One man’s music is another’s noise. I often hear murmurs of protest whenever I play my type of music at my workplace. Therefore the strains of Indian Ocean have to make their way to my tympanic membrane only through the headphones.
In the mid 1990s my music maniac brother (he’s also a foto freak) was reverberating the neighbourhood with a new type of sound (he’s no musician, but he is an ardent believer that people four houses down the hill should also listen to what he likes). And I said hey! that’s my kind of noise. And an affair with Indo-rock fusion began.
My cruise on this ocean began with their first self-titled album and all their subsequent efforts (Black Friday being the last) have only but enriched my passion for their type of fusion.
With a missionary zeal, I have been able to convert many of my friends and acquaintances to my brand of euphonical noise (my conservative colleagues remain unrelenting). And now I am shifting my focus online.
Like them, loath them, but you can’t ignore them. Indian Ocean is not a tsunami; it is the gentle sea breeze bringing along clouds that quench the often-arid landscape of popular Indian music.