Moonlighting becomes you

The sun sets on the city skyline. Rush hour on the local. Traffic updates on the radio. Mumbai pours out of the office and lets its hair down. Drinks at a bar in Bandra. Party at a club down town. A doctor, a venture capitalist, an MLA, some others, morph into musicians and play jazz by the bay. The financial capital transforms under the moonlight to welcome the dawn. Nida Mariam and Mukesh Trivedi chronicle the night

Jazz takes priority in my life. I left a wedding reception half way in order to be here,” Kirandip Swani declares as he puts down his instrument case on a table at Not Just Jazz By The Bay.

“My wife’s really pissed, but that’s okay. I had to play with the group tonight,” he grins. He takes off his dinner jacket to reveal a golden-yellow ‘Jazz Junkey’ logo embroidered on the left pocket of his black shirt. Trading the jacket for a saxophone, Swani, who runs an export house by day, sheds his identity as a businessman and slips into that of a jazz musician.

Comprising a range of successful mid-career professionals—from financial consultants and art gallery owners to radiologists, the Jazz Junkeys are a unique 15-piece collaboration of amateur musicians who find time to get together once a month and play up a storm.

It’s Friday night. Most of the Junkeys saunter in early and gather at the bar for a drink before the show. Vaman Apte, who owns a chocolate factory and also coaches the junior national squash team, recalls his first gig in Pune: “I hadn’t clipped my trombone and when I got onto stage, it just slid off,” he laughs. “We just get onto stage and have a blast,” says Nitesh Mitersan, who has a software business.

News about another Junkey, Dr Farhad Kapadia, head of the ICCU department at Hinduja Hospital, arrives: “He’s held up with an emergency,” his wife informs. With ‘real life’ always on their heels, turning up is not always easy. But when Kapadia lands up later, it becomes clear that the commitment to the band is collective. “I’ll play and go back,” he says. Speaking like a true doctor, he adds, “Anyway, music is good for the soul.”

Performing for passion and not for a paycheck, the Junkeys envision themselves as an attempt to make jazz more accessible in a culture dominated by DJs. The message of their metamorphosis is simple: ‘If we can do it, so can you.’ “Though, if you look at us carefully while we’re performing, you’ll notice that Joe is the only one actually playing. The rest of us are just fooling around,” Apte jokes. The comment, however, is telling of the high esteem in which the Junkeys hold their 78-year-old teacher, Joe Pereira. “Give him any instrument and he’ll play it,” says Jai Shah.

An MLA from Uttaranchal, Shah himself plays the tenor sax and has practised the tabla since he was six. Indian classical music and jazz have a lot in common, he feels, and he often infuses the Bhairavi raga in his solo mouth organ performance. As for Pereira, better known as Jazzy Joe of Jazzy Joe’s Quartet, he is the living legend who has enabled his students to play together for the public by inviting them to his professional gigs.

The place fills up by the time the Junkeys get up on stage. They break in with Fanfare. Getting into the groove, they feel the pulse of the crowd. Samuel Gracias, from Jazzy Joe’s Quartet, sweeps the audience away with his deep, raspy voice. There are shouts for Dave Brubeck’s Take Five, and the Junkeys oblige. The crowd breaks into applause. “I didn’t know that Mumbai had such a thriving jazz scene!” a Britisher from a group of foreigners en route to Goa exclaims.

The last of the Junkeys walk in, in time for the second set. They are the Jehangirs of the Jehangir Art Gallery. The only ones out of uniform, they break the line of black. Husband Jehangir Jehangir, plays the trumpet and the flugelhorn, and wife Jasmine Jehangir, plays the alto sax. Their daughter takes the mike and their son, the drums.

“He wants to become a drummer,” Jasmine says, “But I’ve told him, if he’s drumming, he’d better be drumming jazz.” Swani informs, “Jasmine’s the only female alto sax player in the country. And I’m the only sardar playing the sax!” He laughs.

The night beats along as the spotlight swirls around the room — a scarlet sun one moment, a silver star the next. In a corner by the bar, a young couple breaks into a salsa to the beats of swing. Apte blows his all into the trumpet and Jehangir rocks backward with his flugelhorn. There is magic in the air. By now, most of the crowd is swaying on its feet, as the Junkeys wrap up the night with a feet-stomping rendition of When The Saints Go Marching In.