M.S. Maniam -- the mystic disco drummer man
M.S. Maniam -- the mystic disco drummer man
Joseph Mangga
Contributor
Jakarta
The little Indian gentleman looks almost out of place --
bespectacled, over 50 years old and dressed in an orange-sequined
genie-like costume.
He sits patiently on a stool next to one of the most famous
and highly paid international DJs in the world, surrounded by
several thousand fashionable clubbers, all wildly bouncing to the
pounding house and trance music echoing throughout Singapore's
legendary Zouk discotheque.
Between his legs rests his beloved copper-plated djemba -- not
a traditional bowl-like Indian tabla (which he also plays
expertly), but a special hourglass-shaped drum of Egyptian design
with a sharper higher timbre, like a conga or bongo.
The DJ nods to Maniam, then the little man with the magic
golden fingers begins to tap away, in perfect flow and pitch with
the varied musical outpourings from the DJ booth.
The crowd visibly reacts, screaming "Go Maniam, go...!.", as
the speed and excitement of his solo builds, lifting the clubbers
to that coveted next higher level.
Beautiful women boogie up to his feet and play with his socks,
checking to see if they're really Versace. The club then goes
totally mental as Maniam's beats become an impossibly fast blur
of rhythm.
After more than 10 years at Zouk, jamming almost every weekend
with the world's most famed DJ gods -- like Paul Oakenfold, Danny
Tenaglia, John Digweed, Paul van Dyk and Sasha -- Maniam has
himself become something of a bona fide dance music icon as well.
So much so that he often has trouble walking along Orchard Road
in Singapore without someone recognizing him.
"I can't even go to Starbucks or Coffee Bean to drink coffee
sometimes," says Maniam. "People go, 'Excuse me? Are you the
percussionist at Zouk? Can I have a visit?' It happens like
that. But I am humble (and try to) be nice to everybody. They
are full of encouragement and say, 'Go for it man, you are now
there. The path is open for you...!'"
His astonishing occupation -- disco percussionist -- has to
qualify as one of the most unusual and enviable jobs on the
planet, but the beginnings of this path are even stranger still.
Born in Singapore in 1947, he was only six months old when his
grandfather noticed something odd about his fingers.
"When I was lying down asleep on the carpet, my fingers used
to always twitch and move. Always! After about a year they got
an astrologer (to) chart my future. (They said I would) either
become a criminal lawyer or a very great musician."
Of course, no one in his family saw much future in music, so
Maniam was steered toward academics and law. Then fate began to
intervene at the age of 15 when he was asked to play tabla at a
Hindu temple function when he really didn't know how.
"There was this guru -- a tabla guru -- who was in the back
(of the temple) listening to my playing. He approached and said,
'Where did you learn?' I said, 'I've never had any training.'
He said, 'What...! Are you sure? Without learning you are so
good?! '"
The guru immediately wanted Maniam to become his student, but
his father refused, until Maniam had finished his pre-college
studies. His father kept his word, and Maniam subsequently
studied under the tutelage of several local gurus.
Years later, one guru arranged for Maniam to meet the famed
sitar player Ravi Shankar -- who is credited with introducing
Indian-style music to George Harrison and the Beatles -- along
with his master tabla player, Ustad Alarakha.
"They came to Singapore to perform. I was just shivering! I
was thinking, 'My God, I'm meeting God!' Alarakha looked at me
and he touched my fingers, then I saw his pair of tabla lying
there. 'Do you want to try?', he asked me.
"I played just a small solo, and then he spoke to my guru in
Hindi. I couldn't understand. Later my guru told me, 'He says
you've got fantastic fingers. He says you're going to go
somewhere! You're going to be a great man one of these days!'
So I got both Ravi Shankar's and Alarakha's blessings!"
By the 1970s, Maniam had become a talented local musician and
was in hot demand, playing traditional Indian music for radio and
television, as well as later touring internationally with
multicultural dance and music ensembles.
"It was like a Chinese-Indian-Malay mix. (We'd even) play the
Lion Dance, and I'm the one solo player. If somebody asks me,
'Hey guy! You're fantastic! How come you can play (all those
styles) like this?' I say, 'Excuse me sir, I'm made in
Singapore!'"
Then one fateful evening in the early '90s, Maniam was asked
to play a live concert with Jacinta, a local female jazz and soul
singer whose albums he had performed on. The venue was Zouk.
"The boss there, he saw everybody applauding (and) is
thinking, 'What's this guy, playing with western music, using
ethnic instruments?' So he approached me and said, 'Do you like
to play house music?' And I said, 'No, sorry. Please leave me
alone.'
"Because at that time I was very straightforward. But he
said, 'Why don't you come tomorrow for an audition? You may like
it!' I halfheartedly said, 'OK.'"
The following day, Maniam got his first taste of house music,
as he jammed with Zouk's resident DJ at a sound check. After
playing for only eight minutes, the DJ abruptly stopped the music
and called the boss to the DJ booth.
"I was thinking, 'Maybe he is unhappy with my drumming?' I
couldn't hear, (but in) the console the DJ was saying, 'Oh my
God! Where did you get this man from?' Then the boss asked,
'If you don't mind, can you come Friday night and play with the
DJ?'"
On Friday Maniam played his first set, followed by the second.
Everybody loved it, and he was asked to come back on Saturday.
It was something totally new and exciting in the Asian dance club
scene! After two to three months, the clubbers were coming back
again and again just to see Maniam play, and hear how
extraordinarily his drumming enhanced the performance of a DJ.
Maniam explains: "You know what (some world famous DJs) tell
me? They say, 'Sh**, I've played with so many percussionists, in
UK and the States, man. Nothing clicks with me. So how come
with you we don't need to rehearse, no sound check, nothing? You
just come out and (it's) right. What's happening with you?
What are you, man?'"
These words take on a special mystical significance when one
learns that Maniam meditates regularly, and is a staunch devotee
of Shirdi Sai Baba, an Indian spiritual guru who passed away in
1918, and once proclaimed that all religions were "different
candles, each shedding the same light of God".
"His body's nothing now," says Maniam of Shirdi, "but through
the soul (he) wants to help the people, heal the people. Give
them lots of love. Bring peace (and) harmony to the world. So
before I play I'll always meditate. Get (his) blessings. When
people are very happy when I play, (what) I'm doing is healing
them through our playing.
"That means I don't play alone! I'm asking him to come into
me. Let's play together to heal the people! Please let them
listen to this music and let them heal. That half an hour is
pure energy coming out from me. This is what's happening!"
Since Maniam is Hindu, and such a naturally gifted musician,
we asked him if he thought he had been reincarnated.
Had he possibly been a tabla player in a former life?
He replied, "Thank you for asking such a beautiful question.
God bless you, I am...! I don't know all my past karma, (but)
in my last birth I might have been a temple musician, playing for
the Gods!
"Yes I am...!"
Besides his Zouk residency in Singapore, M.S. Maniam also
performs regularly in Jakarta at Musro Nightclub, Hotel Borobudur
(021-3842050).