Bhangra Power Rangers

In 1998, Bhangra music was becoming  mainstream. It was the pre-item-number era, and the catchy song that would get people excited about a movie was no longer a romantic melody. It was often a Bhangra song, with Punjabi interspersed with Hindi for increased popularity. Many such numbers featured the main singer (typically male) and a bunch of hot pants/ denim or leather shorts clad girls dancing. Or in case of one of the singers, girls wearing loose flowing salwar/pants and tight bright colored tunics.

In 1998, there was a new Bhangra song on the scene. It featured just the singer, no one else. No dancing babes in this one. Just the singer. Or rather, four copies of the same guy, in bright colors, flowing robes and a turban. The Bling.

The song was a hit. A super hit. It solidified Daler Mehendi to the numero uno of Bhangra. A cheesy video made by green screening the same guy in front of low quality graphic backdrops shot in relatively low resolution. Through video effects, Daler Mehendi was superimposed onto virtual backgrounds, place them over animated digital backdrops or transport them to a desert oasis or polar icelakes.

Tunak Tunak Tun signaled it was the sheer energy and tremendous vocal capacity of Daler Mehendi and the catchiness inherent in Bhangra-pop that made his songs a hit, not some babes in the background.

The video features Daler Mehendi, flowing robes of orange with black, crimson with white, black with gold and green with black. Each color represented one of the 'earth element' - orange represents fire, green represents ice and water, black represents machinery and crimson represents food.

Any resemblance to Power Rangers is entirely coincidental.

The song itself is a poem sung to a sweetheart, imploring her to tell him what's going on her mind. He claims she is the moon and he himself to be a chakor, a mythological bird that's in love with the moon. The world is neither good or bad - rather than view it in those black and white terms, realize that the world is a colorful place.


Watch the original song on youtube or listen to it on soundcloud

Here's a parody made  by using World of Warcraft character named Dranei

Jiya Jaye Na

If I keep writing about the HindiPop songs of the 90s, it is for a good reason. This was a decade of fantastic innovation, when the tremendous talent in India found an outlet and a medium to communicate with the masses, and before the big banner studios started churning out identical clones of catchy item number songs. In late 90s, there came a med-school unshaven resident with a curly mop of hair whose ability to make melodious songs with high flat notes sung in a raspy voice became the signature of that group.

19 years later, Euphoria continues to bring that signature music and voice. Jiya Jaye Na is the latest song from this group. Shot as a song in a 22 minute short film  titled Jiya Jaye , it shows the story of a soldier returning to his home after quite a while. As he walks back from the bus to see the woman he loves, the girl next door who had missed him as he went away stationed wherever the army sent him, it appears that all isn't going according to his expectations. The video doesn't make it clear, but a quick glance thru the film tells the story of Shiv, a Hindu soldier returning to a Muslim girl who then feels that Shiv had alienated them as the rest of the kids they grew up with believe they are fighting against the Indian army for an independent state. For what happens next, watch the movie (but don't sweat it if you cant pull thru a 22 minute story - you can skip big chunks and still get the gist in a minute). The movie ends in a manner of most short films, not the movie end of a traditional Bollywood flick. Royal Stag appears to have sponsored a bunch of short films of which this is  one. May be worth checking out some of the others too.

Shreya Goshal sings the female part of the duet. The combination of the Shreya's silky voice with Palaash Sen's throaty rasp is fantastic. I couldn't help comparing the song to Maeree,  and found that over time, Palaash's voice has mellowed a bit. There's no fear of him turning into Mohit Chauhan, but 20 years have changed the voice a little, hardly as guttural as it used to be.

I think the comparison to maeree is obvious. The rising flat notes of the verse also reminded me of KK's "Abhi Abhi" from Jism2.

The music video on youtube has a shorter version of the song. Listen to the song on Gaana for a slightly longer version of the song.

Drowning

In mid-90s, as music television became mainstream in India, there were a few music videos that caught people's eyes. One such video starts with a quiet lake amongst the mountains and a yellow vintage volkswagon beetle partially submerged in it. A sherwani clad guy with a pine colored acoustic guitar drops in from the sky (cheesy) and then finds himself on the bonnet of the yellow car along with his buddies.

Mohit Chauhan, Atul Mittal, Kem Trivedi and Kenny Puri formed a band beautifully named 'Silk Route'. It conjures images of this ancient trade route that connecting medieval cities of learning and business, the mix of gothic and Persian architecture in those cities, of seamless cultural exchanges that flourished hundreds of years back, all to trade this desirable commodity of luxury - Silk.


'Dooba dooba' became an instant hit. The album, 'Boondein', received some level of success, but it was really just one song that won people over.

