Taken from
Jazzmandu 2005, Day 6: Jazz And Nepal’s Youth
Published: November 25, 2005
By Mark Sabbatini
The doors were locked when I arrived at a free jam session at the Upstairs Jazz Bar, maybe Kathmandu’s most notable jazz club - and it wasn’t due to a lack of interest. People were jammed in to the point of being unable to move, which Chhedup Bomzan, the club’s owner and director of the festival, said is not typical during regular gigs.
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“It’s really a nice intimate place,” said Meg Ferrigno, a Rochester, N.Y, resident who has spent the past year in Nepal studying Buddhism. But on this night she was locked outside, separated from friends who arrived earlier.
managed to convince the bouncer to let me in long enough to take a few awkward photos before I had to stop holding my breath and escape to the street for oxygen. It’s definitely a place for the dedicated to get their fix, complete with memorabilia from world-famous and Nepali performers filling the walls. I listened to a couple of tunes from the street and it was pretty casual and unremarkable blues/funk stuff, so I wasn’t feeling any great sense of loss.
The Kathmandu Post, often somewhat over complimentary in its coverage, did offer interesting tidbits about the intensity level later in the evening, including this about drummer Håkon Johansen of the Norwegian fusion trio Solid: “Håkon showed his techniques and fury in a blistering drum solo that split his drumstick into half. Amusing moments came after he broke his left-hand drumstick, too, as he searched around for something to hit the skin with. Giving up, he picked up his shoe and started playing with that.”
Meanwhile, I had an unexpected backup plan thanks to a “live jazz” sign I saw earlier outside a bar near my hotel. Signs in Nepal don’t always reflect reality, but in this case it turned out to be one of the most pleasant surprises of my trip.
A respectfully traditional rendition of “Footprints” was being played by an electric guitar/ bass/drums trio as I climbed the stairs to the second-story Full Moon Bar. It’s a typical small Nepali hangout with maybe 10 floor-level tables where shoes are removed before sitting on cushions. Squeezed into a corner floorspace next to the bar three casually dressed younger guys looking more like they ought to be doing grunge - or at least jam band grooves - were authoring the ’60s post-bop licks with authority.
Guitarist Jiojmee Dojee Sherpa, aside from his wah-wah tone lending a bit of blues attitude, ripped through a series of complex chords and meters, skipping the excess barrage of notes younger players often rely on to make an impression. The intelligent restraint also prevailed in bassist’s Chi Thapa support and drummer’s Sagar Shrestha rapid-but-light Roy Haynes-like flourishes. It was the first straightahead jazz I’ve heard in Nepal and the kind of stuff one can nurse for hours while noshing rakshi and chiura.
