Yesterday, the Malaysian music scene buried yet another star — guitarist, singer and composer Paul Ponnudorai passed away at the young age of 51, leaving behind family, friends and scores of fans to mourn their loss. Undoubtedly the most enigmatic and multi-talented musician to emerge from the local music scene in the past few decades, Paul has spent the bigger part of his career based in Singapore.
A small town boy originally from Ipoh, Paul was the youngest in a musically- inclined family that was constantly immersed in the activities of their church. Learning to play the guitar by the age of six, he was an exceptionally gifted child. His brother Sam recollects an occasion during local talent show Bakat TV, when the then nine-year-old Paul correctly picked out a missing chord by one of the other performers.
“That was his ear, his talent,” Sam said in the eulogy at Paul’s funeral. Bakat TV was a talent show he would eventually win, and when he couldn’t pursue the literature degree he initially wanted he turned to music instead.
Testing the waters at the bar his elder brothers had begun to perform at, Paul soon found his sound and never looked back. Paul grew to be defined as a consummate musician, a hard worker and an intensely loyal friend, developing a distinct playing style and a voice that was as Malaysian as it was from Nashville or New Orleans.
His abilities led to partnerships with local musicians like the late Sudirman Arshad, who graciously credited his win at the 1989 Salem Asian Music Awards in London to Paul, the guitarist and lyricist for the winning One Thousand Million Smiles.
Paul also played for jazz singer Sheila Majid’s most iconic album, Lagenda, which was released in 1990. His talent on the guitar spread far and wide, and among his audience were artists like jazz trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, drummer Billy Cobham, percussionist Steve Thornton and vocalist Bobby McFerrin.
They were attracted to this diminutive guitarist — known for his long locks of curly hair just as much as his soulful music — because of the way he would make his music speak. Musical interpreters are a dime a dozen, but what Paul had was an unusual ability to deconstruct a piece of music and reassemble it with a completely different soul.
He found delicate nuances to Stevie Wonder’s Superstition that made it even more complex than the original, and worked around the distinct Latin flavours of Carlos Santana’s Black Magic Woman to give a jazzy feel. That was his Midas touch. Adoring fans have uploaded some of his music on YouTube.com, and even on grainy unprofessional recordings you can hear his unforgettable and unmistakable guitar playing, intricate and precise beyond what most musicians are capable of.
Watching him play live is an experience to be savoured, as Paul may have been talented but he genuinely loved the music he made and was at his best before a truly appreciative audience. By the time Time magazine had called him “quite possibly the greatest musical interpreter of our time” in a 2007 article, Paul had become a household name.
Although based in Singapore, he would come back to KL on occasions and the buzz preceding his arrival would reverberate through the live music circuit like wildfire. It would just be him, his guitar and a microphone, but the music he made and the personality he infused into every note was of a truly legendary quality.
As talented as he was, Paul’s music wasn’t the particularly commercial sort. Together with musician Allan Perera, Paul was behind Suara, a 1988 album that featured a collection of ballads to mark the 40th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. His own album Just in Time was released in 2005 and didn’t really make any major album charts, but that wasn’t a measure of his own success — at least, not one he took seriously.
Being able to sing and perform was his true calling, and that’s what kept him going till an illness caused him to stop. While his health failed, his spirit never dimmed. During his funeral, his family — led by troupe of his adoring nephews and nieces — staged a fitting tribute to their loving uncle, who continuously inspired their love for music and the church. Paul’s deeply spiritual nature and love for God was exemplified during the service. Family members performed his favourite hymns, rearranged very much the way Paul himself would have sung them.
Full of joy and colour, they were performed with such heartbreaking sincerity and love that it left not a single dry eye, nor any foot unable to stop tapping. Musical tributes also flowed from old friends and fellow musicians who have shared a stage with Paul in the past — Perera, Kenny Tan, Richard Yap and Errol D’Cruz, sang to their old friend, filling the room with the same rapturous music that Paul so dearly loved.
The funeral parlour was simply too small for the huge crowd that turned out in support and affection for Paul, just like his talent seemed simply too big for the world he was born into. There is a huge Paul-sized gap in Malaysian music that will never be filled again as we bid goodbye to a man and a musician who is gone too soon.