Fantastic article! Thanks for sharing!
--- In [email protected], Vithur <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > *A ditty to make aditi smile* > Saturday May 31 2008 17:57 IST > > *Baradwaj Rangan* > > As if to prove his detractors wrong, as if to silence those criticisms that > his music cannot be got until you listen to it over and over like > imposition, filling that blackboard in your mind with grimly repeated > resolves of "The next time around, I will like this song better" A R > Rahman has composed... Wait, that's not the word, for 'composed' gives the > impression of a certain rigidity of structure, of a schema, of following a > premeditated thought to its predetermined conclusion, whereas the instantly > fall-in-lovable Kabhi kabhi Aditi (from Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na) sounds like > Rahman did nothing more than cup his ear to the chest of a college-goer in > love and translate those heartbeats into notes. > > After a succession of stately, senior-citizen scores, how delightful it is > to see Rahman strutting about in jeans again, an iPod stuffed in the back > pocket. When I heard that this notoriously non-prolific composer had two > soundtracks due to hit stores at the same time and after a quick glance > westwards to assure myself that the sun wasn't about to rise there I > thought, this week, I'd record my thoughts about Ada and Jaane Tu Ya Jaane > Na in this column. But that's not going to be possible, because the endless > listens to Kabhi kabhi Aditi have left me with barely any time to get to the > other tracks. > > How do I love this song? Let me count the ways. I love the way the rhythm > kicks in like an afterthought, well into the second line, changing in an > instant the texture of the number that you thought was going to be > coloured primarily by whiny pickings on an acoustic guitar. I love the > gradual buildup and explosion in the stanzas, as the > everything's-gonna-be-okay shrug from earlier is fleshed out into doggerel > universalities that the bleakness of night will once again give way to the > light of day, that the flowers will bloom once more. (The actor-playwright > Noël Coward once expressed his astonishment at "how potent cheap music is." > When you're a certain age, I guess the same could be said of dime-store > philosophising.) And I love the repeated pleas to Aditi to please, please, > please get out of her blue funk and crack a smile: Hey Aditi, has de, has > de, has de, has de, has de, has de tu zara / Nahin to bas thoda, thoda, > thoda, thoda, thoda, thoda muskura. > > Yet, there was the nagging realisation as the song came to a close that had > it been played for me in a guessing game and had I been asked to figure out > the composer, I would have dithered between AR Rahman and Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy > and Vishal-Shekhar. Does it appear to anyone else that the lines between the > troika at the top are increasingly beginning to blur? When the compositional > style is 'Indian,' I find I'm able to instantly pick out Khwaja mere Khwaja > as a Rahman creation (no other composer can whip up such a spiritual > fervour), or Goonji si hai as a number by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy (their melody > lines have the smoothest edges in the business). > > But it becomes murkier when we're talking pop-style compositions like > Kabhi kabhi Aditi, or Kahin to hogi (from the same album). If the composer's > names were scratched out from the inlay cover of the Taare Zameen Par CD, > would you settle on Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy as the brains behind Kholo kholo and > Jame raho? Or, for that matter, even with Vishal-Shekhar's very > Indian-sounding Main agar kahoon and Jag soona soona laage from Om Shanti > Om, don't they make you think of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy? And couldn't Rahman's > Mayya mayya from Guru be seen as a furtive escapee from the Vishal-Shekhar > camp? > > I wish I knew where I'm going with this based on the above, there seems to > be some overarching summation to be made about modern-day composers, doesn't > it? but the only conclusion (if it can even be called that) is that > compositional styles overlap a lot more than they used to. > > I was listening, recently, to Dil sajan jalta hai from Mukti, and even if I > hadn't already known the name of the composer, the stanzas would have left > me with little doubt. It's all a smooth rise-and-fall of melody, till we get > to the phrases shabnam ke girne se, early in the second stanza, where the > luscious curves flatten abruptly to straight lines, as if, for those few > seconds, something had caused the scale to sputter and choke to near-death. > That something is the unmistakable R D Burman signature. Now, why didn't we > find this in anyone else's music of that time? I'll leave you to chew over > that while I head back to clear my head with that ditty about Aditi. > > *Film critic, > The New Indian Express. > Feedback to this article > can be sent to > [EMAIL PROTECTED] > ** > http://www.newindpress.com/sunday/sundayitems.asp?id=SEF20080531083111&eTitle=Cinema&rLink=0 > > > -- > regards, > Vithur > > HELP EVER; HURT NEVER; > LOVE ALL; SERVE ALL >
