All that Punk
When they last toured India in 2016, British ‘punk-jazz’ band WorldService Project was as impressed with the audience as the audience was with them. “We met people who dropped these references,” says keyboardist, composer and frontman Dave Morecroft. “[They said,] ‘Oh the first track reminded me of ‘Mr. Bungle’, the second track from the third album of Zappa. Then I heard a bit of Mingus and I love Weather Report. [They] just nailed the references. Even in the UK, it very rarely happens.”
The visit was so successful that WorldService Project, which currently also features bassist Arthur O’Hara, saxophonist Ben Powling, drummer Luke ReddinWilliams and trombonist Owen Dawson, will return to India for a six-city trek next month that will include a spot at the Jazz India Circuit International Festival in Goa on December 1. The group, named after the BBC World Service where Morecroft’s father once worked, is the kind that seems ideal for festivals. Their concerts, for which they appear dressed in British military suits— representing “disillusioned soldiers who’ve broken away from a platoon, fighting our own cause”—combine technical prowess with striking showmanship.
Fans can expect to hear a number of tracks from their recently released fourth album Serve at the performances, “the core elements” of which, says Morecroft, are “a high energy show with a theatrical edge to it” with “music that shifts between anthemic rock melodies through to more complicated, improvised sections with some solos”. And there’s always a story behind the music, indicated in the name of a song or explained by Morecroft to the crowd.
“I talk quite a lot compared to other bands,” he says. “It changes the way audiences interact with what you’re doing. We have a tune ‘Villain of the Aero-
plane’, which by itself [has] an amusing title but as soon as you [say] I wrote this because I hate low-budget European airline Ryanair, because they always charge us to bring instruments on the plane, they don’t look after the guitar, etc. [it] gives the piece a narrative rather than [it] just being sound.”
Another feature of their act is Mr Giggles, the creepy clown who represents the dark side of human nature and whom Morecroft transforms into with the help of a mask. The character, he says, has helped provide “one of the best moments we ever had at a gig” when they played at the Shisha Jazz Café in Pune two years ago. “[As Mr Giggles] I started creating a scene and crashing about and stood on this table with my shirt unbuttoned, the mask on, stuff I do normally,” he says. “It wasn’t anything special but then a woman ran to me—she was middle-aged, I think she was English— reached up and wrote the word ‘Evil’ on my bare chest, in lipstick, in giant red letters. Some people asked if I’d asked her to do it but it was impromptu; she just expressed how she was feeling.”
Getting such a strong response requires a fair amount of effort, says Morecroft, who frequently travels to India owing to his parttime job as an examiner for Trinity College London’s rock and pop department. The antics are “a full workout”, he says. “I probably lose between 600 and 700 calories per gig. It saves me a gym membership.”
—Amit Gurbaxani