How Thaikkudam Bridge turned Dubai arena into a red-mundu rock rager of Malayalam nostalgia for keralites in UAE

Dubai: Before Thaikkudam Bridge took the stage in Dubai, rhythm guitarist Ashok Betty Nelson made me a promise: “If you want to dance, if you want to listen to good melodies, come to our show. You will not be disappointed.”

Having now watched them in action at Coca-Cola Arena this weekend as a part of Thaalam Beats, I can confirm that he wasn't overselling it.

Their electrifying Dubai gig, organised by Marquee Events, was a joyous, high-energy rager, particularly for the Malayalis in the house who appeared to recognise familiar notes almost before they were played.

This was nostalgia served loud, with guitars, drums and a crowd that was more than willing to sing along. On stage, there was no attempt at carefully coordinated pop-star dressing either. Red lungis, black T-shirts, white shirts and jeans all made an appearance, and somehow the lack of uniformity suited a band whose entire musical identity has been built around refusing to fit neatly into one box.

What struck me most was how different it felt to watch them after interviewing Nelson before the concert. Many of the things he had spoken about, from the band's multi-generational appeal to the emotional pull of nostalgia, suddenly made sense when you saw an arena full of people responding to the music.

“I'd say it's, from what I've heard, the multilingual, multi-genre thing,” Nelson told Gulf News when I asked him about Thaikkudam Bridge's enduring appeal. Their concert audiences, he said, can range “from like four years to 80”, because there is “something there for anyone to enjoy”.

But he also acknowledged something more difficult to quantify: nostalgia.

“Something that reminds you of a better place, a better time that you associate with more, you feel emotional towards those things,” he said. “Thaikkudam Bridge has been, we are proud to say, that we do land in that category for some people, and we try to live up to that expectation every time.”

Watching the Dubai crowd, I understood exactly what he meant. For many Malayalis living away from Kerala, these aren't simply familiar songs. Music can become a shortcut to a place, a period in your life or even a version of home that exists mostly in memory.

It's safe to say that Thaikkudam Bridge have spent more than a decade rewriting the grammar of what a rock band from Kerala can look and sound like.

I found that there is a whiff of Guns N’ Roses-style rock-star swagger to them on stage, but the cultural vocabulary is unmistakably their own. They took Malayalam nostalgia, folklore, traditional sounds and memories of home and plugged them unapologetically into rock and metal.

Their visual language has been just as distinctive, from the vengeful Yakshi of Kalliyankatt Neeli to Navarasam, which turned its gaze on traditional art forms struggling for relevance. Long before Malayalam cinema became a global cultural calling card, Thaikkudam Bridge were showing that something deeply rooted in Kerala could travel without diluting itself for a wider audience. Perhaps that is their real achievement. They didn't try to become somebody else's idea of a rock band. They made the mundu, Malayalam and Kerala's cultural memory part of their collective identity.

Thirteen musicians and the art of managing egos

Thaikkudam Bridge started with 17 members and currently performs as a 13-member band, which naturally made me wonder how that many musicians with strong artistic opinions manage to coexist.

Nelson didn't offer the predictable answer about there being no egos in the band. In fact, he argued that some ego is necessary for an artist.

“I don't think there are no ego clashes, but everybody's matured enough to actually consider other people's ego also,” he said. “It's not that the ego does not exist. Ego should exist, I think, because otherwise you can't be a true artist.”

For him, the difference lies in respecting the person standing next to you and understanding “that the other person is there not to harm you but to support you”.

Watching them perform later, that comment stayed with me. With 13 musicians on stage, the show could easily have descended into a competition for attention. Instead, the individual personalities remained visible without overwhelming the collective sound.

When nostalgia needs to be handled with care

One of the things I have always enjoyed about Thaikkudam Bridge is its treatment of older Malayalam music. Reinventing a beloved song is tricky business. Push it too far and you risk destroying precisely what made people love it in the first place.

Nelson believes the starting point should always be respect for the original.

“The main trick is to actually respect the original work as much as you can,” he said.

Their breakout ‘Nostalgia’ medley gave beloved Malayalam film songs such as ‘Mandara Cheppundo’ and ‘Allimalarkavil’ a contemporary makeover, introducing old favourites to a new generation. More than a decade later, that instinct of taking something deeply familiar and reimagining it remains central to the Kerala band’s appeal.”

But rather than worrying excessively about what an audience might want from a reworking, he believes an artist should first ask why they themselves loved the original and try to preserve that quality.

“Art should never be a publicity gimmick,” he said.

That philosophy has also meant knowing when not to exploit a successful formula. After Nostalgia album became a hit, audiences naturally wanted more. Thaikkudam Bridge eventually made Nostalgia 2, but Nelson says it wasn't simply because people were demanding another instalment. The band felt the songs they had chosen were good enough to justify it.

When people subsequently asked for Nostalgia 3, they decided not to make it.

It's an interesting position in an entertainment industry that often responds to success by turning it into a franchise. For Thaikkudam Bridge, knowing when to stop appears to be as important as knowing when to play another note.