Having attended Deep Purple&rsquos &lsquoBattle Rages On Tour&rsquo in 1995 (their first appearance in India), the prospect of attending another Purple gig nearly two decades later didn&rsquot seem that exciting. Gillan, Glover, Paice and Morse hadn&rsquot gotten any younger. However, what got me hooked was the venue &mdash Kleine Scheidegg, with the backdrop of three spectacular Swiss peaks Jungfrau, Eiger and Monch This wasn&rsquot just open air this was Snowpenair I had heard of music festivals in rainforests and secluded islands, there was Burning Man in the Nevada Desert, but a high-altitude music show on snow, hell this was new&hellip
Interlaken, that scenic tourist destination located &lsquobetween the two lakes&rsquo (Thunersee and Brienzersee named after the lakeside towns of Thun and Brienz) was buzzing with tourists. Travellers from around the Bernese Oberland had congregated at Interlaken Ost railway station. The narrow gauge railway breezed past quaint stations like Wilderswil and Schynige Platte to Grindelwald. We hopped on to the connecting Wengernalpbahn train. Soon, Alpine meadows flecked with snow were transformed into an endless sea of white as we pulled into Kleine Scheidegg.
We disembarked, inhaling the cool and crisp mountain air. The setting was like a Mondrian painting &mdash blotches of red, yellow, blue, green and orange of fluorescent ski clothing against the white snowy expanse. At 13,842 ft, Mount Jungfrau (the Virgin) stood shoulder to shoulder with the Monch (the Monk) at 13,449 ft. As the gates opened and people stomped down to the arena, we slip-slided our way to the VIP enclosure. Unlimited wine and starters got us into the groove as the Lewis-Bowie-Hammer Band took centre stage. Sharon Lewis, the Big Momma of Soul, belted out 'R-E-S-P-E-C-T' with Joseph Bowie on the trombone and Michael Hammer hammering away at the drums.
After a dose of Southern style R&B and numerous references to Ganja, it was time for the local musicians to take over. Marc A Trauffer got the crowd to sing and sway along to &lsquoBrienzer Buurli&rsquo (Boy from Brienze) and &lsquoNit min typ&rsquo (Not my Type). It seemed we were only the klutzes who didn&rsquot know the words to the songs. But the music was infectious and catchy. Then it was Gola&rsquos turn to rock the house. The tattooed musician with a shiny pate whose rags-to-riches story from being a carpenter to a rockstar was legendary.
To a world that thought Swiss music was just about Alpenhorns, cowbells and yodelling shepherds, these new artists were giving a definitive voice to the nation. Despite Montreux&rsquos association with its iconic Jazz Festival, Swiss rockers were still a rarity on the world stage. Finally, Deep Purple came on. It was an epiphany seeing the ageing rock stars in Switzerland, a country that had unintentionally given them one of their biggest hits and the most recognisable guitar riffs ever &mdash 'Smoke on the Water'.
In 1972, when some joker with a flare gun burnt down the venue at a Frank Zappa concert at the Montreux Casino complex, the band members watched the scene from their room in The Grand Hotel just across the lake Soon the Kleine Scheidegg arena transformed into a Japanese karaoke bar as people mouthed the lyrics&lsquoWe all came down to Montreux, on the Lake Geneva shoreline...&rsquo with nationalistic pride. It was as if they were singing the Swiss national anthem But this time there was nothing to fear &mdash no mad arsonist, no rattan ceiling, just the shadow of the peaks and the blue sky above. As a man swayed recklessly with his lit Zippo, I only prayed there would be no Deep Purple song in future called &lsquoWe all came down the Glacier&hellip'