AR Rahman - Rang De Basanti

My “official” review for AR Rahman’s Rang De Basanti. Hush, it’s top secret….

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Nowadays, it looks like every soundtrack release by AR Rahman is preceded by speculation that can be classified into two types: “Is this going to be the Next Great Soundtrack of our generation, the return to form for Rahman?” and the other, more concise reaction – “Yawn!” You cannot really blame both the camps  - on one hand, Rahman, in the early nineties, had raised the bar for Indian soundtracks to such an extent that people find him struggling to maintain that standard. On the other, his recent output is really not something that fits into popular taste, the kind of effect left behind on your auditory senses by an Aashiq Banaaya Aapne or a Salaam Namaste cannot be attributed to any Rahman number of recent times.

The music of Rang De Basanti, which was released late last week, is AR Rahman’s latest offering; the fourth Aamir Khan-ARR collaboration. Ten tracks on the CD, a neat package chockfull of liner notes containing the complete Prasoon Joshi/Blaaze lyrics - feels like full paisa-vasool in a day and age when six songs are clubbed (pun intended) together and sold at atrociously high prices.

The album begins with a one-and-a-half minute hymn ‘Ik Onkar’, sung in Punjabi by Harshdeep Kaur. This lady won the MTV Video Ga-Ga contest in 2001, at the age of 14. I must say that though I haven’t heard her before, her voice on the track - completely bereft of instruments - sounds extremely cool. Part of the magic is the harmonies Rahman creates out of multiple vocal tracks. The title song comes next, and the moment the sound of the tumbi begins, you know you’re in for a rollicking bhangra number. Daler Mehendi does not disappoint; neither does Chitra, whose delicate vocals come as a beautiful counterpoint to Daler’s robust singing. The problem with the track lies in the synthetic approach to the musical arrangement – bhangra is supposed to be in-your-face, while this track focuses more on the vocals than anything else, the percussion and the catchy chorus being relegated to the background, making it an antiseptic version of what might have been.

Next in line is ‘Paathshaala’, which is the ‘rebel’ song of the soundtrack – with loads of crunchy beats, an acoustic guitar strum, a heavy rock guitar riff – and very “now” lyrics. Sample this - “Talli hoke girne se, samjhi humne gravity; ishq ka practical kiya, tab aayi clarity” The tune’s catchy, but nothing to write home about.

‘Tu Bin Bataaye’ is the first slow song in the album, with minimal percussion and Rahman’s trademark orchestral strings backing Madhushree and Naresh Iyer’s singing. While Madhushree can been accused of being a Sadhana Sargam clone, she does a fairly competent job of the song. The highlights of the song are the interlude - a saxophone solo that harks back to classic Rahman soundtracks like Duet, and Naresh Iyer’s vocals. A song that grows on you, much like the only other slow song on the album – ‘Khoon Chalaa’, sung by Mohit Chauhan, the lead singer of Silk Route. Introspective, laidback vocals and instruments – if you replaced the solo violin with a recorder, this would sound exactly like a Silk Route number.

I found Khalbali the most interesting, and the catchiest song in the album. It’s a faux middle-eastern song sung in a faux middle-eastern accent by Rahman and Aslam Mustafa, with Arabic lyrics written and sung by Rai singer Cheb Nacim. Though Rahman’s accent sounds grating at times, maybe it’s meant to be that way – not much by way of lyrics here, but quite a lot of fun – especially the style in which the singers get into the Arabic groove.

