This former investment banker quit finance to make music for himself and his community

Vikas Kohli had an aptitude for numbers growing up in Mississauga, Ont. So, he pursued an honours degree in mathematics, adding an MBA and CFA later. Armed with an impressive resumé and outgoing personality, Mr. Kohli landed plum roles at elite investment banking firms in the U.S. and Canada. From the outside, it looked like success, but he couldn’t leave behind his deep love for music.

Today, Mr. Kohli is an award-winning film composer, music producer and the executive director of both MonstARTity Creative Community, a not-for-profit organization that runs concerts, workshops and mentorships for the South Asian community, and FatLabs, a music studio.

In this new series, Reimagining Wealth, we explore the evolving definition of wealth in today’s world. Here, Mr. Kohli talks about how he pursued a new vocation for himself – with a lot of planning and some serendipity too:

Tell us about your early career in investment banking

The very first job I held was as an accounting clerk. I was bored to death with the mundanity of the tasks. Next, I got hired by an actuarial firm in the U.S. as their software tester. It was great, but once the initial euphoria faded, I began itching for a fulfilling role in investment banking. So, I pursued an MBA.

After my MBA, I landed a job with JP Morgan Chase. Almost everyone in my MBA class wanted this job. To be honest, I didn’t but I wanted to see what the appeal was. I was pretty sure I would hate it. And sure enough, I did.

The recurring theme of my early career was: Can life be more interesting than this?

From the outside, it looked as though I had everything going on for me, but I didn’t see it that way. I didn’t want to be where I was.

When and how did your career swerve along a different path?

One day, a high school friend called to catch up. He was surprised I was working as an equity analyst. Apparently, I had told him that I would never have a desk job. He and I used to play in a punk band together. Hearing his words, I felt as though someone had roused me from deep sleep.

As I was talking to him, in my mind, I [envisioned] the trajectory of my life. There I was, sitting at a desk in a buttoned-down shirt and a silk tie. I remember thinking, ‘How did I get here?’

Later, when I mentioned the phone call to another friend, he said, if I could be successful in something I didn’t care about, imagine what I could accomplish if I pursued the thing I truly cared about. And that’s how my quarter-life crisis unravelled.

What happened next?

Once I decided to quit in my mid-20s, I started stashing my pay cheques. I also made financial projections of how many hours of overhead, billable hours and billing rate I would need to succeed as an entrepreneur.

In parallel, I started to learn about the music industry. I read books and magazines on studio designs, successful musicians and producers. I visited music stores, talked to producers about contracts and talked to recording engineers about microphones.

Eventually, I reached a point where I realized I couldn’t do anything music related as long as I was stuck at work. I had also begun to build a studio in the basement of my home at this point. One day, I knew it was time to take the crazy leap.

What was the transition to music like?

Initially, it was crazy. I had no idea what to do. I had no contacts in the industry, no network of musicians to reach out to and no mentors. But I knew how to write music and put on great gigs. A friend and I had recorded a full album in an analogue studio in the ‘90s and had financed it by preselling the copies. So, I knew I’d eventually figure it out.

The hardest part was drumming up business. I cold called, went out every night to gigs and ran promos at songwriter events to convince people to work with me. Eventually, I was booked solid.

Was pursuing music less stressful than investment banking?

It was more stressful. Getting a steady paycheque is monumentally easier than being an entrepreneur. When you start your own business, every problem is your problem.

But [music was] more meaningful, and fun as well. I worked hard and loved being in the studio creating songs and working with musicians.

What’s MonstrARTity and how did it happen?

I was invited to sit on the City of Mississauga’s grants jury and was blown away by the number of people keeping art alive and relevant. But I was also offended by how poorly taxpayer capital was allocated.

I spoke my mind and gave the city my return on investment (ROI) analysis on how to reallocate funding. I was certain I wouldn’t be invited again, but the next year, they asked me to build something for the city.

Given the changing demographics, I decided to launch BollywoodMonster Mashup (BMM), a community event to showcase local and global artists. Soon, we introduced other community initiatives such as [workshops and mentorship] programs for youth and seniors.

Any advice to others sitting on the fence about following their dream?

Do something interesting today, something that will give you a story to share with the people you care about. Do boring things as well, because the money I earned from my boring jobs allowed me to pursue my dreams.

When I was a teenager, I imagined myself on my deathbed taking mental stock of all the interesting and uncompromising ways I had lived my life. I didn’t know what those interesting experiences would be, [but] I wanted my life story to say, ‘He didn’t waste his time. He lived it fully.’

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