WHEN Engelbert Humperdinck takes the stage in Bangalore on June 9, belting out golden oldies like The Last Waltz and There Goes My Everything, crooning the evening away as only he can, he will be the closest he has been in a long time to the city of his birth—Chennai.
‘‘I was 10 when our family moved to England. The India I knew was through the eyes of a child—colourful, fragrant, hot, and adventure-filled,’’ said Humperdinck in an email interview.
Humperdinck, 69, now on his first tour of the country, was born in Chennai as Arnold George Dorsey. His father, Captain Mervyn Dorsey, had been posted there as part of a division of the Royal Engineers, and the Anglo-Indian Dorseys lived—according to Chennai historian Randor Guy—in the city’s Royapuram area.
‘‘Royapuram at the time was a hub of Anglo-Indian activity,’’ says Harry Maclure, editor of a magazine called Anglos In The Wind. ‘‘His exact address is unknown, although we know that he lived in a big house on East Mada Church Road.’’ That very house, Maclure suspects, may have since been converted into a hospital for diabetics.
When Humperdinck was growing up, says Guy, ‘‘there were rumours floating around that once India achieved independence, all the Brits would be massacred. Silly rumours really, but because of them, many British citizens and Anglo-Indians went back to England.’’ The Dorseys stayed on till precisely 1947, after which they returned to Leicester, Mervyn’s hometown.
Humperdinck has never been forthcoming about telling the world that he was an Anglo-Indian, says Maclure. ‘‘I don’t blame him, though,’’ he says. ‘‘Around the time the Dorseys went back to England, Anglo-Indians were not looked upon too favourably. So, some people simply concealed their roots. Unfortunately, because of that, we don’t really know much about his childhood in Chennai at all.’’
Even when Humperdinck came to Chennai in 1984 to visit an old aunt in Perambur, he stayed under an assumed name at the Taj—a fact that Maclure knows purely because he happened to be working there at the time.
However, today the singer seems keen on maintaining a record of the land that he once knew. ‘‘I am making a behind-the-scenes video of this trip for the archives,’’ says Humper-dinck. ‘‘I will finally be able to show my children the wonder of India. Perhaps there will be just enough time to sneak in a side trip to Chennai.’’
While performing in India for the first time has its own highs, what did it feel like to have Jimi Hendrix open shows for him? ‘‘I remember that my lead guitarist fell ill just before a concert and Hendrix offered to play for me. I felt that he was too big a star to play with me, so he hid behind a curtain and played,’’ says the saxophonist-turned-singer.
And much before the King shook the music industry with his Jailhouse Rock, he looked up to the King of Romance. ‘‘He stole my sideburns and my musicians,’’ says Humperdinck, ‘‘But I didn’t really mind. We were great friends and sang each others’ songs. I still can.’’
Humperdinck expressed regret that he cannot perform in Chennai during this tour. ‘‘I did look around for venues in 1984, but I’m actually very proud to be just bringing my band of 13 to India. As a boy I only dreamt of having such a grand show and my audiences were usually imaginary or just my family. I used to sing under the coffee table or behind closed doors because I was shy.’’
The transition from closet singer to swaggering performer happened when he was 17. ‘‘I had struggled to make a mark as a saxophonist from the age of 11,’’ recalls Humperdinck. ‘‘One day, I was in a pub (it was illegal because I was underage) and didn’t know there was a contest. I saw lots of people getting up to sing, one after the other, and when my friends urged me to go up, I got up and sang.’’ Humperdinck won the contest, put down his saxophone and began his career as a singer.