Diving into the Ocean.
Indian Ocean‘s Melancholic Ecstasy reminds me of a long car-drive from Panaji to Mumbai.
I was a bonafide student of REC Warangal then, for three whole weeks. However, the admission procedure was followed by the announcement that classes would begin a month later, and I took off to my uncle’s place in Goa. Ah! Three weeks of pure bliss. No thoughts about the upcoming tryst with seniors ( they had asked me to get a bottle of Feni, and I was thinking of the best walkaround ), playing around with my uncle’s new Pentium ( The only thing I could use with confidence was MSPaint) and of course, hanging around Panjim.
And one fine day, I found Indian Ocean. The album. The first album. And as I keep reminding everyone around me, I found it in a freakin’ Paan shop. I had heard Desert Rain before, but had never got around to buying it. I also found a hardcover copy of Stephen King’s Tommyknockers and three copies of Sandman#50 and coaxed my aunt to buy them for me.
That was the afternoon I was going to leave Goa and come back to Warangal. I had decided on the official story about the Feni I was supposed to bring back ( “Uhhh, Udattada, I had bought a bottle for you guys, but my aunt was packing my suitcase and she found it hidden under my Jeans. She threw it away.” ) and I was aware of the fact that, yes, this was it, this was where I Boldly ride into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell. (that was the general opinion about REC seniors )When I bought the cassette, it was a welcome diversion from thinking about …er…you-know-what. So I explained to my uncle, in very deep detail, what a great band Indian Ocean was, and how Desert Rain really blew my mind and stuff like that. He got exasperated after a while ( any driver would, I guess, when he’s got two kids, my cousins, hollering in the back and a naive nephew going on about a band ), so he said – “Why don’t you put the cassette inside the deck, so that we can all listen to it?”
Oh no, I thought. What if he listens to a track of just guitar and tabla and says something stupid like “Where are the songs?” What if my cousins hate it and start screaming louder? What if the cassette contains a different cassette altogether, like Raja Babu or something? Yeah, I was that paranoid even then.
So I gingerly push the tape in. And Village Damsel starts off, with a bass track that’s joined by the guitar, and then the tabla and the drums. A few minutes later, my uncle is smiling to himself, tapping on his steering wheel. My cousins, both of them, are quiet. My aunt, who has been sitting quietly all along, says – “This is good.” Winding roads, villages, pass us by. My worries disappear. By the time it’s ten, and we pull into some hotel, I realise that we’ve been listening to the tape for about 3 hours ( auto-continue )
The next morning, just before I am about to board the train, my uncle says something like “Why don’t I pay you , so you can buy the tape at Hyderabad, and I keep this one?”
I believe that was one of the situations I have handled very diplomatically in my life. I didn’t know how rare the cassette was, or whether I would get it in Hyderabad or not, but no way I would let it out of my site. I gave my uncle the exact details of which paan shop I got it from, and also that I saw two more copies of the tape. For good measure, I also pointed out that I wouldn’t be coming to Hyderabad for quite a long time, it being the Senior-Junior Interaction season in REC, after all.
Whew.
Of course, I didn’t see the cassette again at any shop. No one else I knew did, either. I used to keep getting worried about the tape being spoiled, and always kept hoping that HMV would re-release it. But those short-sighted corporate morons just didn’t seem to care. Kandisa came, blew me away. At least more people knew about Indian Ocean now. I passed out of REC, joined this company, and carried out my first, and only e-transaction, opting to buy a cd of Desert Rain for 400 rupees. ( I learnt two months later that Kosmic music was re-releasing the album and selling it for 200 rupees only, but I didn’t mind. the one I got was a classic Indie-label album)
This Tuesday, I went to Lifestyle music world, just to scope out the new stuff. The rock section was in pathetic condition, so I decided to check out the New-Age/Instrumental section.
And it was there. HMV’s reissue of the first Indian Ocean album. For only 99 Rupees.
“Hallelujah!” was the only thing I could think of saying then. The rest of the stuff ( this stuff ) came later.
Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
– G. K. Chesterton
It’s been raining the past couple of days. A steady drizzle that does not seem to stop. During the daytime, secure in an air-conditioned office, that’s not too much of a bother. By night, though, things are different. I have to take an auto to my place, even though it’s only a ten-minute walk away. I have an umbrella, and it’s pretty much working, but I can’t just stand getting my feet wet. And then when I come home, the house smells of damp clothes. The floor feels cold, when I have taken off my shoes. Mosquitoes seem to follow Agent Smith’s tenets ( go forth and replicate, the punctuation-ignoring Agent’s Bible says ), especially when there’s a powercut. Even my ancient cell-phone seems to be acting up with the weather, it’s visuals go blank if I leave it in the cold for a night. So the past two nights I have been keeping it snug under the blanket. Another bad thing about the rain is that I can’t go out ( as is my usual habit) to the neatest grocery store to buy some popcorn when I feel like seeing a movie.
I read the Spawn comic-book lot in a night. Smiling all the while. God! I had longed for lusted after Spawn comics so much once upon a time…cursing Guwahati and its bookshop owners who would bring all the second-rate Image titles like Brigade and Cyberforce and New Men, but not Spawn. Every comic-book catalogue was raving about how good Spawn was, the cool characters, the cool artwork, Todd McFarlane’s marketing skills – he was even coming up with his own action figure line called Todd Toys, and the upcoming movie.
So I saw a pirated print of the movie when it came out, didn’t figure out half of it, it was all blue and brown. And surprise! Spawn was a black guy. I didn’t know that!!! Later, I saw the movie properly on Star Movies, figured it out better, and thought it was an ok movie.
