Description

The first thing you notice about Raman Iyer is his hair—a cascade of silver-grey waves that falls to his shoulders, paired with an equally unmistakable moustache and an easy, dimpled smile. Dressed in a long-sleeved button-down shirt, saxophone resting comfortably in his hands, he looks every bit the musician Bengaluru has come to know as "Saxman." Yet spend a little time with him and it becomes clear that the saxophone is only one thread in a much larger story.

A fourth-generation Malleswaram resident, Raman has spent decades moving between worlds. Entirely self-taught on the saxophone, he has performed at over 3,500 events across India and abroad, played everything from jazz standards to Carnatic melodies, managed hundreds of events, counselled people recovering from addiction, and quietly built a life around service rather than spectacle. Having overcome addiction himself more than three decades ago, he now helps others find their way with the same empathy that shapes his music.

What ties these seemingly different worlds together is a quiet philosophy of staying grounded. Whether he is talking about jazz, counselling, Malleswaram, or ‘What a Wonderful World’—the song he returns to time and again—his thoughts always circle back to the same belief: life will always have its highs and lows, but losing yourself to either is the real danger. Music, for him, is less about performance than about presence; less about applause than about making a genuine connection with the people in front of him.

As Raman played during the interview, his husky, Shadow, joined in with an enthusiastic howl, creating an unexpected duet. It was a fitting reflection of his philosophy: music is at its best when it creates a genuine connection. Even after decades of performing, that connection—and the impact it leaves on the listener's psyche—remains what drives him.

Edited Interview

Can you paint us a picture of who you were before you became "Saxman"?

I've been a saxophonist continuously for the past 25 years. Before that, I played from around 1978 to 1985, then stopped for about 12 years before returning to music.

I started playing the saxophone when I was around 17 or 18. The challenge back then was that there were almost no saxophone teachers. We had a music teacher in school who introduced us to music, but he didn't teach the saxophone. So when I wanted to learn, I had no one to guide me. I became completely self-taught.

You are a self-taught musician. Could you tell us more about that journey?

Being self-taught meant constantly searching for information. There was no internet or YouTube. You had to find books, listen to records, or learn from anyone passing through Bangalore who knew the instrument.

It takes longer. What a teacher might show you in two months could take four or five months to discover yourself. The advantage, however, is that you retain concepts very deeply because you've found them on your own.

Today, many students rely entirely on YouTube or AI. Those are useful tools, but I still believe some direct guidance from a teacher is important. Technology can supplement learning, but it shouldn't completely replace it.

Did you ever want to do anything else growing up?

Nothing was really planned. My journey into music happened very organically.

After I stopped playing in the late 1980s, my interests shifted. My mother and I ran a nursery school and daycare called The Child here in Malleswaram. Many children studied there over the years, including actress Deepika Padukone when she was very young. We focused on giving children a good foundation.

Later, I studied management, worked in antiques and restoration, and eventually moved into event management. Music was always there, but it wasn't something I consciously decided would become my career.

Have you lived in Malleswaram your whole life?

I'm a Bangalorean, although I've spent time in many places for work and music. I've lived in cities like Surat, Patna, Indore, England, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Vietnam and Scotland.

Despite opportunities to settle elsewhere, Bangalore has always been home—especially Malleswaram. It has deep roots. Many families here have lived for generations. I'm a fourth-generation Malleswaram resident, and my daughter is the fifth generation.

When did you decide music would become your profession?

There wasn't a conscious decision. After school I was playing guitar with friends, then I picked up the saxophone. Someone invited me to perform, then more opportunities came along. It all happened naturally.

My father was a chartered accountant and my mother had studied economics, so music wasn't something anyone in my family had pursued professionally. They were supportive, but my father would often tell me, "If you take up the saxophone, we won't be able to guide you because none of us have walked that path."

I never worried too much about what other people thought. I simply enjoyed playing and kept going. We even formed a small band in those early days. My first public performance was with that group at Cluny Convent, where we played instrumental music by The Ventures

Who were your biggest musical influences?

Paul Desmond was a major influence. Later, Kadri Gopalnath in India, and Western jazz musicians like Stan Getz, John Coltrane and Charlie Parker.

I still listen to all of them today.

What do you love most about jazz?

One reason is the freedom. Jazz gives musicians space to improvise in ways many other genres don't.

The second reason is its history. Jazz emerged from people who often had very little freedom in their own lives. Music became their way of expressing pain, hope and emotion. That emotional depth has always attracted me.

Over time jazz absorbed influences from many cultures—Latin music, European classical traditions, and even Indian music. That's one of its greatest strengths. It continues to evolve while remaining open to new ideas.

