Holy Joe! It’s the God of Guitar himself. Would you believe your eyes? Is this Calcutta? Of course, it is. Can’t you see that the crowd just isn’t there? Can’t you see clusters of uncles and mashimas relaxing in the far-off grassy area; some are lying down, and some are calling it a weird kind of picnic? At the other end is the pulsating, psychedelic stage; to some the podium of God. But only to some. They are bowing down, some are even praying, hailing the maestro as he relentlessly showers his divine six-string blessings. Never mind the occasionally jarring sound system, which has been flown into the city; maybe it just wasn’t geared up for such alien heat and humidity. But even we Calcuttans weren’t geared up for something like this. Joe Satriani ? the first genuine international rock act to hit this supposedly ‘rocking’ city since Wishbone Ash early in the 80s, playing to an astonishingly sparse turnout. Does that sound like a crying shame? Just where have all the upholders gone?

God, if we believe, is known to forgive. But we really don’t know if this particular one is going to forget even though he said something like “We’re kinda havin’ a hard time onstage, but all that makes us perform even better and I’m not gonna let it bother us” and then “Kolkata, we will see you real soon” before fading his haloed presence away. You can count your blessings, for that was the last we saw of scintillating Satch in the flesh. Do we hear the word miracle? What kind?

Ground reality on the positive side ? Satch played like only a dream musician can. And that’s one thing only the 80s rock brigade is famous for pulling off. They really don’t care about headcount, and rock your asses off. Twenty people or 20,000 ? or was it 2,000? 6,000? or more accurately 3,000? ? you’re in for a rocking gig nine times out of 10 with these guys. That’s the spirit of rock and roll, friends, and it was alive and kicking under an unfamiliar Calcutta sky. Bet you weren’t there.

The hardcore fans that probably numbered close to just a hundred were obviously expecting a Satch feast and they got a lot more on their outstretched plate. Crystal planet, Satch boogie, Surfing with the alien, Flying in a blue dream, Strange, The extremist, The lords of karma, Psycho monkey, Summer song, Moroccan sunset, Starry night ? it was a delightful rundown on the illustrious Satch catalogue. Bamboo, Searching, Hands in the air, Is there love in space? ? tracks from his latest album were played towards the end. They probably did not miss If I could fly, the finest track from Is There Love In Space; maybe they were just too enamoured for such sensibilities. But it was also hard getting there. The organisers made heavy weather of a rather paltry gig, making fans twine out in the heat for nearly two hours from before “gates open 4:45 pm”; for it wasn’t until 6:30 pm that the larger part of the snake snailed in. But once into the arena, all was forgotten (forgiven, maybe not) as they got what they were waiting for just about a week. Maybe the event management machinery was either too confident or too oblivious of someone like Joe Satriani. Maybe, it was just another job that had to be gotten over with. Maybe it was an experiment that went awry. Maybe it is now too much to hope for getting in yet another major international rock act into the city. Maybe speed metal giants Megadeth, the next India entrant is oblivious of Calcutta’s bungle-up. Maybe we are hoping against hope.