And then the Music Died

Yesterday I went to watch a play at St. Andrews. A small and beautiful play, Jazz was in many ways a personal tribute I have always wanted to make to music that is eternal. I live in a world where Rock is commercialized, I live in a world where folk is dead, and I live in a world where the Sax no longer plays the Jazz. And though perhaps it is better to respect the old times and not mourn about them, I can not help but feel a sense of loss whenever I put on my old music.

Witty, humourous and ‘in-your-face’, Jazz traversed the glory days of Bollywood music and the importance of music in those days. It spoke of musicians with a passion; it spoke of those unnamed geniuses whose only aim in life was to create music that mattered. All through the play the music kept flowing through the Sax. Music that came from a time when my dad was in college. Music... which yet had the hope of making a better world.

Why do we continue to hope for a Floyd reunion? Why does Bangalore cry when Mark Knofler plays Romeo and Juliet? Why does the world cheer for an Eagle come back? Why does the Rolling Stone never stop? The old bard answered it years ago, “if music be the food of life, play on.”

By the way, have you ever wondered what John Lennon’s last hit was? It was the pavement.