. Matinee

Music Des-Pardes
R.M Vijayakar


R.M Vijayakar listens to Hindi film music and finds a great divide between techno and the traditional melodies.

Preity Zinta and Saif Ali Khan in “Kal Ho Naa Ho,” which captured the hearts of the Diaspora.

It is old hat now that films from a certain section of filmmakers are being tailored especially for the non-resident Indian. The huge amount of money that comes from markets like the U.S. and UK (in particular) makes a film producer or distributor laugh all the way to the bank even if the film collapses at home, especially since the overseas market is largely star-driven.

So, today, we have a kind of divide in filmmaking where films are largely made for specific target audiences like Indian urban (“Murder”), Indian interiors (“Garv”), and overseas (“Kal Ho Naa Ho”), and very few films are aimed at every kind of audience.

But what is surprising is the great divide that is happening in film music, too – which is not really NRI-based. Two divergent schools of music are emerging that have nothing to do with the film divide. They are the techno- and sound-obsessed school led by A.R. Rehman and Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, with Sandeep Chowta and Vishal-Shekhar among the other followers; and the largely melodic school led by Anu Malik, Jatin-Lalit, Nadeem-Shravan, Himesh Reshammiya and others. As of today, the second school seems to be having an edge over the former.

There are several reasons for this. Firstly, while the NRI market for Hindi film music is driven by sound (since most NRIs have access to advanced sound systems both at home and in Indian restaurants and pubs), it is also very attached to homespun melody. Thus, it will definitely prefer a “Main Hoon Na” to a ‘Jhankaar Beats” kind of score. A.R. Rehman will be a favorite, but so will the Yash Chopra-Sanjay Leela Bhansali kind of music.

The youth factor
Back in India, the myth is all pervading that the main buying power is now in the hands of the urban upmarket youth. Add their addiction to FM Radio, their access to music downloads and better sound systems, their orientation to a Western ethos and their frequenting pubs, and you know why music companies and filmmakers are favoring the dichotomy of earthy scores, on the one hand, for small-town and traditional audiences, and ‘youthful’ scores that are greater food for the sole than the soul.

But while all this works in theory, the real facts tell a different story. If the musical notes are being compromised, the currency notes are also not pouring in. After all, what is the percentage (outside Mumbai, Delhi, Pune and Bangalore as ‘youth’ cities) of aficionados of ‘hep’ music?

Said Shridhar Subramaniam, managing director of Sony Music, very tellingly some years ago, “We try to market all kinds of music, but what do we find at the end of the day? That the only names that sell across the whole country are Nadeem-Shravan!”

That was in the “Dhadkan”-”Kasoor”-”Raaz” era of 2000-2002. Today, upcoming music director Sujeet Shetty, who sports a pigtail, T-shirt and jeans in the best yuppie tradition, and composes music for Kushan Nandy and John Matthew Matthan, says even more significantly, “As we know, things run in cycles.

“With the advent of Sandeep Chowta, Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, Vishal-Shekhar and others led by the Rehman revolution, things had shifted to the Western approach and techno. But now things are coming back to Indian roots and Ismail Darbar, Sandesh Shandilya and Shantanu Moitra are bringing back melody.”

Transient Tunes
History has been witness to trends zooming in and fading out in music. As Nikhil Kamat (of Nikhil-Vinay, the music duo) asserts, “Western music trends come and go. Indian melody stays forever. Vinay and I as a duo are not in the A-list even after 15 years, but we would have been without work by now if our music, which is alleged to be in a traditional groove, had not made profits for the music companies.

“On the contrary, at any given point in the last seven years, we have had at least seven to ten films on hand as well as albums.”

Strangely enough, the significance of Nikhil-Vinay’s music (and of Nadeem-Shravan) has not hit the so-called pundits and the music barons, except for T-Series. It’s no surprise then that T-Series is virtually the only music label that is going strong.

Says Mukesh Desai, CEO of Supercassettes, “Yes, you are right. There is a paradigm difference in the tastes of young metro youth and the rest of the city and country.”

Two important factors cannot be forgotten here: one, that there are music scores and songs that effortlessly cross the divide; and two, that variety being the spice of life, it is mandatory to have every kind of music even in films. The only quarrel one may have with the sound-obsessed brigade is the wrong signals they send out – that Indianness is passé among youth.

As Rehman recovers from the “Yuva”-”Lakeer” catastrophes to score an earthy “Swades,” we find Vishal-Shekhar saying loftily, “Oh, there are any number of music directors to cater to the usual music. We think that the Indian audience has been underestimated and deserve better! And we want to compose music that we are happy about!”

While we have no issues with the last statement, we are not exactly convinced that scoring a “Jhankaar Beats,” “Popcorn Khao…Mast Ho Jao, Stop!” and the likes can be termed as something the ‘underestimated’ music buffs deserve.

“What is needed today is enduring music, music that is instantly hummable as well, and appeals to all classes. There should be less calculation, and a stress on the melody rather than the packaging. The reverse is happening today, which is sad. Ghode se pehle lagaam nahin aati.”

Adds market leader Anu Malik, “If you look around my music room, you will see no computers or software like Protools. I listen to every kind of music, but the bottomline is that I should be able to compose from the heart. This harmonium helps me compose from within, and in such a way that it appeals to everyone.”

