Zero Reunion Gig at the HRC Mumbai

What: Zero reunion concert, Mumbai leg
Where: Hard Rock Café, Worli
When: 22 December 2009
Who: Blackstratblues, Zero – The original four

A few years ago, this side of Christ, Aryabhatta formulated the concept of a number with no ostensible value - Zero. About a millennium and a half later, four Dadar boys turned it into the single most important numeral for the rock fraternity in India.

For those among you who were too busy seeing Chetan Bhagat getting his five point arse whooped on Twitter, and are wondering what all the hoopla about this particular concert was about – an explanation is owed. Zero was formed in 2000 by Dadar boys Rajeev Talwar on vox, Bobby Talwar on bass, the funnyman Siddharth Cuotto on drums and Warren Mendonsa on guitars. The departure of Warren to Auckland in late 2004 left a gaping hole which was filled by various guitarists at various points of time, culminating in the talented, but lead-footed Niranjan ‘Pozy’ Dhar. Till their last performance at I-Rock in August 2008, Zero had become, arguably the most popular band in India – playing gigs across the country like men possessed, but especially in Bombay. They were cheeky, wild, funny, energetic and their songs had an infectious pop-rock sing-along touch which always got the crowd involved. With the songwriting skills of Sid and Rajeev, the catchy basswork of Bobby, and the brilliance of Warren’s guitaring, Zero gathered fans who hadn’t even seen them live.

The news of Zero splitting up was no less than a tragedy to their legions of fans. And at I-Rock 2008 as the end neared, people started gathering from all corners of Chitrakoot grounds for that final hour of madness with Zero. The most poignant moment in Indian rock came during those last five minutes when the cops pulled the sound during their most iconic song and Indie anthem, PSP 12”, There was anger, pain and dare we say, tears. Enraged as the crowd was, it recoverd in time to sing along, back to Zero giving, them the perfect send-off. The emotion was so huge, the only analogy that comes to mind is the Oval sending off Don Bradman in 1948 (sorry, non-cricket fans).

Given this situation, the news of the Original Four getting back for a one-off series of concerts obviously created a lot of excitement (ooh, ohh, got a better analogy this time – like Deep Purple fans felt in 1984 when the Classic Mark-II lineup got back together). This was going to be the chance for everyone to relive those mad memories and for those who missed them earlier to experience the magic that was (is?) Zero. The ensuing explosion of activity on Twitter, Facebook (and 16 posts on Orkut, if that counts) and the likes made this the most virally spread series of concerts by an Indian rock band – ever.

Zero were (are?) not just a rock band. As clichéd as this sounds, they were the voices of a generation. A generation which started off demanding covers of Metalikkkaaaa and Pinkflaaayyyyyd (also note, only Enter Sandman and Comfortably Numb would’ve been heard by these experts, so if the band felt particularly sadistic, they’d play The Four Horsemen or Astronomy Domine and make the crowd feel rather foolish about themselves). This generation today wants bands to do only original songs. A generation which pleads Motherjane for Broken, Them Clones for My Life and (Oh, what the hell) Parikrama for Open Skies. Has Zero been responsible for this change? Not completely. But they sure as hell played a big part.

At Mithibai College, on the 16^th, when Warren played with Johan Pais, Tajdar Junaid and Jai Row Kavi songs from his solo project, Blackstratblues, the crowd already got a flavor of what to expect. Following the brilliant set by the ‘blues, Warren called out some “old friends” onto stage and Zero proceeded to, in 20 short minutes, blow Vile Parle apart. But it was really at Hard Rock Café on the 22^nd that we got the true taste of what this band was (again… is?) capable of.

The 45-minute set by Blackstratblues was the perfect buildup. Warren Mendonsa is one of the best guitarists India has ever produced and he did not disappoint. Opening with a combination of his two most soulful tracks – Incense and Anuva’s Sky, moving onto The Happy Billi Song from his new album, The New Album (download it free here!) through the classy Blues for Gary and closing with Ode To a Sunny Day (never again, ignore that scorching sun, Warren reminds us), As for the covers – well, no disrespect to John and Paul, but we’d rather have listened to Bombay Rain or Another Sun than I’m Only Sleeping. In any case, it was the perfect buildup, and after a short break, all hell broke loose. Of course, in between was the almost extempore ‘song’, We’re All Here For Zero by Sid.

