Remember last year’s drubber Da-da-da-da-dilli? (No One Killed Jessica) This year its Aami Shotti Bolchi…Kolkata you’re sexy, which is Kahaani’s jet-landing screechy arrival song.
What’s common to these two city odes? Bidda Balan!
Kolkata’s nightclub chanteuse Usha Uthup amps up this jazz-heavy metal number with apocalyptic lines miming the present socio-economic rut of the city. ‘Strong hai, powerful hai, phir bhi lachaar hai…bilkul naya hai phir bhi beete kal mein giraftaar hain.’
Chikni Chameli is the first track that is going to blast off your music system. If not that, (who’s buying music cd’s these days?) haven’t you noticed how the video was steam rolled on youtube before the music hit stores – if anything, the guys at Dharma Productions want a viral upsweep – you have ‘seen’ before you can ‘hear’ – meaning, the bountiful curves of Ms Kaif is anodyne music to your senses.
Chikni Chameli should be a rage like most other viral videos and it does not matter if the song is trashed as ‘overplayed’ when the local religious festivities come around and we move on to the next ‘item number’ to navigate our processions through bustling market squares. First there is familiarity, later contempt. Such a thing as over-sell.
Shreya Ghoshal is finally taking risks in her selection of songs, moving from dulcet playback (like Lata di) to some hot blooded oomph (Oh la la, The Dirty Picture) and this isn’t just to break stereotype – just listen to her rendition of Chikni Chameli – there’s an assertive ‘throw’ – a je ne sais quoi that’s coming about in the tonal quality of her voice not naturally associated with her bashful style. ‘Pauaa chadha ke gaayi,’ is what best can be surmised from her frolicsome titter at the end of this loud, celebratory song.
O Saiyyan, Roop Kumar Rathod’s dirge is accompanied by some very beautifully orchestrated layering of piano, drum, santoor, violins, chorus – here’s a sweep where a sweep should be but it does not rise above the song’s theatrical trap – that confine when heard inside a theatre sounds good, outré outside.
So here goes my first post. Thanks to Suprabh and Rohit for giving me posting rights as soon as I asked for it. I am going to mostly post my favourite songs even though I dont really know anything about music except that my best days are spent listening to them.
Been listening to this song all day and by the end of the day I am sure it goes into my “All time favourites” list.
Nusrat Sahab is of course no stranger to any of us, he is one of the most recognized musicians of contemporary times and probably the biggest master of Qawwali music, and this song shows exactly why.
Kaakha Kaakha (the Tamil original) of which Force is a hindi remake was previously remade in Telugu (Gharshana) and Kannada (Dandam Dashagunam).
Kaakha Kaakha’s Rammstein inspired meta-charged track Uyirin Uyirae becomes Cheliya Cheliya in Telugu which is equally frenetic, a sappy Marali Marali in Kannada, and now, Khwabon Khwabon in Force amps it back vaingloriously.
The one time that the track faltered was when Kannada music composer V Harikrishna was asked to step in for Harris Jayaraj. Marali Marali is a clumsy patch on an original Harris Jayaraj number.
If the first hook of Rabba Main Toh Mar Gaya Oye tends to veer you into Teri Ore (Singh Is Kingg) then you’ll just have to brush that bit under the velvet carpet. How much more originality will you squeeze out of a man who’s been consistently scoring on the chartbuster treadmill – as many as 15 films to his credit this year alone.
Then, when Rabba Main Toh…reaches a crescendo in the line ‘Ab jaon kahan pe…dil ruka hain wahan pe…’ where it begins to sound like Upar Khuda Aasmaan Neeche (Kachche Dhaage), thereafter tumbling and segueing back into familiar groove.
It’s ho-hum to find Pritam’s inspirations not consuming him – he relapses into his own tunes – no surprise that Rabba Main Toh sounds a wee bit like Aaj Din Chhadhya (Love Aaj Kal). Newbie Shahid Mallya’s light-footed rendition is as pleasant on the ears as the murmuring sound of stone skipping water on a silent lake.
