Beer mathram kitti ?” asks Tony John who is clad in a black veshti, and the crowd yells back. It doesn’t matter that Avial is playing in Chennai; everyone in the audience seems to understand Malayalam.
At 10 p.m., the noise is deafening and there are more people now than there were for any other band. They stumble in the dark, trampling many feet in the process for the front row is where all the energy is, that’s where all the students are swaying and head-banging to the music. There’s a small group playing football, kicking the ball in rhythm with the beat, there’s a girl grooving to the music even as she sits on someone’s shoulders and a selfie stick that is being passed around among the fans. The enthusiasm of the crowd is boundless. For a minute it doesn’t seem like the music festival is taking place in Chennai but a closer look at the crowd gives it away: a woman dressed in a resplendent white anarkali mingles freely with those wearing shorts, a family of four complete with two small kids actively jump along to the music, and Bermuda shorts-clad men reaffirm that the city has always had an odd, but independent sense of fashion. This is the Rock Stock Festival at Chariot Beach, Mahabalipuram.
My colleagues and I land up at 7 p.m., just in time to see Chennai-based band Skrat play. We find our way to the VIP section that’s right in the middle; it’s a platform that’s topped with red felt with two rows of chairs at the back and an exceptionally passive audience. It’s no surprise that our eyes, and quite literally our hearts, are drawn to the front with its sweaty, hyperactive energy. As the hours wear on, we find that the music grows on us. While we scour the venue and come back to take our places, the band has changed. The air is heavy with an electric zest and after a couple of enquiries that leave us none the wiser, the drums reveal a logo — it’s Thermal and a Quarter.
Later, Junkyard Groove’s frontman is topless and dancing to his music. There’s no doubt that the band is quite popular; people here know the lyrics by rote. A rendition of the Addams Family soundtrack has people singing along the loudest. As the star performance of the night, Avial, takes the stage, they have the audience hooked to every word of theirs — be it the psychedelic ‘Aadu Pambe’, a song about the forest and of forest dwellers and their culture, or Thyagaraja’s composition of ‘Nagumomu Ganaleni’, rendered quite beautifully by Neha Nair.
For those walking in, the atmosphere seems quite subdued. There are many youngsters running around and some inebriated ones walking out of the venue. One of us almost steps on a guy who’s passed out and he doesn’t notice. But going back is not a simple option; especially if you’ve travelled almost 55 km to attend this.
Of course, Chennai has a long way to go before it catches up with Sunburn, NH7 or even Fireflies, but this is a start and a good one at that. It’s a great initiative for both performers and fans of independent music and good company makes it even better. There are even a few stalls that sell shiny hats, T-shirts and ceramic dolls. One of the drawbacks, however, is the limited and expensive food. Skrat’s T.T. Sriram, though, is happy with the turnout, especially at a time when, he says, “people prefer DJs”. But he adds that there is not enough publicity for independent music. It’s no Coachella or Lollapalooza, but with a turnout of close to 1,500, the festival works. We leave what feels like a special musical celebration — the promise of EDM at the after party doesn’t lure us, EDM has never lured us — but the night culminates with a dose of Girish and the Chronicles that still rings in our heads when in the car. A Saturday night well spent.
(With inputs from Raveena Joseph and Susanna Myrtle Lazarus)