The song is sung for the love of his life. Mohit is drowning in her eyes. He has become lovelorn. The days go not pass and he can't sleep and all he has of her, is a picture, which just doesn't do any justice. When he meets her, his heart lights up. He wishes her to be his for ever, and then when she does not linger, he calls her heartless, imploring her to stay on.

As the song progresses, the band members perched on the car eventually all drown. As he drowns, Mohit imagines of his love swimming towards him. She comes close, and then seems like she is looking at her own reflection, a narcissist attitude and she swims away.

The melody is haunting. Mohit's voice is silky like the name of the band would suggest. The use of a recorder & clarinnet for the interlude enhances the freshness in the song. The beat is simple, and there's a light touch on the percussion.

Equally unusual in Indipop is the use of harmony. While not as extensively used, there are some places where Silk Route just gets it right. The Simon and Garfunkel influence on Mohit Chauhan is amply exemplified in this song, in the melody, the use of wind instruments, the use of harmony, as well as, perhaps the band member's outfits, which seem like the 80s S&G look.

Watch the original video on youtube. While an unplugged version of a song that originally features an acoustic guitar seems redundant, the rehashed version of the song is worth a watch too for the Mohit Chauhan fans.

Sunset on the sea

A college band decides to get in one of the intercollegiate competitions. That's when a bunch of guys who have been jamming together for a while embark on a search for a name. Bombay, the fusion city that combines traditions with the contemporary, quite takes the spirit of a band that combines Hindustani Classical with blues and progressive rock. A six-piece band that packs a punch, much like a revolver, a 'bandook'.

 



The six bullets of this Bandook include Chirag Jaisinghani (keyboards), Jagravi Rao (bass), Brijesh Joshi (guitar), Anurag Gawahle (guitar), Jai Chheda (drums) and Sannidh Shah on vocals. This song has an additional accompanist, Samay Lalwani on  Tabla.


The song is a tribute to the sea, Sagariya, deep, and when the sun drowns into it, there's darkness all over. There is smoke that occludes the vision. During golden days and dark nights, the mind internalizes on ones' memories. A reflective song that is melancholy, quite a stark contrast to my previous post.


The song is composed in Aasavari, one of the morning Raag. This is one of the Raags that came in from Carnatic music into Hindustani, and are considered  'Kanada Raag', which often have a 'vakra' composition during the anti-climax, which gives it a particular style that makes a song melancholy. A morning Raag, these are often sung at dawn, a period of reflection at the beginning of a new day.




The music video is fairly low-key, shot on a terrace of a building somewhere in Mumbai, overlooking a temple. The video shows the band playing. At 5:11 minutes into the song, the song goes into the 'night', where the entire band (still in the same location), is illuminated by flood lights. The production quality is quite good for a local band but certainly leaves scope for improvement such as over amplified pickup from an electric guitar in parts, a muted percussion set which could be boosted a little more especially in the faster pace section of the song. None of these, however, really come in the way of a brilliant, melancholy composition by this up and coming band.






Listen to the song on soundcloud, or check out the band on bandcamp.

Yeh Mausam Milne Ka Hain

A brilliant series of music that has provided visibility and creative outlet to over a hundred talented artistes is Coke Studio. From the sixth season onwards, the production has been influenced by Strings, a terrific band in its own right, with beautiful melodies (but more about them some other time).

In '96, Ali Noor and his brother Ali Hamza started a band called Noori. The word is a play on the last name Noor, and means 'light'. In spite of local success, it wasn't until Coke Studio that I heard about this group and their songs. The songs always tend to be sung well, based on classical or light classical Hindustani music.

The first time I heard Zeb was when she recorded along with her cousin. Together, Zeb and Haniya were a superbly refreshing talented duo, when I heard their rendition of Bibi Sanam Janem, I was hooked! Since then, Zeb Bangash has also recorded Bollywood songs, a recurring theme in her music is a blend of folksy tunes, dhuns, with electronic, largely keyboard based music.


Coke studio season 9. The first episode has 'heavy hitters' such as Abida Parveen, but the song that steals the show is Aaja Moray Saiyaan.

Noori starts off the song. A folksy tune probably sung in Maand raga. (Don't quote me on this one, the style certainly seems like it, but need better sources) A popular style of song in Rajasthan, the songs sung in this style typically refer to ordinary occurrences around us that feel special, the green buds of spring, the joyous sensation of a light breeze, the earth that adorns the feet like mehendi, and, for a desert region, the ultimate joy of nature is seeing the dark monsoon clouds in the sky that will lead to the rain that can reinvigorate a desert like no one else could.