We did, and there’s no music like Yash Raj music. This film might come and go, but the music, will stay. Take for instance the film’s title track – Mere Brother Ki Dulhan – from the very first strain of bagpipes to the chorus chanting ‘Mere Brother Ki Dulhan’ to inoculate us, followed by hinglish lyrics, ‘Matrimonial si aankhen…’ everything stands for a formula that Yash Raj has patented – if the dhol beat on this track does not remind you of the crazy loop of Jhoom Barabar Jhoom – then you’re surely not following the Yash Raj format. Soon enough, something else will come up, reminding you where you first heard a similar dhun.
Neha Bhasin’s stress on the word ‘issshqqq’ to push for her Dhunki, gives her rendition that much needed spunk – the rock-pop-grunge arrangement is again, formulaic, save for her voice doing the gruff, as we see Katrina Kaif jangling a guitar, stomping her feet in the music video – achieving for the song a collaborative triumph.
Choomantar in Benny Dayal and Aditi Singh Sharma’s voice, mixes hip-pop and a show-girl interrupting with her ‘baby ooh, baby aah’ twaddle talk – and why does the word ‘choomantar’ have to be broken down in three very pronounced syllables to adapt to the hip-hop metre – it gives the song a childish, nursery rhyme patina – abracadabra this one please, at play school, yay for the baccha party.
The title track of Bodyguard begins with banter between two Bambaiyya characters discussing the prospect of a new film by this name. ‘Hero kaun hain uska?’ one asks the other. This infuriates the fan boy, who packs a punch, ‘Teri …’ smashing the punter’s delicate body part. Salman Khan arrives, announcing, ‘Mujh par ek ehsaan karna, ke mujh par koi ehsaan na karna.’ Dude has said it, so no mercy thereon.
The title track dwindles into Wanted-Ready dhinchak territory; self congratulatory and saviour of all things loud. Had the chorus on the track been warbling, ‘Aao ji, aao ji, kha lo bhajjya pao ji, khila raha hai dekho bodyguard’ instead of ‘Aao ji, bao ji, dil se dil milao ji, aa gaya hai dekho bodyguard,’ we’d still be shaking our obedient tush, because Salman bhai is shaking his. Does not matter what the words are, as long as masses can be made to do the drill, Sallu style.
The next track, credited to guest composer Pritam is I Love You – sung by Ash King, a wannabe uber-cool mushy ballad that should be your morning alarm tune. Reassuring to know something wakes you up with a cuckoo affectation. Aww sweety. Sleep with a hammer under your pillow.
Desi Beat has Mika Singh thwacking it for disco dandiya. Amrita Kak accompanies him on this one, garba stick for stick, they beat the drum hollow. Utter rubbish.
I have my reservations about the music of Aarakshan, but lucky for them that they have too few songs to rig my conscience for a victory vote.
Reviews of Aarakshan’s music have not been glowing with plaudits, and there’s reason to believe why it’s dividing so many ears into different directions. Much like the title of the film; mixed feelings, reservations, indecisiveness has hit the soundboard for listeners as it should have done for Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy by now.
Here’s how. Accha Lagta Hai – Mohit Chauhan and Shreya Ghoshal’s love-ly duet begins with the clattering of Banno Rani (1947-Earth), then goes into the silkiness of Acche Lagte Ho (Kuch Na Kaho), and marks a tempo to Mere Dil Ka Tumse Hai Kehna (Armaan). With so many inspired detours, it still hits a clairvoyant note when Shreya begs, ‘Zara short mein batlao na, seedhe point pe aao na.’ SEL, this is your cue.
The ‘chaanas’ in Mauka breaks the song’s trimetre pattern of tried and testy arrangement, thus salvaging it from ennui. Even then, let’s just watch the song play; it’s got a street-theatre flavour to it, good for anti-establishment campaign rallies during election season.
That funny looking promo you see on your telly tube where Ajay Devgn is fiendishly squeezing imaginary lemons in a dance-step to prepare a cocktail spiked with ‘tiger’s blood’ if you must, after lending your ears to the roar in the back score of Singham’s eponymous title track is ga-ga-gruff stud-muffin stuff.
High on decibel, high on histrionics, the track is unlikely to over-stay its film run. Sung by Sukhwinder Singh, this one is strictly for on-screen trampoline stunts. The remix version grooves.
