Grammy Winner Ricky Kej Finds Rhythm and Refuge in Bengaluru
"My roots lie in Rajasthan, but I am 100% Bengalurean," declares three-time Grammy award-winning musician and Bangalore Times Headliner 2026, Ricky Kej. For this globally renowned artist whose work transcends continents and cultures, Bengaluru represents far more than just a home base. It serves as his personal rhythm, daily routine, and ultimate creative refuge.
A Contained Life in the City
When Kej is in Bengaluru—typically six or seven days each month—his lifestyle remains surprisingly focused and contained. His time is divided between three primary locations: his professional studio, local movie theaters, and the airport. These established rituals within the city create a deliberate counterbalance to his expansive international worldview.
"I love movies, especially morning screenings," Kej reveals. "They are peaceful—the hall is almost empty, there are no distractions, and you can truly immerse yourself in the film." His dedication to cinema is so profound that he has attended countless early morning shows, including 7 AM screenings. Sometimes after working through the night in his studio until 5 or 6 in the morning, if there's a film he wants to watch, he proceeds directly to the theater without sleeping.
The Economic Realities of Modern Music Streaming
The musician highlights significant challenges within today's streaming economy, where revenue models demand staggering numbers to match what modest physical sales once generated. "I could sell 1,000 CDs at a show and make decent money," Kej explains. "Now, to earn the same amount, you need about two million streams. Even that comes with immense pressure. You have ten seconds. If it doesn't work, the song is gone. No one will even remember it."
He contrasts this reality with earlier eras of film music, where repetition through radio and television broadcasts allowed compositions to gradually grow on listeners over extended periods.
The Enduring Value of Physical Ownership
Despite digital dominance, Kej maintains a strong appreciation for physical media. "I still buy Blu-rays," he admits. "It may sound old-school, but I value owning films physically. Streaming compresses image and sound, and if you care about detail, you want the highest possible quality. Buying a Blu-ray represents a commitment—you watch the film properly, revisit it, and notice nuanced details. The picture and sound, especially the music and background score, are far superior."
His commitment to tangible artifacts extends to musical instruments. Kej possesses a substantial collection of analogue keyboards from the 1970s, some valued at over $20,000 today. After initially acquiring a few through conventional channels, he discovered that decommissioned ships with onboard performers often left instruments behind. A friend who dismantles ships for scrap now alerts him when discoveries occur. Kej restores these instruments and brings them to India, appreciating their unique warmth and character that modern equivalents cannot replicate.
A Meaningful Personal Connection
In 2024, while traveling through Bikaner, Kej stopped at a small tea shop where he encountered a Banjara woman singer wearing distinctive jewelry. One particular handmade brass earring, crafted by hammering a coin into shape, captured his attention. When he expressed admiration, she immediately removed it and gave it to him. This meaningful gesture inspired Kej to get his ears pierced specifically to wear the earring. Although he later lost the original piece while traveling, he now wears a similar brass creation inspired by that memorable interaction.
Social Media's Mental Health Consequences
Kej expresses serious concerns about social media's psychological impact. "I would attribute every single mental health issue to social media," he states firmly. "I believe social media has intensified anxiety, comparison, and unrealistic standards. Everybody feels everyone else is doing well. Nobody feels they are enough."
While personally active online to stay updated on cultural shifts and emerging trends, Kej strongly advocates for age restrictions and stricter safeguards, particularly for users under sixteen. He emphasizes that digital maturity should precede digital exposure.
The Algorithmic Transformation of Music
According to Kej, the most significant shift in contemporary music isn't genre, technology, or audience taste—it's distribution. "Gone are the days when we discovered music; now, music discovers us," he observes. "Algorithms, I believe, have changed not just how music is consumed, but how it is created."
He contrasts today's environment with earlier periods when listeners purchased albums, replayed them repeatedly, and built personal libraries, allowing songs to evolve and grow over time. "Today, a track must connect within seconds or risk being forgotten. Songs peak quickly and fade within months because platforms reward immediate engagement over slow appreciation."
Kej identifies what he calls the "Ravi Shankar syndrome"—where everyone recognizes the legendary musician's stature, yet few can name specific albums or compositions. "Why hasn't Spotify recommended even one of his songs to you? The issue isn't public ignorance; it's algorithmic bias. Marketing budgets and mainstream industries dominate recommendations, while nuanced, archival, or classical music is systematically sidelined."
Through his intentional lifestyle in Bengaluru, his critique of streaming economics, his appreciation for physical media, and his concerns about digital culture's psychological and artistic impacts, Ricky Kej offers a multifaceted perspective on contemporary creative life.
