When club musicians fall, Danny Sandhu is there to catch them

Free Malaysia Today

7 days ago

Danny Sandhu (left) handing over the cash to cancer-stricken Johan Chong after the fundraiser last week. (Ice pic)
PETALING JAYA : Danny Sandhu has never played an instrument on stage, nor belted out a ballad beneath the glow of bar lights.
But ask any seasoned musician from Malaysia's club circuit, and his name brings immediate warmth and gratitude.
For the past four years, Danny, 65, has quietly taken on a role most wouldn't expect: a relentless fundraiser and friend to musicians and deejays in crisis.
From health emergencies to financial ruin, Danny, an events specialist by trade, has made it his personal mission to be there when the music stops, and the silence of hardship sets in.
'I just can't stand by when people who've given us joy are struggling in the shadows,' Danny said, his voice measured but resolute.
'They've played through the years for us, through heartbreaks, celebrations, quiet nights and loud ones. When they fall, we have to lift them.'
Danny's partner, Ice, is a singer in the local club scene, a window into the unseen struggles that many musicians endure.
Gigs are inconsistent. Pay is low. There's little to no social safety net.
Behind every soulful tune is often a story of sacrifice and resilience. Danny's proximity to this world spurred him into action.
Danny Sandhu has raised over RM300,000 for musicians, deejays, a kindergarten, and refugee communities. (Ice pic)
Over the past four years, Danny has helped raise close to RM300,000 for various causes, thanks largely to the generosity of financial institution ICAP Sdn Bhd, which has strongly supported his mission of compassion.
Of that total, ICAP contributed over RM220,000 specifically to assist club artistes, while Danny's friend, Justin Cheng, personally donated an additional RM50,000.
Danny's collaboration with ICAP also extended beyond the music scene.
A kindergarten run by the Canossian Sisters in Jinjang, Kuala Lumpur, received RM36,000, while ACTS (A Call to Serve) was given RM10,000 to support sick refugees and asylum seekers.
His most recent initiative hit close to home: veteran keyboardist Johan Chong Mohamad Chong, who formed a duo with Ice, was diagnosed with stage three cancer.
Last Friday, the Saints Bar in Taman Sri Hartamas filled with fellow musicians, patrons, and strangers-turned-friends.
The night raised over RM15,000, a lifeline for Johan's ongoing treatment, and the total now stands at about RM21,000.
'This isn't charity. It's responsibility,' Danny added. 'These musicians and deejays are part of our cultural soul. They deserve dignity, not just applause.'
It was in January 2021 that Danny helped launch 'Lend a Helping Hand' in collaboration with the Club Artistes' division of the Malaysian Artistes' Association (Karyawan).
The initiative was born from one simple belief: 'musicians, especially those who have little, must care for one another, and so must we.'
Danny recalled the early days of the campaign with quiet pride. 'It was a unique show of caring,' he said. 'Helpless musicians, still finding strength to support one another during the pandemic.'
ICAP's RM30,000 contribution at the time was a pivotal moment — a corporate gesture of humanity that, Danny hopes, will inspire others.
'I urge companies and captains of industry who love music, who've had great nights made better by great performers, to lend a helping hand,' Danny said. 'It makes all the difference.'
For decades, Malaysian club artistes have lived in precarity. Gigs are scarce, fees are stagnant, and there's no formal retirement or health care safety net.
Many have slipped through the cracks. The pandemic nearly broke the circuit altogether.
Though music associations such as Musicians for Musicians and Karyawan have held benefit events, the reality remains: support is often temporary, while need is constant.
Danny sees the gaps. He fills them, one fundraiser at a time.
'I'm not a musician. But I've seen their hearts. And when the gigs are gone, when the lights go dim, someone needs to stand in that space,' he said. 'That's why I'm here.'
He doesn't do it for thanks.
But if you ask those who've benefited, from guitarists sidelined by stroke to singers silenced by surgery, they'll say Danny is a rare person: a man who doesn't just love music, but truly honours the people who make it.
In a scene too often defined by hustle and heartbreak, Danny's presence is a reminder that compassion is its own kind of headline act.