s why it’s on AI. He was a musician, part of a band. But that was not his claim to fame. His connection to Music, the reason that made him famous, kind of, was his love of Music. Sort of like me. Though I am not famous or anything. But he was. With a handful. A handful of people who loved Music. Music that took risks, that broke boundaries, that resonated with pain, hope, love, hunger, hurt, anger, humour.
Amit Saigal met with a sudden, unfortunate end last week and this little post in this little blog is the least I can do to repay the great debt that I owe him.
Amit started the Rock Street Journal in India in 1993 (or was it 1994?). Their first issue was a bareboned newsletter-ish affair that started a revolution in the Indian Rock scene. For the very first time in India there was a magazine for us which talked about the Music that meant so much to us. It spoke about bands, albums, Music that mattered to us. It even featured those obscure, underground bands from different parts of the country which actually played this Music for a living (well, almost – they did have their day jobs I’m sure – Rock in India didn’t really pay – and I am not sure that it does, even now). I picked up their second issue (which had a cover for the first time and it covered a glam rock band from Bombay whose album was titled ‘Glam Bam, Thank you Ma’m!’, if my memory serves me right!) from a streetside magazine stall one unexpected evening and my life was never the same again. I hated the name. But I was mad about the magazine. I became a subscriber soon after and was shocked to be seen addressed as Ms. So-and-so – my name is really a girl’s name outside of the community I belong to!
The journey began and I can recall some of the milestones – both personal and for the magazine. Their list of 100 greatest albums of all time became the list of Music that I aspired to listen to before I die. (Amit, I think I may have finally heard all 100!) I still had the list with me until a few years back but finally lost it in one of my many house moves. And I still remember their first big interview – they had caught hold of poor Phil Collen (Def Leppard) in some airport while he was on a personal holiday in India and forced upon him some of the most innocent questions ever asked of a rock star! Then when they started printing centrespreads and posters I wallpapered my room till I had no more room and secretly begged them to stop because I couldn’t bear to choose favourites (tear one down to make room for another!). I also remember the darkest hour when the very uncool Rock Street Journal suddenly decided to become the very hip RSJ and suddenly there was so much more of things that I didn’t want to see and so much less of things I did want to see. That’s when I decided to break-up, Amit, because I just couldn’t handle the new ‘you’! I stopped my subscription and I never did really buy another copy of RSJ after that. But I did buy a few of their CDs much later. Which brings me to the greatest milestone of RSJ ever – The Great Indian Rock.
This was Amit’s greatest contribution to Indian Rock. The Great Indian Rock was an annual compilation (and followed by a concert in later years) which gave the best Indian bands an opportunity to do something beyond covers of Western Rock legends. It gave them a platform to showcase their own songwriting skills and became an eagerly awaited event every year. Parikrama, Orange Street, Chandrani Banerjee, Lou Majaw, Thermal & A Quarter, Rough Road, Phynyx, Zero started playing on my mixtapes next to Floyd, LedZep, Joni Mitchell, Dylan, Steely Dan, Scorpions, Tull and the rest. Those annual volumes were among my cherished possessions all these years and in recent times I converted them to the digital medium from their magnetic tapes. I have shared them here on AI with you guys and it has been my privilege to have become a miniscule part of the heritage of The Great Indian Rock.
“So what is the big deal? So this guy published the only magazine on Rock in India, gave some exposure to Indian Rock bands and made some money in the process. What is the ‘great debt’ that you talk of?”, you may ask. The great debt is this – without Amit Saigal, there would not have been a Rock Street Journal and Great Indian Rock, and without those two there would not have been an Amabilis Insania. Sure I liked Music and would have been an avid listener all my life. But without their stories about classic bands and reviews of classic albums and interviews of classic musicians, without their top 100 list, without their annual compilations I would never have ventured into so much of Music and never had fallen in love with Music so passionately that it became one of the central drivers of my otherwise absurd and meaningless life.
And because of that, Amit, you will always stay in a special niche, a sacred corner in my memories. R.I.P.
(Photo courtesy Piyush Abhay Singh)
(I may have made some factual errors in dates etc. in these beer-fuelled reminiscences. For that I ask for your forgiveness. Please correct me in the comments.)