Two of the best songs of the album are the Lata Mangeshkar-AR Rahman duet ‘Luka Chhupi’ and the last song ‘Roobaroo’, sung again by Rahman and Naresh Iyer. Both these songs have Rashid Ali’s exquisite guitar-work contributing to their immediate hook. ‘Luka Chhupi’ is a mother-son ditty that actually suits both the voices, and makes use of the tabla beautifully. It ends with an aalap worthy of mention, Rahman’s vocalizing coming out much better than his previous attempt at such a song (the final moments of Yuva’s ‘Fanaa’). ‘Roobaroo’ begins like an alternative rock hit of the nineties (you almost feel like this is a sunny Travis track, or one of Coldplay’s happier songs when it starts); though it does not tread any new ground as far as the music is concerned, this is one well-made number – George Clinton’s work on layering the background vocals, Naresh’s lead singing, the catchy chorus, the flowing lyrics all combining to end the album on a rocking note, reminiscent of the soundtrack of Dil Chahta Hai.

The much-hyped Aamir Khan number ‘Lalkaar’ is more of a poetry recital than a song, and feels like a copy of Arvind Swami’s brooding ‘Unnodu Naan’ in Rahman’s earlier Iruvar. Too bad Rahman could not get him to sing a proper song – this actually comes out flatter than Aamir’s Holi interlude in Mangal Pandey.

The low-point of the album is the painful remix version of ‘Paathshaala’ featuring words and vocals by Blaaze. While the original sounds funky because of the lyrics, this one sounds completely unhip, especially with lines like – “To the Mahal of the Taj, to the Minar of Qutab, to the Kumari of Kanya, to the Panjim of Goa, to the Kanchipuram, Zinda-bad, zinda-good.” Yikes. Rahman and Blaaze need a rethink with their rap numbers, seriously.

What stands out on the first listen – the thankful lack of an “item” number, a staple in most soundtracks today. Probably because of the youth-oriented storyline of the film, there should be no scantily-clad women dancing around in this film. Which is kind of a relief, because we have had enough of that lot. Like I said before, even though the Rahman of today seems to focus more on ‘intelligent’ music, his attempts at mass-appeal seems to be stalled because of his approach of distilling the earthy elements of the instrumentation. Which makes it very hard to let your hair down to his music. You would be better off listening to the nuances of Rahman’s music alone with the volume turned up way high – leave the party-going numbers to the likes of Himesh Reshammiya and Anu Malik.

Fatboy Slim - Palookaville

Once upon a time, I did this review for Worldspace Asia. Seems to be missing from their site right now. I didn’t like it all that much…

Review: Fatboy Slim - Palookaville

Q Magazine once said that this guy is one of the top fifty people you have to see live before you die. He is a man who has made a dance music star out of Jim Morrison - if you haven’t yet listened to the superb Bird of Prey, which features the Doors-frontsman’s sampled vocals, you should. If you’ve ever heard of the phrase “The Rockafeller Skank”, and you find yourself repeating, “Right about now, the funk soul brother, check it out now” whenever you are walking down the road, you know you’ve been affected. It’s a virus, I tell you. The kind of infection that burrows right into your skull and stays there for quite sometime, a virus named Fatboy Slim.

But dance music is hardly the realm Norman Cook (the real-life moniker of the Brighton-based DJ) confines himself to in his latest release Palookaville.  Shades of experimentalism had crept into his previous album Halfway Between the Gutter and The Stars which had yielded only a couple of dance-worthy anthems. Palookaville goes one step further.

Don’t Let The Man, the first track reminds me of Moby’s use of gospel vocals in his Play. This is one of the few tracks that uses a straight-out sample. The band in question being Five Man Electrical Band, whose chorus from their song Signs becomes the hook.

Slash Dot Slash and Jin Go Lo Ba are two tracks that sound like old-school Fatboy Slim. The latter is a dance-hall reworking of a popular Santana tune, and the former is made up of cut-and-paste vocals that sounds like an antiquated tribute to the dot-coms and the Web.

El Bebe Mesoquista is a rollicking pile of funk that starts with an acoustic guitar riff and a whiny voice that flows into an electrically charged beat-fest. Pull It Back Together, featuring the vocals of Blur’s Damon Albarn (whose album Think Tank was co-produced by Fatboy Slim) and The Journey are both out-of-the-way, contemplative tracks, the kind that annoy dance-music purists and make them reach for the fast-forward button.

