The JazzMan Cometh

He’s got two projects in the running for Grammys, but that doesn’t mean that Louiz Banks is resting on his laurels. The musical journeyman still has miles to go, and still loves every note

His name is synonymous with jazz. In fact, a poster on a softboard near his studio or “den”, as he calls it, at his Santacruz home, has written on it — The Godfather of Jazz. That’s indisputable. 

From leading the hottest jazz band in the Calcutta of the 70s, and through a life in which he played music for Bollywood, composed ad jingles, wrote his own music and embraced fusion, Louiz Banks never lost touch with jazz. 

His career is an extraordinary musical journey that originated in Calcutta, and moved seamlessly to Darjeeling — where he was a class teacher, as well as music master — and then on to Nepal where he headed jazz bands, and Bollywood. These were all “turning points” that Banks is sure were “pre-ordained”.

But how did Louiz Banks, whose school certificate features his original Nepalese name - Damber Bahadur Budhapriti - play such a prodigious amount of music?

That’s perhaps because Louiz followed his heart. And early on, he was never a follower. His musical genes helped — like his father, he played trumpet and piano (his great-grandfather composed Nepal’s national anthem). His fertile home environment nurtured what was clearly to be an extraordinary talent.

Banks began to learn music at four. By 10, he’d entertain his mother’s friends: “Come, come, come, play the piano for us,” they’d say. In his teens, the Banks pere et fils played in a Darjeeling band, largely dance music for the swish tea garden set.

Then one day, his father gave him a record of Oscar Peterson, the jazz pianist. It was to have a lasting effect on young Louiz. From that day, he now recalls telling his father, “I want to play jazz”.

From there to Nepal, and back to Calcutta, Banks fashioned a career in jazz music, wisely taking all the chances that came his way. 

The most momentous of those, Banks now says, is when music director, RD Burman, heard him play at the Blue Fox nightclub in Calcutta. That night, he had an offer to play for Bollywood, but didn’t feel like taking it up. After all, film music was totally alien to him. Moreover, his life revolved around the city — his family, and his beloved band, the Louiz Banks Brotherhood. 

Then came another turning point that even Banks himself could not have predicted: In the late 70s, Calcutta was crippled by power outages. “We’d be playing and the lights just went out. It was frustrating.” Banks was very worried. What would happen if his beloved band went out of business? That’s when he and his wife decided to leave Calcutta.

Calcutta’s loss was surely Bombay’s and Bollywood’s gain. “Armed with my electric piano and Rs300 in my pocket,” Banks took the train to Bombay. His tryst with 
Bollywood began a day later. Banks was roped in to play backstage for Mukti, starring Shashi Kapoor as a pianist. Coming to Mumbai widened his horizons. “I was obsessed with jazz. It was Burman, my godfather, who opened my mind to new kinds of music,” he says.

Bombay changed Banks in more ways than one. Suddenly, he recalls, there was more money, creature comforts, car and house. “Back in Calcutta, we played for love. There was nothing in the bank, but we were happy.” Apart from Tinsel Town, Bombay introduced Banks to the world of ad jingles. It was a different kind of musical statement and one had to be really good, he remembers. His first foray was for an ad for the Four Square cigarette brand, where “Sharon Prabhakar sang”. 

Bombay life was hectic. Film recordings at the Film Centre in Tardeo in the morning, at lunch a jam session occasionally with other musicians, then on to composing ad jingles, sometimes three a day, and in the evenings, live music with a band. “I had no time for family. Even on my birthday, my wife and kids would visit me at the studio and bring a cake along.” 

Today, after close to 30 years in the city, Banks is doing all kinds of things. One project that is close to his heart is a book of piano exercises or etudes, dedicated to his father.

It is a part of what he wants to leave behind. Another is an album that he’s working on with his son, Gino, who has imbibed his “musical legacy”.

Gino and his musician pals hang around with Banks as they “rehearse together, make music today. I enjoy their company, it is so full of energy”.

Banks also still plays live, and is a part of three bands — one dedicated to fusion music, which, he says, gives jazz a new edge. “It is the music of tomorrow, it is more palatable and people can relate to it. Mainstream jazz is niche, and youngsters are not into it. So what I do is to camouflage jazz into hip hop, fusion, pop and rock rhymes; get jazz into their sensibilities.”

Banks is also keeping a close eye on the progress of two projects that he has been involved in, which his agent has said could be in the running for Grammys. As we speak, he crosses his fingers. The two projects are Floating Point — that also featured John McLaughlin — and the other is Miles from India, which is a tribute to the music of Miles Davis. It has a whole Indian element to it, he says.

I ask what he’d have been if he were not a musician, and Banks points to the paintings that adorn the walls of his living room. His one regret is not going to art school. “I taught myself to paint and am now trying to find my style,” he says.

Because Banks spends so much time with younger folk, he understands them probably better than others. “There’s a lot of talent out there,” he says, “But one has to work very hard.” 

His advice to young musicians is to never let money be a motivation. “If you are thinking money, forget about music.” He laments the fact that many youth do stereotyped music, make money and then get complacent. “One needs to aim for something higher,” he says.