Ajay-Atul, the team that gave us the magnificent soundtrack of the Marathi film Natrang a year ago, have made some previous attempts to break into the hindi film music scene but have not been successful. With Singham, they get another lucky strike but with limited scope. They have to pander to a musical form that does not allow ‘a freeing of music’ from its beat-pattern.
Saathiyaa, the second song, sung by Shreya Ghoshal, accompanied by Ajay of the musical duo, is a standard syrupy sweet track about love’s lemony tartness.
When is it that Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy traipse into Vishal-Shekhar synth-sound territory and vice-versa? Collaboratively they’re beginning to sound like a five piece band when for Ik Junoon Vishal fronts the vocals, with Shankar, Ehsan chorusing him, Loy and Shekhar engineering a funk sound. There’s no telling which musical team this song belongs to. It sounds like a cross between Anjaana-Anjaani and Uff Teri Ada – the first a V-S composition, the other by the trio amigos!
The faux overlaps that once could not trick your ears, when you could tell a SEL track from a VS track (which you still can at times, Patiala House was full-on SEL) is blurring with their choice of film-makers who are demanding for a particular sound that fits not the musician’s oeuvre, but their own brand of what is in and cool.
For the sake of music let’s just hear them out. How different is the music of I Hate Luv Storys from Anjaana-Anjaani or Break Ke Baad (Vishal-Shekhar)? It’s their sound; you know when you hear a track from any of these films. Which is a good thing, right? Quote unquote, ‘It’s their style.’
The same can be applied for SEL’s Karthik Calling Karthik, Wake Up Sid, Housefull, I suppose. Quote unquote, ‘It’s their stamp.’
How much of Amitabh Bachchan can you endure in a day? The music of his upcoming film is testament that there can never be enough when he is around.
About time Mr Amitabh Bachchan was knighted for his contribution to the arts, and asked to take it easy. Lately, he’s been acting beyond his age (thanks progeria-Paa), and if that pumps new blood and vigour in his already inter-stellar career, so be it, but acting on one side, and now taking his singing seriously, that’s another altogether unchartered territory.
How else will you digest four of the five tracks from the film credited to his melodious voice, or is it? Film actors, without playback artists, cannot hold a note where Mr Bachchan is capable of launching a few hundred advertising campaigns on the strength of his commandeering voice, but is that music to our ears?
Haal-e-Dil, the first track plays out like he’s reading a shloka, albeit a love song, a poem at an inter-state college poetry recital programme. Another singer would have sung it with the flourish only another singer can produce – those little harkats we are so fond of hearing in plaintive renditions, those surprise turns that twitch our nerves into exclamatory cheer. Vishal-Shekhar, who have composed this track, perhaps understanding the limitation of Mr Bachchan’s voice, fine-tune the track with that restrain which you can feel through the soft-pedaling timbre of his voice – a flat-out recital you should ask grandma to sing to lull you into sleep.
The craze for sequels has pushed Vishesh Films to extend the storyline of the original Murder, which was released in 2004. The Bhatts’ camp has evolved in the manner they extract music from their composers since Kabzaa (1988) to Crook (2010). The music team is composed of Harshit Saxena who was the runner up of Amul Star Voice of India in 2007 and was also heard in Tees Maar Khan’s ‘Happy Ending’, Sangeet and Siddharth Haldipur and Mithoon. The favourite lyricists include Sayeed Quadri, Kumaar and Mithoon himself.
Escapism in the wild nature is the effect of listening to Harshit Saxena’s originally composed ‘Hale Dil’, which has a remarkable peacefulness to it. The soulful and melodious track opens up magnificently by soft guitars’ riffs by Pawan Raseily in the prelude before moving into the well composed ‘mukhda’, where Harshit Saxena renders the exquisite poetry of renowned lyricist Sayeed Qadri in an absolutely top performance.
Delhi Belly’s soundtrack, if it wasn’t about its colloquial text friendly lyrics, would not have struck a chord, do you think?
