The night it was...

There was a time I used to be a guitarist in a band. (Psstt…I used the word 'used to’ – underline that before bombarding me with lyrical questions).

We played songs to the tunes of Bollywood, Hollywood and Jalan Harapanwood…yes that was where the band was ‘born.’

We’ve like a 100 piece band ….sometimes not knowing the guy at the other end playing the clarinet or where he came from or the lead guitarist looking like Jimi Hendricks minus the slicks.

Then there was me, a novice learning to play the elementary version of a guitar but landed playing a three-pick-up Fender red/white slicker. I must've looked like a lamppost then.

Anyway…my first gig, I remmy that well. We played at a wedding reception for a notorious thug in a place called Kampong Selut in Prai.

As we got to setting up our equipment, the whole bloody kampong folks including the grandfathers and grandmothers came out and ogled at us like monkeys in cage.
From the watching hungry crowd someone yelled out “Ooooi…u never play my favourite song u o’rang tada balek umah.”

Before that, we were forewarned by some wayward kampungaites that if we ever were to play to the wrong tune, or sing like drunken toads, or even play song that sounds likes going to a funeral - WE DIE.
That scared the s**t out of us.

Then, with much hesitation we started our “concerto,’ braved ourselves and played like Beatles and Elvis and a lil’bit of Deep Purple in us - put together. Half the crowd went crazy, drunk, became rowdy and at one point we heard someone holler out, “Heh! You’all good lah.”

We heard it, I heard it and the rest, what shall I say became … MUSIK Graduation. They made us strum, bang, sing, dance and wiggle till 12 am – way past the fees they paid us. The next 3 days we came down with sore throats and laryngitis - hehehe.

Dedicated in memory to the bassist who committed suicide after few gigs with the band.