It is this that evokes in the bosoms of a lovers, a new sensation. The song is sung by a girl. A girl inviting a lover, sharing her emotions, enticing him to meet. A sensation to be united with the loved one. It is the season to meet. The season to start lives afresh, just like the buds in the spring time. The season to forget the rest of the world, and think only of the charming one. And with the pitter patter of the rain, she says 'Mohe rang de', adorn me in all the colors of life.

Zeb Bangash sings this song with a light touch, but uses elements of classical music very well. The song builds up with lyrics and notes to a certain point. Suddenly, the tune changes into a reflective, repetitive bit with 'Megha barase rimzhim rimzhim', perhaps a slight melancholy from the adoring girl, reflecting, almost lost for words to express. The style is anticlimactic and the mood is a little pensive. At that precise point, Noori joins in! The charming prince the girl has been waiting for has chimed in, and the song lifts to its previous light hearted romance, and simply soars from that point.

Watch Aaja Moray Saiyaan on youtube or listen to it on soundcloud

Sufi Soulmate

 In 1997, a Pakistani rock band released their first single and a music video that accompanied.

It combined table and electric guitar, and had a raspy voice with a brilliant vocal range and powerful delivery. The singer, Ali Azmat. Salman Ahmad was the lead guitarist who also wrote many of the lyrics. He had parted ways with Vital Signs to start his own band. He then convinced Brian O'Connell to relocate from upstate New York to Karachi to play bass guitar for the albums. The signature theme of this song is the use of Tabla as the only percussion, played brilliantly by Ustad Aashiq Ali.

The song, Sayonee, means soul-mate. The sufi themed video as well as the use of tabla became a sensation in south east asia, leading to a sub-genre of music called Sufi-rock.

Ali Azmat though, stole the show. While it is true that the lead singer is often the most recognizable part of any band, few vocalists have the sheer force. Ali Azmat took this song, with short meter and simple lyrics (well, simple Urdu, I still needed to look these up to translate),put it into bursts of energy. Each stanza is an anti-climax, where the first line rises in the pitch, then followed by a strong long-drawn vocal for a word. That word then becomes the next level, in some sense, and Ali follows it going even higher in scales. The last line of each stanza is an anticlimax, going back to the original scale, giving the listener, a sense of fatalistic melancholy that the song so wonderfully conveys.

The music video was directed by Asim Reza, and was shot entirely in the Multan. The not-so-obvious plot of the music video rotates around a boy who struggles to find his soul mate and goes through many troubles in life. The video was never entirely clear, but at the beginning, I wasn't sure if a child is being kidnapped, or taken away from something by his father. Furthermore, as the music video proceeds the boy is shown all grown up but still struggling to find his soulmate and thus, is shown running in order to try to save himself from the troubles he has been into. The Urdu lyrics needed us to look up their English translations.  I remember translating this song as "Chain ek pal nahi, saath koi girl nahi.. Sayonee"

The music video shows the band performing the song wearing traditional sufi clothing and in between the music video short clips of whirling dervish.

Watch Sayonee on youtube or listen to it Live, in Central Park, on soundcloud

Keys

An errant son of a famous father drifted into a lifestyle of money and marijuana. Mehmood was one of the most prolific comedian/actor, director and producer in Bollywood in 60s and 70s. Maqsood's relationship with his father was far from smooth, but somehow didn't make it to tabloids. His initial acting forays as a child actor in 60s and then a few off-beat films in 70s were limited success. At some point he moved to Australia & New Zealand.

In mid-90s, Maqsood Mahmood Ali released an album. Titled Sunoh (Listen), it featured beautiful lyrics, easy to hum along songs, sung with a slight nasal voice. The album featured a song 'O Sanam' that stayed in MTV Asia's music charts Top 3 for 60 weeks, and won him Channel V Viewer's choice awards. With a neat Egypt themed video, it received plenty of screen time on Music as well as regular Indian television. Lucky Ali became an instantly recognizable name.

The video starts off with Lucky Ali, an archaeologist, travelling to a dusty desert place on a motorcycle with a side car. Apparently he is the rebirth of an ancient feudal lord. This turns out to be coincidentally the same place of his previous life. The key (literally) to his memories is this large key, a key to a prison cell. He remembers the painful events of his past life.

In his previous life Lucky Ali arrested the older person related to the lady in veil and convicted of some crime. This enigmatic lady, all we can see are her beautiful eyes, is played by Lucky Ali's then wife Meaghan Jane McCleary. Veiled lady is determined to free the man, played a false love affair with the feudal lord. This is about 2:30 minutes into the song where she, and a bunch of other veiled ladies, steal the key from a sleeping feudal lord. She eventually succeeded in freeing man, but herself got caught. The feudal lord really fancies the girl, but what she has done can't go unpunished. She convicted to be beheaded. The love remains unfulfilled.
In this life, Lucky Ali as an archaeologist feels sad for his previous life and sings the song in remembrance. At last he throws the key away in despair.