North-West Three is supposedly a dedication to Zoe Ball, Fatboy Slim’s wife, an optimistic ditty that’s a cross between alternative rock and pop, the kind of jingle best suited for car advertisements.

The album closes with a surprisingly good cover version of the Steve Miller Band’s Joker, with vocals by Bootsy Collins. Probably this song represents the soul of this album - the blurring of genres that Fatboy Slim attempts throughout this work. It all makes sense, the use of real instruments as opposed to electronic blips, the toned down optimism as opposed to the frenetic pace of his earlier albums, the extensive guest-artists that appear in more than two-thirds of the song-list. This is not Fatboy Slim, the superstar DJ. This is Fatboy Slim, the man who wants to break free of the flimsy trappings of superstardom and be known as a serious musician.

Listen to Palookaville not as a dance album, but as you would listen to a fresh artiste and maybe it would make more sense, and give you more value for money.

And yes, at this rate, watching Fatboy Slim live might not be so strenuous, after all.

Bjork - MTV Unplugged

I am completely in awe of Bjork. Words are not enough, and I fear I gush too much when I talk about personal idols. The respect I have for her talent, her musical sensibilities, and her voice borders on that perilous edge of unhealthy obsession that has sent men sturdier than myself to madness. (Sorry about that last line, I think I have been reading too much Lovecraft lately.)

I have been lucky enough to listen to Bjork’s discography in the order in which she released her albums. Except for her earliest stuff, the rare Gling Glo single that I got only through the Greatest Hits box set, and the collaborations with Graham Massey and 808 State. I generally like to keep abreast of whatever new Bjork-related material is released – I am the kind of guy who remembers her discography on Wikipedia by heart. Which is why I was extremely surprised to find a link to a download of her MTV Unplugged concert. I never even knew Bjork had appeared on MTV unplugged.

From the tracklist, it’s quite apparent that this session was just after her first international album ‘Debut’; all the unplugged songs are from that album. There were also some live renditions of songs from ‘Post’ included in the package, which were obviously not from the same set. In order, the tracks are: Human Behaviour, One Day, Come To Me, Big Time Sensuality, Aeroplane, Someone In Love, Crying, The Anchor Song, Violently Happy, Army of Me, I Miss You, and Hyper Ballad. Spent quite sometime last night listening to the album, and boy oh boy, I am still gasping for breath.

You see, Bjork is known for doing crazy things with her songs. Recently, there was this Army of Me remix album she released; the album features cover versions of her song (duh!) ‘Army of Me’ by various artists. And these cover versions push the limits, really. From a growling death-metal rendition to chilled-out acoustic covers, various bands reinvent the song their own way. And of course, they miss out on the most vital ingredient, Bjork’s own voice.

MTV Unplugged is like Bjork’s own reinventions of her songs from Debut, with sparseand very eclectic instrumental accompaniment. For instance, the first song ‘Human Behaviour’, with one of the catchiest bass-lines ever has the same riff played on a harpsichord. The moment when it segues from its baroque intro to the familiar loop of the original  - you have to hear it to believe it. ‘Big Time Sensuality’, one of my favourite Bjork songs – and one of which I have heard versions ranging from fast dance to bubblegum pop – becomes a song backed only by the organ and tabla. Yes, the tabla, played by I don’t know who, but I am hoping it’s Talvin Singh, who collaborated with her on ‘Debut’. The song becomes slower, the tabla is given enough breathing space, and at a point of time it becomes a duel between Bjork and the percussionist, her voice alternating between growls, shrieks and whispers.

‘The Aeroplane Song’ is completely backed by the horn section, a tuba, a trumpet, and a saxophone, the tabla kicking in after a while. Reminded me initially of the sax quartet from the Cowboy Bebop OST. This, and ‘One Day’ is the probably the only song in my life I’ll hear a xylophone-tabla duet in.  Or was that tubular bells on ‘One Day’? ‘Violently Happy’; uber-violent in its original avatar, is de-percussionised to a great degree. Probably the only song that resembles the original version is ‘Someone in Love’, beautifully sung with a harp providing the counterpoint to her voice.

