Joe Satriani played in Mumbai, like some of his friends did - Mark Knopfler, Rolling Stones, and Sting in New Delhi. And, because Bangalore is an 'international city', they make it their stop. I don't know about Bangalore, but I know for sure the dud-heads in Mumbai and New Delhi, the 'international cities of India', would not even know how to pronounce the names of these gurus, let along understand what they do. The Satriani Concert was Friday evening, at 7 pm and I was told I had to be there at 5.30 pm! WTF!! that is not the time to hold some concert! the sun doesn't set in the Arabian coast till 7.30. MORONs!!!! The tickets were too costly and too cumbersome to get, so I skipped this with tears. For a guy like Satriani, there should have been more publicity atleast more coverage. And there was none! Had he did a gig in Chennai, he would have played to a full house.
My favourite review came from rediff.com, the best parts of which are below.
And Joe gives them the universal symbol of appreciation.
Well, if he is the God of Guitar, Saint Joe, Mumbai is a land of pagans.
Half of them weren't altogether certain that the bald feller with shades wrapped around his head was the Satriani. And don't even get me started on the average mispronunciation of the name school kids all over the guitar-playing world, holding their first electric axe, worship.
out in the front, Mumbai's schmoozerati bubbled around, chattering while the musician played, every now and then looking in front, nodding their heads and pretending to know just why that moment was so special.
And then I crash landed when, while the master nimbly crafted the classic Flying in a blue dream, I overheard a boy in a Satriani T-shirt, in knowledgeable tones, tell a few listening acolytes, "Ah, that's Cool No 9."
I refused to stifle my groan.
this was one helluva effort because it tried to take a Mumbai crowd and expose it to a musician they mostly didn't know, playing three hours of music. Without words.
What resulted was dismal: the crowd was unappreciative.
Yes, let's not count the metalheads in front tossing up the headbanger's devil sign with their fingers while Satriani, by his own admission, tried to play "something spacey."
Some of these heavy music maniacs actually began filing out even before the show hit the half-way mark, and the unpacked ground never really behaved like a concert.
If we can't assure them that much -- while it pains me to say this -- I suggest we don't invite them.