Tegan, Sara and all the other in-betweeners

There are some vocations that are constructive. There are some are degenerative. Some exhausting and some mindless. Then there are those that make the mind wander. Music, like writing, is one such vocation. One could argue that it isn’t a vocation, but to me it seems to fall into that box in my mind.

I remember when I was 12, hearing people say how much music had changed their lives. The only music I paid any mind to (courtesy my parents) was old Bollywood, and generally Kishore Kumar. Padosan (1968) on a tape would play louder and louder as I danced my way through our small house’s joint bedroom. And then I heard about life changing. I didn’t pay it any mind, till one day I found myself tuning into Grey’s Anatomy. Not the kind of show I watched regularly, the male lead tweaked my interest. It was there that I discovered the power of a soundtrack. Songs would influence my mood, they would force me to feel and listen to their lyrics and I found myself wanting to know more about the songs than the show.

Tegan and Sara, Ivy, The Ditty Bops, Jem all of them were names I hadn’t even seen on TV. I had heard the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears off and on but none of these really featured anywhere the public around me looked. And I liked that. That was where my journey with alternate music started.  The inbetweeners. I didn’t even realise it. I didn’t realise that this would start a new chapter in my life. I started listening to a variety of music. Rock, pop, jazz, you name it; I heard some part of it. I always came back to the inbetweeners of course, they were my people. They talked to me, taught me and walked me and somewhere along the lines, introduced me to a movie genre independent of mega publicity.

What I’m most thankful for however is the extent which the inbetweeners have stayed with me. Even today, when I’m unemployed and lonely, I can always play Ingrid Michaelson’s Turn to Stone and cheer myself up. And with the tempo of numbers like Super Cool by Bang Sugar Bang, it was hard to get any sleep. Needless to say, there were a lot of things in my life that managed to attach themselves to one song by Dee or another by Joe Purdy.

Another benefit I realise now was the inbetweeners lead me down an interesting road of alternative music closer to home. Listening to them made me curious about what my country had in store for me. Being the old Bollywood fan I was, and the frequent ghazals and Bhimsen Joshi that played in-and-around my home, I knew Indian musicians had an innate appreciation of a variety of instruments. So I started looking around. And did I find what I was looking for. From Zeb and Haniya to the Midival Punditz, I was amazed by the variety and interpretation young India was upto.

Whether it was a rainy afternoon or a morning pick me up, my computer stayed open and blaring, much to my parents’ dissatisfaction.  What was amusing through all of this was the fact that while the music developed rapidly, the kind of music emerging stayed consistent in quality. Whether it was through the show or some other means of listening to a new song or artist, the kind of music being created was enriching and new; and best of all, the lyrics moved you. These songs talked about their singers and what life meant to each one. Much better than a stripper pole and how a stripper stripped on it.