Well, now that I have finally read the comics, it’s nice to look back and give my first impressions.( First impressions, haha! )
The comics, all the stories, are really slow. It’s all supposed to be part of an ongoing “epic” tale, but the solo story does not stand up on its own. You would have to read 4 issues or so together to feel like things are going at a steady pace. Much ado is made about Spawn’s introspective moments ( like most other deformed heroes, like Shrek and his elder brother, The Hulk, Spawn just wants to be left alone. ) He’s back from the Dead, bartering his soul to the demon Malebolgia – for a specific purpose – to reunite with his wife, Wanda. Malebolgia tricked him, though – he comes back from the dead five years in the future, disoriented, his memories nearly gone. The worst of all, his wife has remarried, and her new husband is his best friend.
Spawn is unsure about what he has to do, and he does not know what he is supposed to do, so the only thing he ends up doing is getting trapped in a number of situations.
The stories are pretty insipid, as far as comic stories go. The artwork is gorgeous! McFarlane was one of the first artists ( and Image the first company) to use digital colouring for his art, and the brilliance shows. (The letter columns are an equal balance of people who think his art is mediocre, lacking depth and perspective – and people who think he’s God. ) Gory, sinful images – Todd’s portrayal of the “everyday American Joe” turns out to be pretty quirky at time, every character is a delight to watch.
I had a major grouse against the movie – that of the ‘narrator’s voice’, a baritone that tries to give a commentary of whatever’s happening onscreen. What rot! Can’t you let the viewer figure out things by himself? But ok, the movie was only being true to the comics – there is this irritating commentary even here – with stuff like “What will happen in our hero’s life? Only time will tell.” and other 101 cliches.
Part of me felt that McFarlane was running out of ideas, so he took to hiring different writers to take on the writing responsibilities. Neil Gaiman was one of them, Grant Morrisson another, and even Alan Moore writing the Violator miniseries. The Comics I have include Morrison’s work, and it’s bloody good. Some of Gaiman’s characters, like Angela ( an emissary of Heaven, and hence opposed to Spawn) and Angels Gabrielle and Michelle keep popping up. Heh. Female versions of angels. Nice. :-)
I am happy.
Some books read recently
1) Philip Jose Farmer – A Feast Unknown. One heck of a novel that ‘s half Pulp, a quarter Porno, and the rest Satire. The story of Lord Glandrith – who begins the ninth volume of his memoirs saying “Jack The Ripper was my father.” Heh. He’s an Immortal. He was raised by apes. His “fictional” exploits were romanticised by his biographer. Funny, weird, and extremely disturbing at times ( chewing off and eating human testicles raw only because they grow back fast, orgasming everytime he kills someone – you bet it’s yucky! ) Things begin to heat up when an Unknown Adversary made of bronze start stalking our Lord from his jungle kingdom. White-heat read.
2) Patricia Highsmith – Strangers on a Train Hmm, this was good in the buildup and the premise, I can understand why Hitchcock chose to make a movie out of it. Two strangers meet on a train, trade life stories. Both have people they don’t like messing up their lives. One of them casually suggests that each murder the other’s problem. On with the show.
I especially liked the way Highsmith got me into both the characters’ minds, alternating between guilt-ridden, troubled Guy Haines and the enigmatic Charles Bruno. I didn’t sympathize with either, and I didn’t hate either of them. And yet, I couldn’t put the book down. The problem with the book, of course, is the way it ends. You think it’s all building up to a climactic showdown, and you keep wondering where it will lead, and suddenly, the book ends. Weird. Red-heat read, definitely. Except for the last few chapters when it gets to be a Black-read.
3) John W Alderman – Sonic Boom This was about how P2P and the rise of the Internet changed the music industry. A very good account of the early days of the ‘Net, right from the time mp3 raised the barrier for downloaders and pirates everywhere. Leads you through both the legitimate companies that cropped up (like Liquid Audio, mp3.com, garagetunes.com, IUMA, even OLGA) and then through the growth of P2P via Napster. Of course, the book is a bit dated, it focusses a lot on Napster and how the court case took it’s toll on the company. Throughout the book, the skullduggery of the RIAA is brought to the fore ( I can hate those guys in peace now, bloody leeches, all of them)
Some interesting facts:
- Justin Frankel, who created Winamp, was the same guy who developed Gnutella, the enhanced P2P service after Napster. At that time AOL owned Nullsoft, and they sought to cover-up the developement procedure of Gnutella nad forbade Frankel from doing anything more with it.
- Hilary Rosen is a lesbian. Not that it matters, but still.
4) Wolverine: Origin Technically this is not a book. The story and artwork is great, though. Wolverine, the “hottest” of the Marvel characters, never had a past. The only thing known about him was that he was from Canada, and was a test subject for the Weapon X project, and his memories were obliterated. This book tells us “The greatest story never told”. How James Hewlett, a scared runt of a boy, allergic to dust, ( funny! there is this artist who created Tank Girl called Jamie Hewlett) became Logan. As was expected, this was more of a teaser….we learn small things like – how Logan picked up the word “bub” in his vocabulary, why he likes cigars, his amazing rapport with animals. The highpoint is the artwork, splendid digital colouring by Richard Isanove over Andy Kubert’s pencils. The lowpoint is the scarcity of facts, almost as if things are being set-up for a sequel.
And currently reading…
Michael Stackpole – Star Wars: The New Jedi Order – Dark Tide II : Ruin More fun! The New Republic is in trouble. The Jedi are in Deep Shit. Most of the Jedi warriors are over-confident about the Yuuzhan Vong. Jacen Solo is confused about the difference between a Jedi’s duty and the way of a warrior. On a Vong-conquered planet, it is discovered that the aliens are allergic to a particular pollen from a tree. Cliched, in The War of the Worlds kind of way, but I have no doubt the Vong are going to wangle out of this – it’s an 18-series epic, after all.