26/07/2024
Dear Shafin bhai,
How do I begin to explain to anyone who’s reading this how fu***ng cool you were?
Here’s an example: five minutes before a live show on air at the radio, one of us in the control room noticed his E string was out of tune, and for some reason he hadn’t flagged it yet. Four producers in the room, some of the best background people in music you’ve probably never heard of but are behind the magnificent sound of the shining lights on stage; not one of us had the cojones to tell this.. living legend, this inscrutable rockstar, that he was out of tune. One of us finally scrunched up what little courage we had, and relayed it to him over the monitoring headphones. He just grinned, as if a whole roomful of musicians didn’t just hear him being called out, and looked at the window towards us, a Cheshire Cat like schoolboy “whoops” written on his face, and effusively thanked us for the direction, and then tuned up and belted out two hours of banger after banger. We had always heard the mythos of rockstars and their egoes and images: this completely rocked our collective world.
Over time, we’ve had our disagreements; it’s only fair that two individual brands of politics can only go as far as to agree to disagree. Yet, we’ve had the pleasure of having him in our studio a handful of times; we’ve rarely met a more courteous, and more importantly, a more professional musician in our time in this historic music scene of ours. And that moment meant the world to us.
I’ve had the honour of getting to know almost all of my heroes from childhood to my formative years, and have always been very abashed about taking pictures with them: it seemed unprofessional and distasteful to me for some godforsaken reason, to take advantage of my standing to be a fan. In this man’s case, though, I had to make an exception. He was the first man who had come alive from cassette to reality to a five year old living in a far flung town, and when Miles finished the set with “Chaad Tara”, all of us kids had tears in our eyes while screaming out the lyrics: it was the song of our time.
Farewell, hero. You may be gone, but the groove you’ve left us with will live on forever.
R.