'Dangdut' king A. Rafiq dstill in tune

Narada Krisnaputra, Contributor, Jakarta

The burly man looks surprised and his eyes widen. All of a sudden, he moves his body closer to me; his face is just inches from mine.

For a very brief moment, I think he is about to yell, or worse, hypnotize me.

"Read my lips: I don't think there's still someone out there who has the guts to call dangdut kampungan (provincial). If there is, then that person is more provincial than the music itself!"

After uttering the somewhat emotional statement in his husky voice, the 55-year-old man lit his second cigarette of the night, despite the telltale scar on his chest, a result of bypass surgery some years ago.

Meet Ahmad Rafiq, better known as A. Rafiq. One of the few remaining members of the very first batch of singers of dangdut, the popular musical form combining Indian and Arab influences. He is the one who still has the voice and stage act that can whip concert-goers into a frenzy and keep them that way all night long.

For him, dangdut has been the music of the country since day one.

"Not keroncong (the traditional Indonesian musical genre with Portuguese influences that is popular among Javanese), sorry. You go all around Indonesia and you'll find hundreds of dangdut bands led by people from various tribes, while keroncong, though it also exists everywhere, must have a band leader from Java."

Arrogant? Forgiven. His very first single, Pengalaman Pertama (First Experience), back in 1978 was a huge and long-lasting success, even remade by pop-icon Chrisye and loved by the hip hop-crazed MTV generation.

Flip on a local TV station nowadays, and chances are that you will come across a soft drink TV commercial that uses Pengalaman Pertama as background, with former MTV VJ Jamie Aditya prancing as he teases a girl with "naughty" eyes and a hand coyly covering her face. It's the signature, unmistakable stage act of A. Rafiq.

"See? I foresaw the trend 20 years ago. Dangdut will never be a pitfall, it knows only stability or growing popularity," he said.

Still, a reminder of his past before dangdut might leave a furrowed brow.

"Oh, yeah, in the 1960s, I was known as the Indonesian Elvis Presley, singing The King's songs in musical concerts in Surabaya."

Then, why the switch to dangdut?

"Because my cousin played the music over and over with his band next to my house. I got used to it, liked it and finally was eager to sing it," he said.

With his musical and theatrical experience, including as a member of the comedy group Srimulat in Surabaya from 1965, A. Rafiq decided to try his luck in Jakarta three years later, because, "I wasn't content just being a local act. I wanted to be a star".

Poor young Rafiq; at that time, music aficionados had their attention firmly fixed on Rhoma Irama, the newly crowned king of dangdut who put some rock into his songs and seemed unstoppable.

Thus, A. Rafiq's imitation of Elvis' hip-gyrating movements paired with a dangdut voice didn't sell. No producers came knocking.

"When people were consumed by the news of Elvis' death, I thought I had found the chance. I came to this music producer and told him that we could make bucks by recording the rendition of Elvis' hits.

"He looked at me and said 'No, you want a record deal, just stick with dangdut.'"

He did, and the producer was right. With Pengalaman Pertama, A. Rafiq the conquered local music industry, even toppling Rhoma from his position as the most famous dangdut singer in the country.

He continued with a string of three million-selling albums; Milikku (Mine), Pandangan Pertama (First Sight) and Cantik (Beautiful).

Meanwhile, dangdut -- with its catchy sounds of drums and flute -- slowly reached bigger audiences. From being additional entertainment at wedding parties in rural areas, since the 1990s the music has enjoyed red carpet treatment on TV, in hotels and at prominent concert arenas.

It has finally become mainstream.

Even better, dangdut is considered the savior of the faltering local music industry, for it continuously provides breakthrough performers who arm themselves with various crowd-pleasing tools, from erotic gyrations to shameless and laughable lyrics.

In other words, dangdut both satisfies and shocks everyone beyond belief.

Puffing on his third cigarette, A. Rafiq paused before commenting on the phenomenon. "When I said improving, it includes the downside. Since 26 years ago, I've been dancing with my own style on stage, but there was no condemnation up to today. Why? Because it's beautiful and there's explanation in every move I make.

"Young acts now move their bodies in the name of money and fame."

Well, isn't that what the dangdut audience loves about the music?

He answered with a sour smile, a shrug and few words about how the degradation was actually related to various social factors.

"As for me, I am responsible to provide the public with the best musicality, including musical performances and albums."

Up next is an album with Nelly Agustin -- carefully chosen for her minimal hip movements -- due out next month.

"I have a rather feminine vocal range, so the duets on the upcoming album are specially made to suit my voice," said the 1.7-meter tall man sheepishly.

This time, gone is the wild impression from the first minutes of our conversation. Instead, there is an aging yet enthusiastic musical maestro who is now admired by the young and has weathered the test of time, with his songs considered cool and danceable.

As the interview wound up, amid the smoke of cigarette number five, A. Rafiq still managed one last roar.

"I'll pay Rp 100 million to anyone who can prove that my signature stage act is copied from Bollywood movies."

Long live A. Rafiq.