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Cashing in on country
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If country music is the stuff of white picket fences, maple syrup, lonely men sitting on bar stools and crying into their beer, can an Indian possibly claim this territory? This gent from Dehra Dun is trying to, writes C.K. MEENA, starting with his name
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Bobby Cash: Injun in cowboy country — Photo: Murali Kumar K.
IF YOU were a singer named Bal Kishore Das Loiwal from Dehra Dun, people would expect you to belt out tribal songs from Uttar Pradesh. Or Hindi film tunes, at best. But country 'n' western? No way, mister. Not even if you changed your name to Bobby Cash, as Bal Kishore did (his father used to call him Babu). Because country music is all about white picket fences and maple syrup and mom's apple pie. It's about Old Glory flying proudly from the front porch in the good old U.S.A. And lonely men sitting on bar stools, crying into their beer and pretzels as they nurse their "ache-y break-y" hearts — can an Indian possibly claim this territory?
"It's like sending an Indian to America to play in a baseball team," admits Bobby Cash, sipping a glass of mineral water at the Taj Residency's Jockey Club bar. He looks like he's about to lasso a steer. With Texan cowboy boots, a cowboy belt with a big ole shiny buckle, a denim jacket with leather patches, and a black Stetson on his head, he blends in with the paintings of racehorses on the walls. "I've earned the right to wear my hat and boots," he says with assurance, rolling his R's and stretching his vowels the American way (although he breaks into perfect Hindi when a friend calls his mobile). Discovery Channel made a one-hour documentary on the Indian Cowboy, cleverly calling him "one in a billion" since he is India's only country music singer. "I was the second Indian musician to have been featured on Discovery; the first was Pandit Ravi Shankar."
Although Bobby has been a country music pro only since '96, he has been singing and playing the guitar from an early age. His childhood was steeped in music: an uncle who made guitars, sisters and mother with a passion for music, and an aunt in Nashville who used to send them the latest country releases. His mother had a stack of Jim Reeves LPs. "I know all his songs," he says confidently. When the hotel's general manager Saurabh Ratan mentions his favourite Reeves number, Bobby obliges him with the chorus: "I'm just on the blue side of Lonesome, right next to the Heartbreak Hotel, in a tavern that's known as Three Teardrops, on a bar stool, not doin' so well."
Classical guitar
Instead of the steel guitar that most country singers use, Bobby prefers a nylon-string classical guitar. He has a collection of them, "about half a dozen" (like his hat collection, which is "about a dozen"). He combines the flamenco and classical styles with the country, giving the music his unique stamp. When he performed at the Tamworth Country Music Festival in Australia in January '03, people didn't believe that an Indian was going to sing. "They came to laugh at me." When they heard him play flamenco-style they thought he was Spanish, and on hearing his own compositions they speculated that he was American Indian.
Vast repertoire
He boasts a vast repertoire of country classics right from the World War days (Goodnight Irene, Danny Boy) all the way up to Willie Nelson, Don Williams, Kenny Rogers, and a host of others. "In America I play all my original numbers because if I only do covers they'll call me just another imitation. But here, if I don't sing Country Roads... " he laughs as he leaves the sentence hanging. He is performing to invited audiences at a string of Taj hotels, kick-starting the group's Business Celebrations' Series (a move to woo corporate clientele with music, theatre, and management talks and seminars).
The formula
When he writes songs he faithfully sticks to the formula. Before I can ask him whether the typical country song isn't full of maudlin, hackneyed sentiment, he takes the words right out of my mouth. "It's so clichéd! Jukebox and heartache and teardrops... but that's what works. We country singers have a big laugh about it sometimes. It's sentiment, but familiar sentiment. There's a common thread that runs through people." He hasn't tried to add Indian or Dehra Dun flavours to his lyrics, no whiff of eucalyptus or alu parantha. "I'm writing for an international audience." In addition to this cultural neutrality, his lyrics also usually steer clear of personal experience. "I haven't had too many heartaches. But as an artist I can feel what people go through without necessarily going through it myself." What he sees or hears can inspire him to write as well.
If Bobby Cash were to write from personal experience, one guesses that his lyrics might be rock rather than country. His father, who was from Rajasthan, married his Punjabi mother late in life. Bobby is fascinated by this flamboyant man ("You could make a whole movie about him!") who was born into great wealth and privilege and gave away most of his property. "I would have been a millionaire today. If he weren't my father I would say he was real crazy! He was eccentric. If I told you some of the things he did you wouldn't believe me." Try me, I say hopefully, but he doesn't rise to the bait. "It's not that I'm embarrassed about him," he hastens to add. He was a loving, indulgent father, and great fun. "He would wake us kids up at 3 a.m. and say, lets' go for a drive!" Racing was a passion (he was a regular at the Calcutta races where he had a major accident) and so was big game hunting. He was "at least 86" when he died.
"I would have been doing nothing," says Bobby with a laugh, "if it hadn't been for my mother." Thanks to her persistence, he got an education. And he pursued his music unhindered. His priorities: "God first, family second, and profession third." That's how he has been able to remain balanced. His talent is god-given, he says. "No gimmicks. Just one man on a guitar. Total skill."
River of notes
The skill was on full display when he took the spotlight at the Taj's Trinity Hall. A rich, complex river of notes poured from those nylon strings. Of course he sang the John Denver favourite, Country Roads. "Take me home to the place where I belong, West Virginia... "
Now, shouldn't that be Dehra Dun?
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