We should probably mention here that poor ol’ Hard Rock Café Mumbai has probably never seen a crowd like this, more than 600 people packed in Virar-fast-like density. Kids who’d grown up following Zero and had subsequently got busy with their jobs (hence retiring from the gig scene) could all be seen greeting each other as if it was the reunion of brothers after splitting in the Kumbh Mela. The atmosphere was electric, almost like a festival. And when Rajeev took to stage and launched into Take Me Away (the first song they wrote post-Procrastination, also one of the last songs written with Warren), Hard Rock Café exploded.

And from that point onwards things only intensified with Old Man Sitting on The Back Porch (with some Tujhe Dekha To thrown in for good measure), and the ever-popular Lucy. HRC was then, 700 cranium bobbing and screaming (Ok, joke – Zero’s bassist headbanging would be Bobbing Talwar. Okay). They temporarily warmed the hearts of Southern-rock fans by playing the first few strains of Freebird suddenly breaking into Stop and Lullabye. They do not play too many covers (“we’re too lazy”, says Rajeev- we know too well), but an internet-circulated Zero version of Roxanne made waves (MP3s, actually. Ok, I’ll stop), and they obliged by playing it. Kickass.

Then things went retro with the #1 breakup song by an Indian rock band – Not My Kind Of Girl (like one review said, you just need to sit your ex down, plug the earphones in her ears and watch her expression) followed by a string of live favorites Hate In E minor (with a dash of Purple Haze), Mama’s Calling (the rare-gem of the evening), Ayaya (a song named when Warren went Heisenberg on his keyboard) and I Ain’t Satisfied. This was followed by the intense and brilliant Wish, another lesser known masterpiece, a song most unlike Zero by their own admission. If you haven’t heard this, please do. Probably the best Indian Indie song to not make it to an album. Warren’s brilliance here again – playing harmonics for rhythm during the verses.

After this followed Warren’s Magnum Opus, Christmas In July, probably the finest instrumental released by an Indian band. And yes, at this point, if you’ve never heard Zero before and are cynical about this reviewer using too many superlatives, it’s because it was - Zero. Period. Another live heavyweight Mariachi brought along memories of careless headbanging and insane moshpits at Razz. First Rang Bhavan, then Razz, now Zero – all gone. What’s left? Anyway, Zero’s signature rock version of Harry Belafonte’s Banana Boat Song (super fun) followed, where they were bombarded with, erm, colourful feminine innerwear (and no, that’s not an innuendo. Not yet).

Zero had performed most of their favorites by now. It was getting late and those who knew Zero, knew what came next. The band gave one last knowing look at each other and that familiar bassline kicked in. Warren took this last chance for some improvisation, giving Rajeev the opportunity to give a semi-inspirational, semi-sentimental speech about supporting Indian rock (and cheerily greeting a cousin in the nonce). Finally, the speech ended. Bobby was still going steady and Warren finally got his hand around F#add9 and found those oh-so-familiar four notes. The #1 song of the decade, the anthem of a generation, a song with the weirdest possible story behind the name, PSP 12” was underway. They’d made us wait two hours for it, like they promised. Hard Rock Café Mumbai screamed enough to make Copenhagen think it was because of the Greenhouse Effect. And after 6 glorious minutes, it was over. Just like that Livewire where Rajeev climbed up and hung from wires, that I-Rock with Ravi Chari on sitar, that Razz show the last time Warren was here, this was a night that people would count along with the Waters and Maidens they’ve been to.

In a daze, we got our autographs, our merchandise, our photos with Warren, and lots more. Okay, the sound was bad (pathetic, actually, rendering all videos quite useless). Okay, they didn’t play Cry, which two of us so desperately wanted (perhaps the most underappreciated Zero song ever, and probably Warren’s finest guitar work after CiJ). One half of this reviewer duo even went to Pune the next day (after writing an exam the morning in between, but what the heck). But for atmosphere, for history, for sentiment – nothing can beat Zero – Bombay’s own band – in Bombay. Rumors abound that Zero will keep doing these reunion tours every few years, and that could very well be the case. We don’t know if that will happen, but one thing is for dang sure – the boys were still as sharp as ever, and from Livewire 2000 to HRC 2009, Zero have been one of the driving forces of a tectonic shift in rock music in India. Thank you, Rajeev, Bobby, Sid and Warren.

Aryabhatta would have been proud.

Deepak Gopalakrishnan and Varad Wategaonkar are Zero freaks based in Bombay. One is an Old Man Sitting On a Corporate Porch, the other is Not SSJ College’s Type Of Engineering Student. In between making social media plans and trying to make sense of Khurmi, they’ve been trying to make as many people listen to Zero as they can. And this gig was Mecca for them.

Reach them at www.twitter.com/chuck_gopal and http://twitter.com/iDADDYDOODLE