And Malik has proved his point by scoring the only two albums that have sold well across genres among film albums in 2004 – “Murder” and “Main Hoon Na.” An extremely versatile talent, Malik insists that if he beat others to the international circuit with “Bride And Prejudice,” it is because Gurinder Chadha wanted an English film with completely Indian-sounding English songs. “Otherwise, there are any number of Indian or international composers she could have gone to in UK,” he says.

This also explains why the Hindi version of the album was a washout: “The decision to have Hindi songs was a last minute decision by Gurinder,” reveals singer Kunal Ganjawala. “Anu’s tunes were typically Hindi film, so Indians found them quite stale because they were very basic.”

Ganjawala and his wife Gayatri Iyer (also an upcoming singer and the main female voice in “BAP”), however, welcome the trend of amalgamating world influences. Iyer, too, is extremely happy about all the influences that she has been exposed to in music, which honed her talent.

“From childhood I have been brought up on film music, light classical and classical as well as a lot of Western music,” she says. “This is a dichotomy we live with in life, too, as from clothes to values, everything is a mix of Indian and Western. I find this era very enriching and exciting.”

Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, the music trio that is handling “Marigold” and “Vanity Fair,” are perhaps the greatest representatives of this musical integration. Hailing not only from three different religions but also cultural and musical backgrounds, they come together only for film music and lead separate musical lives as well. Though a shade condescending about film music, they are nevertheless astute enough to blend world influences into conventional film music.

Disappointing Progress
But despite their huge talent (as opposed to the Chowtas and Vishal-Shekhars), S-E-L have never delivered major hits other than “Dil Chahta Hai” and “Kal Ho Naa Ho,” and have been unable to either boost a weak film (like “Kuch Naa Kaho”), non-musical (“Lakshya”), or an out-and-out commercial project (“Ek Aur Ek Gyaraah”). In fact, outside these two triumphs, these ‘class-oriented’ music makers’ greatest successes are their “Dance Masti” series of remixes.

And this is where enfant terrible Bappi Lahiri comes in with a scathing remark. “It is immaterial whether you love or hate remixes or what stand you have on them,” he says. “The bottomline is that aaj bhi Pancham (R.D. Burman), Laxmikant-Pyarelal, S.D. Burman, Shankar Jaikishan, O.P. Nayyar aur Bappi Lahiri hi chal rahe hai.”

Admits Mukesh Desai, “Our best-selling album at the moment is ‘Baby Love’, Sophiya’s remix album. ‘Swades’ is just okay, and the rest have yet to pick up.” Note also that in the last two or three years, the only non-film albums to sell reasonably well are the better remixes and just one Indipop album, the melodious Adnan Sami album, “Tera Chehra.” And this icon of the youth among Indipop buffs also swears by melody rather than sound.

In such a scenario, the sad part is that music directors oriented towards a more nutritious melody are also getting too obsessed with tradition. Nikhil-Vinay albums may sell all over but there is little innovation and no reinvention there, ditto Nadeem-Shravan. Himesh Reshammiya, too, is getting obsessed with his style, and Jatin-Lalit have never even attempted to break away from their admittedly pleasant but single mold.

And what can one Anu Malik do, other than turn complacent, which explains the crests and troughs in his creativity? Also, there is too much of calculation happening in the music world, too much deference to theories and track-records. Says Nikhil Kamat, “Too many people are dictating too many things to people.” Adds Anu, “There is so much confusion in everyone’s minds about what they want, and only a few pro- ducers are very clear about things.”

Why are we not using advanced technology to advantage as well as trends to our convenience? In the UK there is an unhealthy emphasis on bhangra and bhangra-pop. One would have to strain one’s memory back to the ‘90s to recall the last hit Punjabi pop album in India and, yet, every second film has a Punjabi number.

M.M. Kreem’s musical forays in Hindi cinema (“Sur,” “Jism,” “Rog”) underscore his desire to be truly creative and melodic because, as he points out, “The South is obsessed with sound and techno music and has forgotten acoustics and melody. Music will die if we forget acoustics.”

Demand for quality
Observes Himesh Reshammiya, “If the remixes are doing so well, it just means that the new lot of music directors cannot deliver what touches and remains in the listeners’ hearts. Today’s youngsters may not take kindly to mono sound and dated orchestration, but they are pretty smart in wanting a great composition, and they get this perfect combination with remixes of old songs – the rich lyrics and music of yesterday and the sound of today.”

The Indian anywhere in India or outside can never really move away from his roots, for his country’s music has its origins in nature, spiritualism and divinity. What makes anyone think that artificial divides will yield fruit? Let Hindi film music and other popular music remain as always – with an eternal healthy Indian core with varied and constantly-changing, trendy packaging. As a musicologist shrewdly observed, “The chief difference between R.D. Burman and current fusion, techno and world music maniacs was that however alien and fashionable were the outer garments, the RD composition was wholly Indian, like an Indian man or woman outfitted completely in Western attire. The trouble starts when today’s bratpack forget that and either try to pass off ‘foreigners’ in Indian garb or hope that aliens will be accepted for a change. That can be only an exception, never the rule.”

And that, we think, says it all. Music will be better off without this great divide.