Some legends are born. Some legends are made.
The world lost a truly great man. A beautiful soul. A man that was a leader. A sonic visionary. A family man. A son. A brother. A husband. A father. An unbridled spirit that was never chained by the shackles of convention. A savant and icon to whom these terms actually apply. A legend that epitomised humility, passion, perseverance, truth, and integrity.
He never minced his words. He fearlessly spoke his mind and called out all those who he believed were failing humankind. He did this without blinking an eye, criticising and chastising those that deserved it with his songs. Not with political or religious agendas, but a sincerity that exists in honest storytelling.
He rallied with those who were disenfranchised, those misfits of creative pursuits who never quite fit into any societal mould as it were. But this was never done with boasting or brandishing, but rather in his own way, in his own manner.
You often hear horror stories of the local music industry: The monopolising tycoons of media, those shot-calling entrepreneurs, some club and pub owners, and the top corroding brass of the secular scene that control every crack, crevice, and corner, who reward sycophants and bootlickers ascertaining nothing original and new emerges… But here was a man, along with his band who neither cared, tolerated, nor adhered to the cut-throat, good to the face, full Brutus and Cassius to the back behaviour of some. Meaning, he did not concern himself with industry politics and pampering of egos – he respected his peers, he valued other genres of music as he did his own, and he never turned his back to helping an up and coming artist. Perhaps because he never forgot his roots and their own struggle to carve a place of respect in an industry of a country that preferred duplication to crafting something original.
We’ve heard stories propping up of how he had a truly charitable heart – how he was a philanthropist who did for others and never spoke about it aloud.
Sunil Perera will be remembered for his multifarious achievements. As a world-class performer. As, perhaps, the greatest entertainer of our isle. A vibrant force of unharnessed power, raw finesse, and star quality that has been widely mimicked. His influence enormous, his impact incomprehensible.
In more ways than one, a big part of my storytelling journey in sonic rhyme and reason along with that itch to entertain had something to do with this man.
I shall not feign to have collaborated or have known him personally, or share photographs and selfies with him to satiate my vanity. I can only tell you what he meant to me and Stigmata, and how we perceived him to be and knew of him, having been in the originality movement ourselves for over two decades.
I have always been quintessentially inspired by western performance arts and culture, latching onto cartoons, comics, films, and, of course, the music of the ‘80s. I am not going to deny that. My appreciation for Lankan originality is something that grew only much later on.
But as a kid, the music of The Gypsies had a sort of universal appeal where it was just mad fun, witty, and magical. From a kid’s perspective, it had appeal. But that’s the thing about great storytelling and the universal power of song, rhyme, and reason. When created from an honest place with passion and determination, it resonates with any demographic of any age, any soul that values an uplifting beat, a moving cadence, energetic rhythms, and lyrics that are wrapped in rhetoric with laces of jocularity, often dealing with topics that few others would dare tackle.
I think the amazing thing is that Sunil’s music surpassed the peripheries and confines of judgment and prejudice, where it would touch and move you, and rope you in regardless of race, gender, social status, and musical preference.
That’s a powerful thing.
He never set out on a heroic cash cow venture to exploit fans and manipulate his audience with gimmicks and marketing strategies. He wanted to entertain. He knew he was great at it. And he worked at it his entire life to become a pro of all pros. True he may have had his vices, but show me a creative person who is true to his or her craft and passionate about it with total eccentricity and zeal who does not have a vice or two themselves – and never ever played out his fans and following. He always gave value for the buck, but with something more.
Watching him perform was mesmeric for us as a band. Stigmata in our own way have etched our little place in the fabric of our nation, I shall say this without any contention, nowhere near Sunil’s mammoth contribution. But watching him perform, observing every nuance and aspect of the show, you realise the sheer investment and commitment of this man to give value to his audiences. In fact, it was something much more… People would forget their troubles, woes, and misery for those few hours and escape to a place where life ought to be celebrated, lived to the fullest, and even made fun of, without taking things too seriously. When Sunil and Co. wrapped up a show, people would leave with an out-of-body experience, feeling good about themselves. He made people as stiff as a brick tap their feet and forget about maintaining appearances, and empowered them to simply let go and enjoy themselves.
That there is magical.
It is a lesson Stigmata long embodied in our own performances – to always give our best and something more to any crowd we perform to, whether they are fans or not. And if we fail and fall short, to pick ourselves up and work towards a milestone performance for the next show, playing every gig like it were our last.
I attribute a large part of this to Sunil.
From Oye Ojaye to ලුණු දෙහි, to Uncle Johnson to කුරුමිට්ටෝ… It’s among my earliest memories being three or four years old hearing The Gypsies music, seeing their music videos on TV, and just being transported away to some faraway place where the world they created was now the world you could revisit, if so you chose and call it your home. I love that about heavy metal and rock. But I love that The Gypsies availed that to peeps of all ages as well. It’s wicked, wild, and fun. All the stuff that’s slowly been squeezed out of entertainment because some idiot somewhere is being offended, and some new form of cultural appropriation is born in this brave new overly sensitive world.
While we had crossed paths on a few occasions at events and functions, I was blessed to meet this man while organising a gig for Stigmata a few years ago with Natasha and Damitha Rathnayake.
I never imagined I would have an opportunity to see his home studio and spend a bit of time at his abode talking to him. It just so happened that I was at the right place at the right time.
His humility, humour, and sincerity was infectious, proving that the greatest stars are often the most down to earth.
I was even more surprised when he recognised who I was and said some motivational and soul-igniting things about Stigmata that made me realise that the greatest Sri Lankan entertainer to grace our isle regarded and respected what we did – and that will always be a career highlight for me as a singer, lyricist, performer, entertainer, and storyteller.
What he said was: “Putha, life isn’t only about making money. Keep doing what you boys are doing. We need more artists like you.”
It’s the words of very few people I have ever met that have moved forests, mountains, and archipelagos within me.
Sunil may never know how much his words mattered to that brat of three or four years old, who ran around in his jungies belting out ලුණු දෙහි and කුරුමිට්ටෝ.
How much Stigmata’s 21-year journey has been full of tragedy, hardship, loss, and a war to push against the shove and crush the proverbial conventional grind… Yet, how Sunil’s words made me realise we truly have been doing something right and, more importantly, something meaningful.
May you rest with the greatest ????
You've touched so many lives that your voice and legacy will live in our nation’s bones forever. I know you’ll be in Stigmata’s DNA until eternity itself fades.
Suresh de Silva is the frontman and lyricist of Stigmata, a creative consultant and brand strategist by profession, a self-published author and poet, thespian, animal rescuer, podcaster, and fitness enthusiast.
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication.