new contribution to the song of the fortnight: aayegaa mere sapano.n kaa raajaa / Kaun? Kaise?

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At long last, another new article of mine has surfaced on the Panchammagic Song of the Fortnight page:

aayegaa mere sapano.n kaa raajaa / film: Kaun? Kaise? (1983) / lyrics: Gulshan Bawra
In the prelude, Pancham builds up harmonies around a vocal refrain (pam-param-pam) in three sections, each containing two renditions of this refrain accompanied by a IV-V chord progression. The first section has the bass (in the lower register) and the female chorus (in the higher register) playing in octaves accompanied by arpeggios from an electric guitar with a flanger. Another female chorus line enters in the second section to provide a two-part harmony with the thirds. Asha is heard in the third section adding the final line for a three-part harmony with a two note fifth/third descending part. The last segment continues as electronic percussion and the hi-hat enter. A short phrase on the bass introduces the string section. A short run on the strings, accompanied by a tap on the cymbal, closes the prelude accompanied by a IV-I progression.... [more]

[PS: The article gets a more permanent archive URL once a new post goes up; I'll update this post when that happens]

new contribution to the song of the fortnight: naa jaa o mere hamadam / Pyar Ka Mausam

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Another new article of mine has surfaced on the Panchammagic Song of the Fortnight page:

naa jaa o mere hamadam / film: Pyar Ka Mausam (1969) / lyrics: Majrooh
Our song for this edition, Lata's haunting naa jaa o mere hamadam comes off the Pyar ka Mausam soundtrack, which boasted nine songs that saw Pancham in fine form. Majrooh pens a familiar staple of Bollywood films: the heroine beseeching her lover to return to her after a lover's quarrel, or perhaps a misunderstanding of sorts. In addition to being one of Lata's best renditions, the song also boasts another example of Pancham's penchant for experimenting with arrangements and sounds: the striking (no pun intended) use of church bells. It's a Morricone-esque flourish employed for a different mood. But what mood is it? Despite the familiar territory, the trademark mix of elements makes the intent a bit ambiguous.
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[PS: The article gets a more permanent archive URL once a new post goes up; I'll update this post when that happens]

addendum: [august 25, 2006] The page has just received some cool embellishments: the LP cover and some sample audio clips.

[august 14, 2007]: URL updated.

new contribution to the song of the fortnight

{previous post in thread}

Another new article of mine has surfaced on the Panchammagic Song of the Fortnight page:

kyaa jaano (dekho ye mere ba.ndhe haath) / film: Bandhe Haath (1974) / lyrics: Majrooh
Bandhe Haath makes the record books as the only film to feature the lead pair of Amitabh Bachchan and Mumtaz as well as featuring Amitabh Bachchan's first double role. The film's box office failure fuelled Mumtaz's reluctance to star alongside Amitabh Bachchan and she opted out of Zanjeer (which broke the jinx of flops that ended with Bandhe Haath). The soundtrack boasted the cabaret boat song o maa.Njhii o maa.Njhii. and also featured Kishore's expository lament about impersonation that is the subject of this article.
Bachchan plays a thief on the run, who takes on the identity of a dead playwright and ends up leading a double life fraught with moral dilemmas and emotional conflicts. Bollywood films have given us numerous instances of the scenario where our protagonist converts a party song into a thinly veiled lament with lines whose meaning is obvious to everyone in the audience but not to most people at the party. I don't remember how kyaa jaano mai.n huu.N kaun is picturised in the film, but it fits this device like a glove, both in words and arrangements. Majrooh's simple words and lines like jalataa huu.N lekin pahaluu badal naa sakuu.N mai.n convey the anguish of repressed emotions and desires, the consequences of impersonation and duplicity.

Musically, the song has an interesting structure. In addition to the free-form humming that opens the song, we have three verses and two interludes. Each verse seems to be a composite of three components. Using the first verse (without the repetitions) as an example, the first two lines comprise the first part (let's call it F1 for convenience), the next two the second (F2) and the last two the third (F3).

क्या जानो मैं हूँ कौन मारा हुआ ज़िन्दगी का
मुझको तो महफ़िल में लाया हैइ प्यार किसी का
लग के गले से फिर भी मचल ना सकूँ मैं
देखो ये मेरे बंधे हाथ
कैसे मिलूँ तुमसे चाहूँ तो मिल ना सकूँ मैं
देखो ये मेरे बंधे हाथ

The structure of the song (repetitions omitted again for convenience) thus becomes:

Intro | {F1 F2 F3} | first interlude | {F1 F2 F3} | second interlude | {F1 F2 F3}

This breakdown proves useful when we consider the genesis of this song: the tune first appeared three years ago as tobu bole keno in R D Burman's first Bengali film venture Rajkumari starring Uttam Kumar and Tanuja. This was reportedly the first time Kishore Kumar sang for Uttam Kumar (who belts out the number at the piano while Tanuja listens with varying looks of affection). While the film didn't do well, all its songs reappeared in subsequent Hindi film assignments. The structure of the Bengali song is slightly different from that of the Hindi version:

F3 | first interlude | {F1 F2 F3} | second interlude | {F1 F2 F3}

The second interlude in the Bengali version became the first interlude in the Hindi version, which gives us a grand total of 3 interludes across the two songs. Despite the similarities, there are notable changes in the meter and the arrangements.

The Hindi recording seems to suffer from the murkiness and tuning shift that plagues a lot of R D Burman records (Kishore's jiinaa to hai is another example). Given the popularity of this song among fans of the composer and the singer, it wouldn't be a bad idea to add this to the next list of remasters. The song begins with an Em strum on the acoustic guitar. On cue, Kishore begins humming a free-form melody in the scale of Em. You can hear faint vibes accompanying him and near the end of this fragment the melody on the vibe features the seventh from the harmonic flavor of the minor scale. It also introduces one of the outlying notes in the song, the diminished 5th (Bb) in tandem with Kishore, who leads into the fifth and ends the fragment. It almost seems as if the vibe melody was providing Kishore his note. Kishore begins fragment F1 without any rhythmic accompaniment but still keeping slow time. Faint bass runs can be heard and the bass leads the rhythm section in to accompany Kishore's repetition of fragment F1. The percussion (a composite of conga and shakers) is minimal and yet bears the Pancham stamp all over. The trustworthy string section can also be heard, although not in the overt form that characterises the bulk of Bollywood songs. Also heard are stabs from the accordion, punctuating the lines Kishore sings. As Kishore begins fragment F2, the percussion changes pattern and you can hear the strings offering complement. A flute piece connects the end of fragment F2 and the beginning of fragment F3.

The outlandish flourish of Pancham is seen in the use of the minor second (F) during fragments F2 and F3. The foreign note appears on the chordal accompaniment at the end of fragment F2 and later marks the end of the melody of fragment F3; this fragment is built on the fifth, sixth, seventh of the natural minor but heavily uses the diminished fifth we heard during the introductory fragment. Fragments F2 and F3 elevate this song musically making it musically interesting and confirming the genius of Pancham at work.

The first interlude is introduced by the flute and then led by the accordion (playing chord stabs) with gentle intermittent vibes; the string section brings the short fragment to a close.

The second and third verses follow the structure of the first, but a few interesting additions appear. As Kishore repeats fragment F1, you can hear a violin providing accompaniment and then there's a pleasant brief piano run as Kishore moves to fragment F2.

A flute piece covers the last measures of the second verse and moves into the second interlude. This time around the accordion plays melodic fragments complemented by the string section. It's interesting to see how both interludes end delicately to introduce the verse that follows.

The song ends neatly on the fifth (B) as Kishore finishes the repetition of fragment F3 in the third verse. You can almost see our protagonist leaving the party at this point with the camera closing in on the one person most likely to have understood what was conveyed in the song.

[PS: The article gets a more permanent archive URL once a new post goes up; I'll update this post when that happens] july 01, 2006: URL updated.

new contribution to the song of the fortnight {previous post in thread}

A new article of mine has surfaced on the Panchammagic Song of the Fortnight page:

o ha.nsinii / film: Zehreela Insaan (1974) / lyrics: Majrooh
Zehreela Insaan was S R Puttanna Kanagal's remake of his Kannada hit Naagara Haavu based on a Talukina Ramaswami Subba Rao novel of the same name. That film made a star out of Vishnuvardhan but the Hindi remake directed by Kanagal himself didn't fare as well, making things a bit difficult for Rishi Kapoor. The most cherished artifact of the film, however, has been this Kishore gem, which, as rumour would have it, was originally meant to be a Shailendra Singh song.

This is a rather short song (a 2-line mukha.Daa and two 2-line a.ntaraas, minus all the repetitions for musical effect) and Majrooh employs simple Hindi and a handful of metaphors for a lover's call to his beloved. Pancham chooses to give the song a melody in a minor scale, a scale usually associated with sadness (although there are exceptions). The seed for the melody in the mukha.Daa seems to be Michelle Legrand's theme for the 1971 film Summer of '42. While Anu Malik used the same source to a greater extent in his prelude to tere dar par sanam in Phir Teri Kahani Yaad Ayee, Pancham limits his quote to "o ha.nsinii."
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[PS: The article gets a more permanent archive URL once a new post goes up; I'll update this post when that happens] may 02, 2006: URL updated.

the panchammagic song of the fortnight

The folks at Panchammagic.org are a swell enthusiastic bunch, who've been responsible for organising two shows in Pune every year dedicated to the music of the late great R D Burman. The first is on Jan 04 (RDB's death anniversary) and the other on June 27 (RDB's DOB). They've had a wide array of themes and several generous guests both famous (Gulzar, Amit Kumar, Bhupinder, Shailendra Singh) to the lesser-known (Homi Mulla, the late Marutirao Keer, Manohari Singh, Nitin Shankar).