The remaining live songs are not much different from the album versions, but damn, it’s always exciting to hear the original beat-laden version of ‘Army of Me’.

All in all, what an album!

Beatzo Begins...again

After much deliberation, I have decided to limit this blog to musical musings and observations only. While this may end up contributing to the white noise on the blogosphere in the long run, who am I to worry about that?

O Brother Where Art Thou - The Soundtrack

This was a review of sorts I wrote for Worldspace Asia. Seems to be missing from the site index, so I thought I would put it up here for posterity.

Funny word - posterity. Reminds me of "posterior".

It’s not everyday that a movie soundtrack featuring a gamut of little-known artistes beats out musical heavyweights like U2 and Bob Dylan or chart-toppers like India.Arie and Outkast at the Grammies. February 27th, 2002 was one of those rare days, a day hailed as the triumphant return of old-time music to the mainstream. The name of the movie was O Brother Where Art Thou and the soundtrack of the movie took home five Grammy Awards in 2002, and was a multi-platinum bestseller that year. The reason? This was a soundtrack that featured songs painstakingly culled from archival records of the nineteen twenties and the thirties, faithfully rearranged to reflect their country and bluegrass origins, and incomparably sung by authentic voices of American Country music, free of the predictable Nashville polish.

It came out of nowhere. Among the manufactured synth-poppy atmosphere of the late nineties, when even period movies featured industrial remixes and howling electronica, the musical tapestry of O Brother… brought in a breath of fresh air. This comedy, directed by the Coen Brothers was set in rustic America of the early twentieth century and featured a storyline that was much dependent on the music of that time. In order to accurately reflect the styles of that period, the duo brought in archivist and old-time musician T-Bone Burnett. They wanted music performed by musicians, not celebrities, and by the time production on the record was over, they had exactly what they wanted.

Burnett, with the help of Country singer-songwriter Gillian Welch, came up with the idea of re-recording classic, forgotten tracks of yesteryears with arrangements of traditional harmonies, gospel choirs and using only old-time instruments like mandolins, violins and banjos. A folk song from the Appalachian Mountains, originally recorded in 1922 was made the signature song of the movie. The final album was to contain three disparate versions of the song, called A Man Of Constant Sorrow, and it featured the vocal talents of Union Station members Dan Tyminski, Harley Allen and Pat Enright. The trio called themselves The Soggy Bottom Boys, the name borrowed from the George Clooney's eponymous band in the movie.

The final list of singers who made it into the songs of the soundtrack reads like a Country Music Fan's dream-come-true. Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch and Emmy Lou Harris harmonize on "Don't Leave Nobody (But the Baby)", a plaintive tune punctuated by handclaps and humming. Norman Blake sings "You are My Sunshine" backed by the banjo and the slide guitar, an upbeat and breezy song, much like the sunny "Keep on the Sunny Side" by the Whites. In contrast, "Down to The River To Pray" by Alison Krauss and "O Death" by the legendary Ralph Stanley are deeply spiritual, both songs evoking a sense of nostalgia and timelessness. "Po Lazarus" by James Carter and the Prisoners has the despair of an authentic prison song, sung to the sound of hammers and pickaxes hitting rocks. "Big Rock Candy Mountain" by Harry McLintock is one of the authentic songs used in the album, a tale of a Utopia for bums, a place where there are "lakes of gin and lemonade springs", a place where "chickens lay softboiled eggs and dogs have rubber teeth." The album closes with a rendition of "Angel Band" by the Stanley Brothers, an acapella piece with harmonies that can be best described in just one word - chilling.

