Fourplay in Mumbai

The kings of jazz descend on Mumbai and hold it spellbound

Sunday night. Al Jarreau, George Duke, Ravi Coltrane and Earl Klugh have joined forces before a glittering Gateway of India and an enthralled bunch of listeners (some of whom are are here to rattle their jewellery). The temperature has dipped (by Mumbai winter standards), or it just me and my goosebumps?

MTV emcee Nikhil Chinappa, given to exaggeration, is almost conservative when he says this is an evening we can tell our grandkids about. But I've been luckier than most. Hours before the performance, I've been able to pin them down for a chat. I'm still pinching myself.

"I studied rehabilitation counselling for my graduation in the late sixties, but felt I could do so much more with singing "" I've been singing since I was four," chuckles Al Jarreau, the only vocalist ever to have bagged Grammies in three separate categories (blues, jazz and pop).

But Jarreau loves meeting people, holding conversations with absolute strangers and baring his soul to them, to spend time counting his trophies. An Al Jarreau performance "" or conversation "" has echoes of his gospel influences, leaving one feeling cleansed. The therapeutic roots of counselling haven't left him after all.

"I'm a better rehab counsellor now than before," he says. But didn't his meanderings into 'lesser' genres, like pop, invite the wrath of puritans?

"You know," he says in his eloquent drawl, "jazz started waning out when guys stopped dancing. Earlier greats made jazz approachable, kept it simple, and though studied virtuosity is a great thing and has its own audience, I think every genre must make guys feel good and not stay stand-offish and heavy.

The essence is to strike the right chemistry between gymnastics and soul. I just sing what the hell I want to "" and my writing influences that range from Joni Mitchell to Bob Dylan help me communicate. The genre is not important."

A thought that songwriter, vocalist, producer and legendary keyboardist George Duke echoes. Duke's asociation with Jarreau began in the sixties in a nightclub in Los Angeles, where they first performed together, and Jarreau decided to quit his job and pursue singing as a career.

Sadly, though, both greats argue that in the business of jazz, it is the passion for bottomlines and not music that is dictating much of the stuff that's coming out nowadays.

Duke blames it on the corporatisation of music. "We aren't selling as much as we used to, for sure, and record companies squeeze on the margins all the more," he says.

Duke is lucky, he has his own record label, like fellow saxophonist Ravi Coltrane, which does enough to promote his work around the world.

"That's what music companies were formed for "" to spread awareness about an artist "" and the cycle is coming around. Indian musicians too, who I'm sure bear the brunt of lower margins, should remember that there is life beyond record companies," says Duke.

George Duke would carry CDs around with him after the launch of his music company, and was soon selling close to a thousand copies at every live concert. But "exclusive music stores will die a natural demise and music will move into convenience stores", Duke forecasts gloomily.

Sure, there are great labels like Blue Note records that produce only selective quality stuff and aren't bottomline obsessed. But by and large the demand for racier and more "negative" lyrics is killing uplifting music.

"There is too much hate in genres like gangster rap, and on the other hand there are great talents but not the commitment amidst jazz musicians. Everyone wants to perform from day one," says Jarreau.

"Frank Zappa made me sing when I wasn't comfortable with it, and told me how important it is to invest in myself. I don't see that kind of intensity in the talented young," adds George.

"Musicians have also become programmers," says Duke. "For Chrissake, stop sampling all the time and create something maan," he mutters, before he beams up another sample of his thousand-watt smile.

Sadly, CDs of the artistes are not being sold on Sunday. Before an enamoured audience that shouts back requests (which makes Duke go "maan..."), the jazz masters weave their eccentric geniuses to a crowd that sings back incomprehensible doo-doo-dee-bee-doos.

Earl Klugh's nylon string duet with Jarreau is the cherry on the icing as the evening breathes easy after the energy levels have been raised.

And to show they know to party hard, the closure for the evening is a blues ensemble where saxophone licks by Coltrane Jr rub sides with the preliminary bars set to chord by Jarreau's fervour.

And once the last vocal sigh is out and the fingers stop trembling, the notes continue to reverberate on, with the hope that this certainly isn't their last do in India.