The Juke Box

The Hot Spot Juke Box series of posts will highlight artists featured since we opened the doors to our first outlet in the 1990s.  The artists whose sounds have helped define our identity.

In those days, CDs had just edged cassettes as the mainstay of music listening, and we had one of those gadgets that would house 300 CDs and decided to share our quirky music taste with the world.  Why not!?

It was 1996, and Britpop was raging, something we generally welcomed.  Nirvana was the biggest thing in Pakistan (thankfully), and Pakistani kids were getting weaned off the bland sounds of U2, though you could only whisper statements like that for fear of being lynched back then.  In Pakistan, it was U2, Vital Signs and Junoon, low on deft musical skill but high on energy and verve.

We are generally open to all sorts of music genres, styles, and languages, regardless of which era it comes from.  We had decided that at least 90% of our Juke Box would be composed of music we would listen to by choice, and the rest of the 10% would grudgingly house music that we felt people generally loved, such as U2, Ace of Bass, Ed Sheeran, Adele.  We toyed with playing current chart-friendly songs before deciding it was insufferable and that we would rather go with our sounds and relish throwing out the kinds of music most Pakistani kids would be unfamiliar with but may go on to appreciate.

It was a thrill to have kids come up to us a few years later telling us they had first heard of a song they love at The Hot Spot by some obscure R’n’B artist lost generations ago.

It was strangely triumphant and heartening to have a 17-year-old boy selecting Aretha Franklin songs on the Jukebox or a kid get up off his seat to see who was belting out “Good Golly Miss Molly” aeons before Shazam was a thing.  It was perhaps even more thrilling to have grown-ups return to the shop years later to tell us about how we were their introduction to John Waters, Tobe Hooper, Brian De Palma, Exploitation Horror Z grade movies, or Cult Films.  If only the parents had known how corruptive an influence we were to a generation getting to grips with being free from the clutches of a spirit-sapping period of dictatorship.  Kids were looking to embrace a future of freedom they had never been allowed before.

It felt strange that it seemed such a novelty that we were thumping out funk and pop music in those days, not just because the music was often the wrong side of polite but partly because our kids had never been exposed to a wide range or style of music.  It was fun being the place where you would be left notes at the shop asking to identify songs.  Often songs that were up to 50 years old.  I was thrilled to watch teens playing songs by the Beatles or somebody deliberately asking to play an old Chaka Khan, Rick James, Evelyn King, Sylvester, Cameo, The Time or Afrikaa Bambaataa song they first heard at The Hot Spot.

So the idea of these “Jukebox Masters” posts is to salute those artists whose music has helped create our identity, the very DNA of The Hot Spot.

We will start with an artist who I can remember the exact moment of my life when I listened to for the first time and became entranced by the sounds coming at me from our old Grundig cassette Radio Player.  Waves of funk, layered unlike I had ever heard, synth popping like nothing else, guitars weaving a spell of dense funk.  Unbelievable, mesmerizing stuff.  Who the hell was this?  It was a hot summer afternoon, and the BBC were winding down through their Billboard top 40 hits of the week.  I caught the name of the artist.  Some guy called Prince and a song called “I Wanna Be Your Lover”.

In those days, American R’n’B artists’ records would be initially released in the US.  Depending on the artist’s commercial appeal, a UK release would follow a month to six months later.  If you were a lesser-known act, it could be that no label would pick up your music for release, and that was that.  Prince had signed with Warner Brothers, who were big players in the pop music business.  Later, I found he had already released an album we in the UK were completely oblivious to, and initially, the reception in the UK was somewhat sceptical and quite cold.  In the US, a following had been developing steadily, and the punk attitude attracted kids on the edge who didn’t quite conform.

The Dirty Mind record arrived like a stunning bombshell.  The record had people confused and polarized, especially in the US, where radio stations played music by very rigid genres, and it was all very black and white with very little space that the two shared equally.  Prince found audiences confused as to where to pigeonhole this act.  He didn’t fit any box.

Initially, the UK pop journalists scoffed at this “wanna-be disco act”, but the same writers changed their tune just a few years later, speaking of the same album as one of the groundbreaking records of the time.  Typical. 

Prince has and will always remain a giant in my life and the Hot Spot story, and hopefully, people who love genius will be playing his songs for a very long time to come.

The Hot Spot opened its doors; the music started playing, and it was time to learn to relax and soak up the vibe.

While Islamabad’s people started to assemble to create one of the most vibrant scenes in Islamabad on simple garden chairs and wooden benches, swatting away the odd mosquito, life was buzzing in a good way.  Young and old, different languages, races, all intermingling, no Agg, no edge, the occasional loon, but nothing nasty.  Meanwhile, some took things in their stride, others learned to do the same, and some were a little taken aback but soon learned to allow themselves to enjoy the moment.  Life is short; good music and food surely cannot be taken for granted.  Years later, it would have provided you with some of the best memories of your life.  Birthdays, Laughs, Friends, Growing up, Friendships, Bonds, Happy Days, heartwarming moments, Familiar faces, Good Times and, of course, ice cream you will long remember.  We can hope.

Meanwhile, The Hot Spot Jukebox pumped out the funk and the jams, causing the odd shocked expression and the occasional raised eyebrow, but people were learning to live and let live.  The Beat Goes On – The Whispers.

And the Jukebox played on with Prince kicking up a funk storm:
We don’t give a damn
We just want to jam, party up
(Party up, got to party up)
That army bag, such a double drag, party up

Revolutionary rock and roll
Goin’ uptown, baby, ooh
How you gonna make me kill somebody I don’t even know?
They got the draft, uh, uh I just laugh, party
(Party up, got to party up)
Fightin’ war is such a fuckin’ bore, party up

Here is to Chilling to Great Sounds, Great Food and creating a Good Vibe—kindness, Compassion, Freedom, Love and Peace.  Live and Let Live.