The first time I heard this song, I was hooked. The simplicity of the song, the ease with which it could be hummed or sung along appealed to me instantly. The slight nasal twang didn't really bother me. The video was superb, a well made short story in a 4 minute song. The mellifluous Urdu words (some of which I had to look up for their meaning) were easy to sing. The entire album had great songs, and the songs just wove into one another into an entire album of rustic melodies.

Listen to an unplugged version on soundcloud but better still, watch the wonderful video

Freedom

"Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high"
Few words could describe the incredible Women's peace march that took place in DC with simultaneous marches all over the world. Over 3 million women, and supporters took to the streets peacefully awakening the world to the sorry state of health issues (particularly ones that deny women rights over their own bodies in the name of religion) and environmental issues.

With this backdrop, Rangeen Sapne presents the next song. The very first song in the first episode of the show 'The Dewarists'. In 90s, when Indian rock scene was still nascent, Pentagram was a solid rock band. Vishal Dadlani, one of the founders of this band, was the vocalist. Since then, he moved on to Bollywood film soundtracks collaborating with Shekhar Ravjiani to form the popular Vishal-Shekhar duo. Vishal Dadlani continues to innovate and collaborate with diverse set of artistes.

Imogen Heap has trained in classical instruments such as clarinet, cello and piano. Adding to a wind, a string and a keyboard, she learnt to play guitar and drums, and also experiments with Hang drum. Electronic music is what she is best known for, and she uses ambient sounds within her music.

The song begins with Vishal Dadlani and Imogen Heap with a street band on the streets in Rajasthan. Initially, Vishal provides the chorus and the back vocals, it's really Imogen who sings the first stanza. Blending English and Hindi fairly well, she leads into the 2nd stanza which is a duet.

2:10 minutes into the song, the chorus sings 'Ji ji re, ji ji re ji", a backdrop popular in Marathi 'Povada', very well blended into the rest of the song. The short (~3 minute) song ends with ".. and the story continues.. Mind Without Fears".

The video itself is a free form, walking light steps, almost dancing in the streets. Imogen ends the song with a whirling dervish form symbolizing the freedom where the conscious mind is completely in tune with the body and the rhythm of the music and the unconscious mind tuned to the whirling dance.

Watch the song on youtube and the original poem that inspired this song is reproduced here

Where The Mind Is Without Fear - Rabindranath Tagore

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Paree

The year was '93. I had just entered 'junior college' and was suddenly exposed to a world of intercollegiate competitions, rose-days, Tie and Saree days and annual days. And competitive fashion shows, those choreographed, somewhat elaborate dances paraded by budding youth on the college ramps. Each of the fashion show competitions would typically involve three or so different themes, one of which would be Ethnic couture.

It is with this backdrop that I remember a song, a singularly popular song with a haunting melodies singer and a somewhat unusual beat that I forever associate with the fashion shows of my youth.

Leslie Lewis had moved up from composing radio jingles to occasional score in movies. A song or two here and there, collaborating with other bigger names. A young Suneeta Rao, who had established herself in the college scene in St Xaviers productions of plays such as Evita was signed up by HMV for an album Dhuan. Translated  literally, it means smoke, but one that was meant to be the smoke screen between reality and dreams.

First half of the song is shot almost entirely in black and white, the song shows interwoven snippets of Suneeta Rao, and a young girl. The story or the plot of the video, I must confess, I never truly understood. It seems to revolve around a girl coming of age, transitioning from a girl to a young lady, but overall, the theme is subdued, and most of the video is really focused on a pretty Suneeta Rao.

Paree translates literally into a fairy, but a more apt translation here would be an angel or nymph. The song is about this nymph, the pretty girl lost in a dream sequence.

The song is a sensual, fast paced song. The beat is simple, the meter is somewhat long. The cymbals based percussion perhaps is a signature of this song. The riffs towards the end are similar to what Euphoria later used in Maaeri.

The song is short, the melody and the flute is haunting, sensual and almost transcendental. The beats themselves lend to a slow and steady rhythm, what made it such a hit on the ethnic fashion show sequences.

Watch Paree Hoon mein on YouTube (pretty bad clip but the only video I found) or on soundcloud

A good song can inspire covers, some quite wonderfully rendered. Watch an interesting cover of this song played by four girls from earlier this year. Sung very well, but with a video that starts cute but then progresses to ridiculously cheesy visuals.