They've been running a series called "Song of the Fortnight" with articles on RDB's music and had been kind and generous to ask YT to write something up for the series. Since I sent my first article, a few more have made it to the page. Pointers follow (with only extracts, so that these guys get some more hits)

dha.Dakan pal pal / film: Arjun (1985) / lyrics: Javed Akhtar
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The song opens with a spacey mix of sounds (dominated by a recurring synth motif and short flute passages) conveying a sense of mystery.

The electric guitar (which has a greater role to play later) makes its appearance with a few strums, as the music moves to a crescendo on the strings. Inexplicably, the music company (then MIL, now Universal) decided to exercise their "creative" veto and chopped off this opening minute of the song on subsequent non-vinyl releases.
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pyaar jab na diyaa / film: Sitamgar (1985) / lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
The case of the "Sitamgar" soundtrack is a strange one. All the songs on this album were gems. Even the unreleased seldom-heard Shailendra Singh song "kisii Gariib ke dil se" (having had the privilege of hearing it a couple of times, I am willing to accept this as his best song ever) was testimony to Pancham's ability to elevate even mundane common place lyrics with his melodies and musical embellishments. Yet, the soundtrack languishes in the doldrums. It's very rare, and neither the CD nor tape is as easily available as some of his other soundtracks. You'll be in luck only if you snag a few of those rare compilations with strange names and manage to find a stray inclusion. All this means that the soundtrack remains relatively "under-sung". Although the ISB transcriptions are almost all there, they can only present the lyrical content with hardly any hint of what Pancham had to offer to the song. It thus seems fitting to choose a song from the album (also the first song that I remember having heard from the list).
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har ek raasataa / film: Ameer Aadmi Gharib Aadmi (1985) / lyrics: Nida Fazli
In the early-to-mid 80s R. D. Burman was very busy. He boasted a full workload and was a favourite of the big banners. One camp of listeners lauded his creativity while another contended that he was overworked and headed for burnout. What could not be denied was the persistent diversity in his music. He continued to be a favourite for new launches: directors and actors making their débuts (and sometimes even their shot at a second coming). Amjad Khan was one such example. The talented actor chose Pancham as the music director not just for his directorial début (Adhura Aadmi), but also for the next two films he would helm (Chor Police, Ameer Aadmi Gharib Aadmi). Reportedly, these were above-average efforts and indicated that Amjad Khan was definitely a cut above the rest in mainstream filmmaking, but alas, the 80s did not prove to be a good time for either Amjad Khan or Pancham, who, as the 90s drew near, hit his worst streak of all time (paradoxically, so close to his winning run of work). He became box office poison, people withdrew from him, and he was left to watch one great song after another go down the drainpipe of anonymity as the films bit the dust at the box office (or worse, never made it to the box office). Amjad Khan had a couple of other movies to his name too, but these died either in pre-production or on their way to the marquee. And then there was Abhi To Main Jawaan Hoon.
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jiinaa to hai / film: Paanch Dushman (1973) / Daulat ke Dushman (1982) / lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
This lament from Paanch Dushman found new listeners thanks to featuring (with the original film name), along with other rarities, on the splendid 2-CD compilation Tumse Milke from HMV (the first of hopefully many more collaborations between this music publishing behemoth and the cleansing efforts of Pancham Studios). Its previous CD avatar (CDF 120419) was one of several attempts by HMV at squeezing several less-lauded movie soundtracks onto CDs. There it shared space with Balika Badhu and Doosri Sita under its revised moniker Daulat ke Dushman.
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The omission of the third allows the bass pattern to remain consistent throughout the song despite the shifts between a major and minor key. And in the mukha.Daa, the use of the F betrays an overlap of the prevailing E natural minor with E Phrygian. There's also the use of both sevenths, which would suggest the use of the harmonic minor scale.
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merii nazar hai tujhape / film: The Burning Train (1980) / lyrics: Sahir
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Set primarily in Abminor in standard tuning (and liberally exploiting the natural harmonic and melodic variants), the song opens with a flourish of brass after which violins backed by chord strums on an acoustic guitar join in. A drum roll marks the end of this fragment as the bass guitar tumbles in overlapping percussion spliced across the left (claves) and right channels (hi-hat) complement off-beat chord stabs on the synthesizer. The string section joins with three-note-fragments starting on the second count of each measure. The chord strums continue on the acoustic guitar. A short solo phrase is up next on the electric guitar with the brass providing a resounding response at the end of it. The brass section launches into a four measure contribution, before a percussive improvisation section featuring, among other things, the bass guitar, a shaker, congas, the hi-hat and the triangle. As if this was not enough, RDB now throws in the South Indian element by introducing the mridangam, which then proceeds to accompany phrases played out on the sitar. The return to the western element isn't too far away as the next segment features melodic phrases and chords played out on an acoustic guitar while another acoustic guitar provides constant strums of chords. The trumpet replaces the first acoustic guitar for the coda of the prelude as the bass guitar punctuates the measures. The off-beat synthesizer stabs return with the shaker and the acoustic guitar to provide the rhythm introducing the song.
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