Consider some expository song names; dices rolled ‘Bhaag D K Bose, Andhi Ayi,’ the gesticulating ‘Nakkadwaley Disco, Udharwaale Khisko,’ the inflammatory ‘Jaa Chudail,’ the coquettish ‘I Hate You,’ the adamantine ‘Switty Tera Pyaar Chaida,’ which more than being carefully worded songs, are also common phrases to be heard, and seen, and texted by hoi polloi.
Have you not seen a nakkadwaley disco, udharwaale khisko sticker at a paan shop’s masthead, or have you not sent people random texts exclaiming your present state of furore such as I hate you, or rebuffed a friend’s advice in a time of great distress – jaa chudail, or danced to the metronomed tune of – tera pyaar chaida ringing in your head when you desperately wanted to suck somebody’s face?
For Ram Sampath, these everyday occurrences have found a new rhythm on the music deck – he’s arranged these songs with astute tuning into our heads as to allow the soundtrack to constantly evolve – even as we sometimes fail to grasp the lyrics, adding our own ‘something-something’ when we sing-along, these are republican songs of an anarchist nature.
Arranged in Descending Order by Years(in Decade)
Music Hits 2000-2009 (Figures in Units) 2000 2001 Mohabbatein 50,00,000 Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham 35,00,000 Dhadkan 45,00,000 Mujhe Kuch Kehna Hai 32,00,000 Refugee 35,00,000 Raaz 30,00,000 Fiza 25,00,000 Lagaan 28,00,000 Har Dil Jo …
This summer’s scorching soundtrack is here and is likely to be lurking through your darkest seasons in the sun.
Confession time. The first promo of Shaitan, featuring a snippet of the soundtrack that was to arrive later, had me reaching out for poppers…erm…I mean popcorn, or popsicle, anything that would put me into a frenzy. The little that I saw and heard was Bali- The Sound of Shaitan. Listen to it, and if it does not put your head into a spin, what are you smoking?
Savaal sava lakh ka, who has not been waiting for the ecstasy-laced soundtrack of Shaitan? With its now cult-following arrival, is also the inevitable delay in trying to analyze it. The music, like the film’s psychedelic poster art, is bewilderingly a Rorschach test of your music reviewing acumen.
Enter, the first track, clocking at a minute is, oh and is this just me, why do I think I am entering Gaspar Noe – Enter The Void territory? The track is a vestibule that could lead you into a trapdoor – opening into a whole new arena of sounds that, for a start, hindi cinema, has not heard.
Kudiyon ka nasha pyaare…who better than Salman Khan to mock-sync a song that infringes on character assassination. His own. Self-deprecatory to the hilt, are you Ready for this?
In the track Character Dheela, singers Neeraj Shridhar and Amrita Kak bounce the song around its star character Sallu, and looking at the picturisation, one can tell how the track evolved spontaneously in the music room.
It’s all over the place, a Sallu trait that will infectiously spread. The deliberate and intrinsic use of pipe music is to reinforce the song’s smooth charm to lead its own chain of devotees. Saala sab Sallu ke fan log.
Humko Pyar Hua by K K and Tulsi Kumar (a pop music singer?) is well…zzz. This one is déjà vu, say Teri Ore from Singh is Kinng on recycled tempo. The composition is so staid; it evokes no feelings, not even of pity. ‘Humko pyar hua…poori hui dua’ Bah!
What sets a taaza-tareen music composer from the more established names in the Bollywood sangeet mela?
Krsna, first time composer with Tanu Weds Manu offers no new sounds with his debut; using all the musical tropes we are used to hearing. His is not a grand entry, rather one who we’re over-familiar with, his tunes and tricks enmeshed in our system; it’s sticky to comb him from the achievers. He’s bang in the middle of Bollywood groove. It’s for him now, to gather speed, or lag behind, in a rat race on a revolving dance floor.
Sadi Gali, the first track opens right in the middle of a celebration, there’s no prelude, and you can’t help feeling odd if your limbs don’t begin to act on their own. Lehmber Hussainpuri infuses it with such infectious rhythm, his voice in sync with the hooks; this is one song you are going to hear a lot in the coming days if you haven’t already heard it long ago, which only goes to reiterate how Krsna is coming from familiar terrain – he knows what we will swing to.