For rock, with love

Amit Saigal has banged his head over the Great Indian Rock show for 10 years, and not for nothing.

"Thanks for being Amit Saigal, Amit Saigal."
"" Jottings on the website of Freak Kitchen, a rock band from Sweden

It was Headbangers' Sunday. At New Delhi's Hamsadhwani theatre in Pragati Maidan, in the midst of the wail of electric guitars entwined with the rhythm of rocking heads, 18 bands were doing exactly what Freak Kitchen had done on its website; thanking Amit Saigal for making rock music a possibility in India.

Why?
Simple, because rock is not a possibility in the land of calm.

Not yet, anyway. The three-day show that has just concluded (the Mumbai leg will happen on February 25, 2006) might have been "boring" according to some spectators, but for India's aspiring and often forlorn rock artistes, Great Indian Rock (GIR) show remains the only platform that lets them have a go at your eardrums (and sense of calm).

Now in its 10th year, the annual rock concert was conceived by Saigal, the prime mover of Rock Street Journal (RSJ, India's first rock music magazine) that he launched in 1993 while handling his family printing business in Allahabad.

"I started a magazine for the love of rock music," says Saigal, adding, "... and realised how tough it was." He actually had to haul copies around to campuses just to elicit some interest. "We ended up giving free copies to everyone," he smiles.

But magazine martyrdom, in the world of rock, is not martyrdom enough. This is, after all, an audio experience. Thus, GIR. "I knew a lot of musicians were not doing originals because no one was encouraging them," he says, referring to the chief criticism levelled against Indian rock bands "" that they are good for no more than college-fest cover versions of rock classics.

Saigal, convinced of the potential, started urging them to compose originals, and in 1995, gave away copies of the first GIR compilation album free with RSJ.

Did he make any money? Of course not. He ended up staring at nearly Rs 6-7 lakh in dripping red. "Whatever I'd invested, I lost," he recalls. It's true. As a colleague who had earlier worked with him testifies, "I asked him to pay my salary and he asked me to take his mobike instead. He couldn't afford anything more then."

Then there are stories of a well-known rock band that vowed never to perform at GIR after Saigal failed to pay up before it went on stage.

Fiscal sense has dawned since: sustaining rock interest in India is about turning it commercially viable. This is where brand sponsorships make the difference, to Saigal's relief. "We have more sponsorships, we hold ticketed shows and perform to nearly 7,000-strong audiences."

At long last, the effort seems likely to come good. "There are very few shows that help the cause of rock music in India," says Subir Malik, Parikrama's guitarist, "and GIR is one of them. It is a fabulous platform."

For all that, critics would argue that Indian rock is still searching for an authentic voice "" and in the rare instances that it does vibe with the local idiom, it is Hindi cinema that grabs the sound for its own propagation.

The band Euphoria has survived on edging towards a rather more mellifluous sound. Can others escape being co-opted by Bollywood's demand dynamics in their search for broader relevance and appeal?

Anirban, member of Orange Street, shrugs. "This is our own rock fest," he says, possessively, "and the idea is really to enjoy and let your hair down." Sponsor-willing.