Indian origins of Jazz
My Poppadam tol me
Although jazz has thrown up an abundance of controversies over the
years, the one element on which there has hitherto been universal
agreement is that concerning the origins of the music.
It has long been accepted that jazz evolved from a combination of
African music, introduced into America by the slaves, and European dance
music.
Now, however, comes a remarkable book, Jazz Is Where You Sikh It, by P.
Vencatachellum, which threatens to cause a gigantic upheaval in jazz
circles by claiming that jazz had its origins in India in the middle of
the 19th century.
In a fully documented survey of the beginnings of jazz, Venatachellum
traces its origins to an eating house in New Delhi where the
specialities were particular spicy jhals. The resident musicians led by
Ali Zanda, specialised in syncopated improvised music which quickly
became associated with the food being served. It became known locally as
hot jhals music and, as the musicians played the l out of it, this became
corrupted to hot jhas From there it was a short step to hot jazz or jazz.
If this were all the evidence that Vencatachellum was able to provide,
it would be derisory indeed. But he goes on to trace the spread of the
music to other towns in India where, during the days of prohibition,
musicians would get together for what were known as chutney sessions in
the local Sikheasies.
Meanwhile the original New Delhi band was gaining a wide following among
the Sikhs who derived, it is said, great élan from the music. As a
result of this the band became known as the Original Sikhs Elan Jhas
Band and the leader achieved additional fame when he wrote Ali Zander's
Raga Time Band.
Hand in hand with the evolution of jazz in New Delhi was a secondary
movement emanating from a member of the British Raj in the northern
state of Nepal. He assembled around himself a large orchestra of British
and Indian musicians which became known as the Nepal White Man Band.
Also contributing to the mainstream of jazz development was religious
music and a number of gopal (gospel) singers were emerging, using jazz
rhythms in conjunction with traditional hymns like 'We Pilau The Fields
And Scatter'. And from the workers in the cotton fields came the blues
form, later taken up with some success by a titled woman in the Punjab
known only as Maharanee (later corrupted by Western writers to Ma Rainey).
But perhaps the blues movement, says Vencatachellum, came from the
fakirs (including some elderly female ones known as mother fakirs) who
roamed Bombay moaning laments as they walked through hot coals.
Their wailing became so distracting that the authorities banished them
to the municipal toilets where a special section was put aside for them.
The lavatory seats each had a dozen spikes sticking up and the wailing
that echoed through the place naturally became universally known as the
music of the 12-barb loos perhaps the most fundamental form of Indian
jazz.
Vencatachellum traces the development of various forms of jazz that of
the West Coast stream evolved by a group of diminutive members of the
aristocracy known as Shorty Rajahs, the bebop movement introduced by a
number of seers who transformed the standard Whispering into Guruvin
High and the rock n roll style pioneered by Chuck Ber-Beri, who found
fame with RagaBeating Boogie and Sweet Little Sikhs Teen.
The Author is particularly interesting when he gives the stories behind
such jazz standards as Low Down Dhoti Shame Blues, Poppadam Allow No
Music Played In Here and You Korma Long Way From New Delhi. He also
refers at length to the introduction of the electric sitar by Charlie
Hindu and the contributions made by such Indian jazz greats as Vindaloo
Donaldson, Rajah kellaway, Rupee Braff, and singers like Delhi Rice and
Chappatti page. He also recalls the pioneering work of the dark-hued
trombonist from the south known as Tanned Ory.
Vencatachellum is convincing when he explains how Indian jazz evolved
into rhythm and blues through the efforts of the Tabla Motown label. And
he is most persuasive when he talks about the bosa nova influence from
the former Portugese region, led by the talented Domengo Chutney.
Domengo, he explains, is nicknamed Mango by his followers, and since he
comes from the former Portugese region, is often referred to as Goa
Mango an appellation familier to jazz lovers throughout the world.
However the author is on rather more treacherous ground when he sets out
to prove that most of the American jazz standards are, in fact, based on
original Indian tunes.
He quotes the case, for example, of an Indian potentate who commissioned
a song from a local composer. The composer completed the work and, to
make an impression, rode to the palace sitting on the ear of an elephant
and singing, Caliph, On Ear I Come. He has other far-fetched
explanations for titles like Ghee Baby Ain't I Good To You, Whose Sari
Now, DIG Urdu Urdu and I Call My Sugar Ghandi.
Vencatachellum has written a recourceful and fascinating book, but I am
bound to say that if you are a serious student of jazz, in the Brian
Oxide class, you may find that Jazz Is Where You Sikh It, instead of
helping you, tends to India.
This article is reprinted from Melody Maker and is attributed by that
magazine to the almost totally unknown authority on Indian culture, Jean
Elliot, who has made a bit of chutney in her time and once visited Southall?
(from a email from Eric)- if this article is tongue in cheek, is it a hot spicy tongue?