Do you compose your own music?

I've composed for advertising jingles and contributed ideas while recording for Kannada films, where I was often given freedom to improvise.

Most of my professional work, however, has been performing. I play everything from jazz to film music, Carnatic and Hindustani melodies, depending on the occasion.

I'd still like to record an album someday. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time, but it requires both time and resources.

How did you get into event management?

I studied event management and eventually organised nearly 300 events across different fields, including educational, medical and recreational programmes.

It's certainly stressful because there are so many variables. But when you understand the process, the stress becomes manageable. Education gives you a framework for solving problems instead of simply reacting to them.

How did you become interested in counselling?

I've always felt a sense of empathy towards people. While performing, I often noticed how audiences responded emotionally to music.

That eventually led me to study counselling, addiction treatment and psychiatry. I also completed a master's degree in alternate medicine. Today I counsel people regularly, particularly those dealing with addiction.

Interestingly, many people who know me as a musician don't know about my counselling work, and many of my counselling clients don't know I'm a musician. I've always kept the two worlds separate.

You've met so many people through music, counselling and event management. What's one lesson that has stayed with you?

Humility.

You may become successful, earn money or gain recognition, but humility has to remain underneath everything. There will always be things you don't know or can't do.

Since you do so many different things—you're a musician, counsellor, professor and event manager—what does a typical day look like?

Every day is a little different, but my mornings are always the same. I begin with yoga, breathing exercises and prayer. I believe everyone, regardless of religion, should spend some quiet time each morning connecting with something greater than themselves. It helps you stay grounded in a world that is often full of stress, conflict and constant noise.

Music is also part of that grounding. Every morning, I play my saxophone at home, often interpreting traditional ragas. It's a form of self-care that centres me before the rest of the day begins.

Beyond music, I also spend time organising events and counselling people recovering from addiction. Every day brings a different combination of those roles, which keeps life interesting.

Was there ever a time you wanted to walk away from music?

The biggest break came in the late 1980s when I stopped playing for about twelve years because my priorities changed.

Looking back, I could have made more music during that period, but I don't see it as a regret.

During COVID, live performances disappeared. While that was difficult professionally, it also became an opportunity to reconnect with my family and spend more time practising music, exercising and reflecting. It reminded me how important it is to make time for yourself rather than living only for work.

After all these years, what still excites you about performing?

Every audience is different. Most of the people who hear me play don't know me beforehand, so every performance is a fresh challenge. When I arrive at a venue, I first try to understand who the audience is and what might draw them in.

I've always had a sense of empathy for people. Sometimes, even while I'm performing, I'll notice someone in a particular mood and instinctively change the music to connect with them. I'm not just a musician—I'm also an entertainer.

For me, simply playing isn't enough. The music should leave some impact—through the ears, through the eyes, and ultimately on the psyche. Instrumental music communicates differently from songs with lyrics, and creating that unspoken connection is what continues to excite me.

A Favourite Musical Memory

One of the highlights of my jazz career was playing with orthopedic surgeon Dr. Thomas Chandy and our band, The Jazz Revivals. We met when I was performing regularly at a jazz venue in Bangalore, and he invited me home to start a band. For the first six months, it was just the two of us practising. Then we gradually brought in a keyboardist, bassist and drummer.

We rehearsed every Tuesday and, over the years, performed around 500 concerts together. We had musicians of all kinds and, like any band, different personalities, but we stayed together for nearly twenty-five years. After Dr. Chandy passed away, I realised just how special that journey had been. Holding a band together for that long was an achievement in itself, and those years remain one of the high points of my jazz career.

A Favourite Performance

There was one show where they said there were nearly eight lakh people in the audience. I didn't play for very long, but when I did, it was very noticed. That's probably one of the biggest performances I've been part of. 

Is there something you still hope to do?

I'd still like to produce an album that brings together everything I've learned over the years.

Because I've played jazz, Indian classical music, film music and pop, I'm still searching for the right concept that can bring all those experiences together.

You've performed What a Wonderful World many times. After everything you've experienced, what makes the world wonderful?

The song itself has a beautiful history. It was written by members of America's majority community but became iconic through Louis Armstrong, whose life reflected a very different experience. While many people initially dismissed the song, Armstrong embraced it, and audiences around the world connected with its message.

To me, What a Wonderful World is about perspective. Even when life isn't going well personally, you can still choose to recognise the beauty around you. Good times and bad times are both temporary.

Pain and suffering shouldn't exist for their own sake—they should lead to growth. Much of society's progress has come through people overcoming hardship. Music works the same way. It continues to evolve, adapt and absorb new influences, which is why jazz still remains meaningful to so many people today.