This isn't Super Bowl. But the singer at the SDAT Tennis Stadium at Nungambakkam knows he needs to act up on stage to keep the ten-odd people in the audience hooked. In his current state of other-worldliness it has probably missed him that nine of the ten who're bearing a prematurely insufferable Chennai sun in the stands are there purely on a professional obligation.
This is the final day of the Aircel Chennai Open. The turn-out for the tennis has been rather apathetic in the first few days, so the organisers have decided to jazz up the proceedings with a ‘rock' show leading up to the singles final.
So the frontman lurches about, drawing vague patterns in the air with his stick-like arms — he does everything to an empty house, as his band labours on in the backdrop. Obviously, it's not working. The riffs and rhythms appear overtly influenced by the playlist of an engineering college freshman — Lars Ulrich's frenetic drum solo from ‘One', streaks of Sabbath's trademark wailing guitar, Floyd's chopper intro all make honorary, watered down appearances between sets.
Recovering somewhat from his state of dissociation, the singer belts out an enthusiastic welcome to those present, whose numbers now can be counted on the fingers of a single hand. But somebody in a position of power is apparently watching and listening. The four are soon asked to stop before the final match.
Pre-match festivities
The Aircel Chennai Open has had a history of such pre-match festivities, which have proven to be mere distractions before the real deal is served up. Last year, the revelry was slightly better received as Bollywood second-stringer Vivek Oberoi paired up with Tamil actor Suriya to draw in the crowds during a slow first phase.
A few years earlier, it was Suriya again, along with footballer Bhaichung Bhutia, who had a doubles hit and giggle with Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi, the two senior pros lobbing the ball compulsorily to allow their lesser qualified opponents a chance at sustaining a rally.
Populist cinema-related sidelights have been better accepted by the regulars at Chennai Open and the spectator-deprived show this year did one's perceptions of the supposedly burgeoning local music scene no favour. All it did was offer a scary confirmation that, barring a few ensembles, ‘rock' bands in India feel the only way ahead is by wearing bizarre facial hair, clunky piercings and a self-righteous attitude. The music comes last. The audience doesn't turn up at all.
