The Desis Rock- Ambiotica Louge Part 1

These are my people. Sort of.

I'm half Indian, the other half British, and when push comes to shove, I speak only Michigan. Still, though, if you haven't gleaned, my name really isn't Mr. Bean, it's a proper Indian to-do, a real Bengali mouthful, so you have to know I'm stoked to catch this fusion act, this dovetailing of East meets West so common in California. The band leader is adorned in a Wild Bill Hickock hat and rocking the Harmonium, Tablas kicking the backbeat- all while soundchecking. As he points out, it is typical Desi style- Desi being the Hindi word for 'Indian'- to be loose about this. And late. Desis are always late. I can't look at this man's hat without cracking up, this single manifestation of 'Cowboys and Indians.'

Ali Khan- the act that will follow the Burning Man film, is off the stage, finished with the soundcheck, and a man with a heavy French accent is telling us all about the film he has made, all about Burning Man. And for someone not yet indoctrinated to this, it is fascinating. The desert flats on site are absurdly vacant, and the purveyors of the festival are driving what looks like a pimped out version of Mr. Skywalker's Land Speeder. By 1989, they had gathered only 300 people for the festival, whenst* it was still held next to the Bay. Watching what I will diplomatically call 'scantily clad' women swinging fire around in huge arcs, years later, I am enraptured, I need to go, I have to see this phenomena. I know it has become a little spoiled, to the point where the fool who prematurely Burned the Man made national news, but still, I've got to get it before it goes. Maybe I can blog for that, too, though I doubt the desert will facilitate this. I'll have to ask Inflata-Bill. I'm sure he knows.

*I don't care if it's not a real word. I'm too fond of it to let it go. I'm going to use it as much as possible throughout the evening.