Most of the artistes on this album are contemporary country and bluegrass singers, but the authentic old-time style of their singing makes it hard to believe so. "Hard Time Killing Floor Blues" by Chris Thomas King is a perfect example of this - listen to the twenty-something year old singer's heartfelt rendition of this song, and you will be hard-pressed to believe that he's a singer of the nineties. (He plays a Robert Johnson wannabe in the movie) Another case in point - "In the Highway" by the Peasall Sisters, a trio of teenage sisters whose ebullient voices are matched by their masterly harmonizing on the track - one of the highpoints of the album.

The movie was not a box-office hit, but audiences everywhere immediately noticed the soundtrack. With very little airplay and by word-of-mouth, the music sales picked up. It was not only fans and music-lovers that were hooked - eminent musicians and bands (The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith and Metallica in particular) plugged the soundtrack at their concerts and in interviews, creating an enthusiasm unprecedented for Country and Bluegrass music. Then came the spin-offs - "O Sister Where Art Thou", an album featuring female Bluegrass and Country artistes, was an instant bestseller, as was the album featuring original versions of the songs on the O Brother soundtrack. The seventy-five year old Ralph Stanley went on to release his first solo album in years, with T-Bone Burnett helping out as producer. The musicians toured the United States on the O Brother tour, at places like Nashville's Ryman Auditorium and Carnegie Hall, which was filmed for a documentary by D.A. Pennebaker, called "Down From The Mountain". Needless to say, the DVD sold in truckloads.

The legacy of "O Brother Where Art Thou" remains to this day, be it in the renewed interest in the archival Blues and Country recordings of Alan Lomax (which were largely instrumental in the making of the soundtrack) and Harry Smith. Or in the revitalized careers of the dozen-odd Country musicians who poured heart and soul into the songs. It lives on in the legions of Country and Bluegrass converts who are discovering (and rediscovering) the authentic old-time music of the likes of Bill Monroe, Wilf Carter, Jimmie Rodgers and Robert Johnson. An album that fuses bluegrass, roots, mountain music and old-time country, "O Brother Where Art Thou" is the finest example of a perfect soundtrack, and an essential album for those who like their Country music raw and untarnished.

Worldspace Asia

So among the varied things I do when I am not working ( and sometimes, even when I am) is writing articles on music for the Worldspace Asia website. Get paid for it, too, which is the icing on the cake. I am supposed to write regular articles for The System, which is the worldspace channel dedicated to dance and electronic music. On the side, I write reviews and profiles of country music artistes, the kind of folks Chandru got me acquainted with.

Now whenever I tell my friends about this, the first reaction is "Pass link", and my reaction to that is - depending on whether I am online then or not, is to tell them - "go to the site, click on list all features, scroll down to 'The System' section, and check 'em out." But then, I also want to show them the non-electronica stuff I write about, and that becomes a problem. So the best alternative is to go to the site myself and laborously copy-paste the links in a mail and send it to them. Which is, to put it frankly, a BFC ( for non-Doom players, that's "Big F***ing Chore")

So now that I got myself this blog, I think I can look at an orderly way of presenting the links to the written stuff. So here goes -

On Bjork. The very first article I wrote.

Carl Perkins and Blue Suede Shoes.

An article on the Vocoder.

The Prodigy.

A review of Eminem's Encore. Personally, I find this the worst of everything I've written so far.

Sam Phillips and Sun Records.

On trance music. What I wrote was far longer than this.

Intelligent Dance Music.

A look at Passion: The Soundtrack to the Last Temptation of Christ.

Funny, but I remember writing a review of Fatboy Slim's Palookaville and a look at the soundtrack of O Brother Where Art Thou, which seem to have disappeared from the site. Need to check with the site-admin and figure out where they have disappeared to.

Gah, but some of the articles are really crap. I think there's too much of a fanboy in me to write about something without beginning to gush about it. But what the heck, I'm trying!

There exists a fine line between a Livejournaller and a Blogger. I intend to find out what that is.