Musical Blues

Dear Mr. Rahman,

Let me introduce myself as a BIIIG fan of your music. When I heard Roja for the first time, it had an impact on me that no other album (not even any of yours) could hope to give. It was an entirely new sound that I was hearing, and if I were forced to pick one word to describe it, it would be “Sophisticated”. The recording was suave, and the use of percussions was a leap from the days of the drums used in the interludes of “Ninnukori Varnam”. Yup, the beats sounding like they never had before, gave an entirely new dimension to experiencing songs, even simple tunes like “Rukumani Rukumani”. It was not that only the beats or tunes alone contributed to the greatness of the songs. It was the entire experience of listening to the guitar strings and the keyboard opening the song by slowing raising the tempo and suddenly finding beats which sounded like digital water droplets falling on the ground accompanying a chilly folk humming, setting the ground for the lines “Pudhu Vellai Mazhai” to be sung. I experienced Goosebumps every time they played the song on the show they called “Oliyum Oliyum”, and Sir, Kafam Fe; I get the same haunting feeling even today.

And you wouldn’t stop with it. Film after film, you upped the ante, and we were left gasping for more. Gentleman, Kadhalan, Indian, Bombay followed and I was hearing the songs not just in “Oliyum OLiyum” (Sheesh…how do I differentiate the two Tamil “L’s in English) but also in “Ek Se Badkar Ek” (The Hindi songs countdown). You were a national rage. And it swelled me with Illad Pride that you were recognized as a legend Pan-India. “Chayya Chayya” was hailed as the new National Anthem. As the years rolled by and you brought a new shelf for keeping all those awards, the whole world became a stage for you with “Bombay Dreams”. Madras became Chennai, and I still used to wait eagerly for your albums, but was getting irritated and impatient by the day as the wait was too long for each one to come out. Like jerking off in old age.

Cut to the present. When a new movie of yours releases, it’s no longer the sense of anticipation that I experience. It’s more of an eerie trepidation, the sort of feeling you get when the results of an examination are announced, and you have no clue as to how you have done. And invariably when I hear the music for the first time, there is a sinking feeling. “What sort of music is this? I don’t like it. The previous album was much better”. But then, the Google Talk statuses pop up one by one. “Fiqrana!”.”Shanno Shanno!”. You even have a new moniker as evinced by the Tweets about “ARR rocks”. And Facebook walls are filled with your other sobriquet that only Pulitzer winners could have come up with: “The Mozart of Madras delivers. Yet again!” “Isai Puyal” is passé. After all, you now belong to the whole of India. How could we bind you to our hometown with vernacular epithets?

And then, the Human Mind starts thinking.” Hey! How could the whole world like the music except you? It means there is something wrong with you. I always maintain that you don’t listen to those English songs. It’s the reasons why you don’t win quizzes. It’s also the reason you are not able to appreciate the World Influences of Rahman’s music. Look at you. You are listening to Chinna Kannan Azhaikkiraan by Ilayaraja right now. You are being insanely romantic about an era you are not even familiar with. You are caught in a time warp. Look at your juniors. They are swayed by the music as the children to the music of the Pied Piper of Hamlin And look at you. You have enqueued “Choole Le Ne Do Nazuk Hoton” by Mohd. Rafi. Does your dad listen to these songs? You need to Wake Up Sid! Listen to the gems from Rahman’s latest jewel box. Follow this psuedocode:

Function likeARR(input song)

While( song.liked=False)

Song.play;

Return song.liked;

And when I finally break out of the seemingly infinite loop, I am convinced. No, self indoctrinated. “ I love the songs. Look at the layers of the music behind the veneer of the tune. It’s truly class. Keep Bass low. Raise the volume. You will hear those magical seconds of the guitar. You couldn’t have heard it the first time. That’s why you should listen to the songs over and over again. Each listening experience is truly a revelation. The songs are so deep. ARR is ARR.”

But sometimes, sanity prevails. Like it happened with “Blue”. No amount of brain-washing could lead me to such an inebriated condition as to like the songs. I have not listened to Kylie Minogue before. So, you couldn’t tempt me with that carrot. The Udit Narayan song sounds like the “Dance Pe Chance” in “Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi”. I can’t understand the fuss behind “Fiqrana”. I like “Aaj Dil Gustakh hain”. Though it’s not great.

The sad truth with Blue is had it been done by someone else, (say Yuvan Shankar Raja), it would have been a great attempt by their standards. And paradoxically, it wouldn’t have got the same attention. But you Mr. Rahman are a demi-god. You could have babbled in speech and it would sound like “Narumugaiye”. How could you bring yourself to compose this drivel by your standards? Or maybe you knew how the film would shape into. So didn’t bother trying to salvage a sinking ship. After all, it’s an Underwater Adventure Film. The sinking ship would anyways go where it belonged. Underwater. Maybe you are pissed that someone as undeserving as Zayed Khan manages to sneakily co-star with a bevy of stars in movies which you compose music for with alarming frequency. Maybe you are trying a paradigm shift in the Indian music scene by moving the focus on the tune and its melodic content to a futuristic music setting where the tune takes a backseat and only the “sound” of the song matters. Maybe you fused this with the concept of stand-up comedy, by having tunes which are effectively one-liners, like the jokes dished out by the comedians. Feed the one-liner into a loop machine. Add layers of technology. Voila! Song Composed Manufactured.

Your early songs were all durable. I can still listen to “Chikku Bukku Rayile” with the same excitement as I did when I was six. But I already yawn at “Shanno Shanno”. Is it that you were an idealist youth then, and have been beaten down by age? Are you trying to prove with your present music that life itself is ephemeral, and nothing contrary to its fleetingness should be attempted? With all digital the sampling in your songs, are you trying to showcase the polarity of the views and the Manichean outlook that we seem to have towards life, universe and everything? Is it a lament on the binary distinction between the haves and have-nots? Are all those layers and layers of music a stark comment on the pervasiveness of Technology in Man’s life ? Is it an oblique reference to how complex life has become now, compared to the simple but creative life that Man led before, using Raja’s music as a metaphor? Or are you having a ball of a time playing “Emperor’s New Clothes” on a scale never attempted before?

At this moment, a line from “Padariyen Padipparieyen” in “Sindhu Bhairavi” comes to mind.

“Ennavo Raagam, Ennannavo Thaalam
Thalaya Aattum Puriyaadha Koottam”

It’s funny I had to choose a line from a Raja composition. Is it because your songs preclude lyrics gaining any important over your music that I was not able to recollect anything meaningful to put here? It’s also a bizarre coincidence that through the course of writing this letter, there was not even a single song composed by you in my playlist. Or is it?

I don’t want the sampling. I don’t want all those layers of music. I don’t want the technology. Just give me Rahman without the frills.

Yours lovingly

Ajay