Norah Jones and one of the ultimate love songs

It’s not the pale moon that excites me
That thrills and delights me
Oh no, it’s just the nearness of you

THE band had taken a break, when Norah Jones began the opening lines of the 75-year-old jazz standard ‘The Nearness of You’, with her piano providing the perfect backdrop for her solo rendition. She had sung the song in her Grammy-winning 2002 album ‘Come Away With Me’, and also made an appearance rendering it in the film ‘Two Weeks Notice’. This time, it was one of the clear highlights of her show at Mumbai’s Turf Club on March 3.

In her 90-minute set, Norah also rendered her biggest hits ‘Come Away With Me’, ‘Sunrise’ and ‘Don’t’ Know Why’, besides ‘Happy Pills’, ‘Miriam’, ‘Say Goodbye’, ‘Lone Star’ and ‘What Am I To You?’, among others. Her back-up band was superb, using keyboards and Hammond organ, electric guitars, bass and drums, and on some of the rearranged country-converted numbers, a double bass, acoustic guitar and accordion.

After the smash success of her first two albums, Norah’s recent recordings have tended to get repetitive and formula-driven. This is something we covered in the blog ‘The rise and stagnancy of Norah Jones’, posted on June 4 last year. Yet, despite much variety in terms of compositions, her live show was a true surprise, moreso because one would have expected her to sound better in a closed, intimate setting, rather than an open-air venue like the Turf Club. She sang beautifully and consistently.

That much about Norah’s performance, which she dedicated to her father, the late Pandit Ravi Shankar. Let’s now talk of the ever-so-popular ‘The Nearness Of You’, with which we began this feature.

Composed in 1938 by Hoagy Carmichael with lyrics by Ned Washington, this is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written. A marvellous tune, often backed by piano, and wonderful and simple words make it a classic. After the opening lines mentioned above, it continues with:

It isn’t your sweet conversation
That brings this sensation
Oh no, it’s just the nearness of you

When you’re in my arms
And I feel you so close to me
All my wildest dreams came true

I need no soft lights to enchant me
If you will only grant me
The right to hold you ever so tight
And to feel in the night
The nearness of you

Interestingly, it is also one of the most-covered songs ever. Like the other great standards ‘Summertime’, ‘Autumn Leaves’, ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’, ‘The Girl from Ipanema’, ‘My Funny Valentine’, ‘Nature Boy’ and ‘Fever’, it has been performed by numerous artistes in a variety of styles. And while Norah’s version is definitely popular among her fans, there have been many breath-taking and lesser-known versions by others.

The song was first featured in the 1938 film Romance In The Dark. The first really popular version, which begins with a long orchestral passage, was recorded by bandleader Glenn Miller. Ever since, we’ve had male versions, female versions, duets, instrumental jazz versions, vocal versions with jazz instrumentation, and even country, soul and blues versions.

The earlier generation of men who sang this song include Frank Sinatra, Matt Monro, Pat Boone, Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby and Paul Anka. Rod Stewart has rendered it in his inimitable style, and Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards has added his own touch in a bootleg recording, playing the piano himself.

Country superstar Willie Nelson, soul sensation James Brown and bluesman Dr John have adapted the tune to their genres. And there’s an absolute beauty (this blogger’s personal favourite) by super-singer James Taylor, with Michael Brecker on saxophone, Herbie Hancock on piano and Pat Metheny on guitar, on the album ‘The Ballad Book: Nearness of You’.

The women who have covered this song include Sarah Vaughan, Shirley Bassey, Etta James, Barbra Streisand, Judy Garland, Jo Stafford,  Sheena Easton, Diana Krall and Diane Reeves, besides Norah, of course. The collaborations include the great Ella Fitzgerald with Louis Armstrong on trumpet and vocals, Abbey Lincoln with pianist Hank Jones and Nancy Wilson with pianist George Shearing.

Some of the instrumental jazz versions are astounding. The great saxophonist Stan Getz has rendered it with trombonist Bob Brookmeyer, trumpeter Chet Baker has teamed up with saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, and saxophonist Joshua Redman has played a 12-minute improvisation with pianist Brad Mehldau. Another memorable collaboration was between alto saxophonist Charlie Parker, clarinettist Woody Herman and percussionist Tito Puente.

Saxophonists Ben Webster, Branford Marsalis, Sonny Stitt and Frank Morgan, pianist Red Garland, trumpeter Chris Botti, violinist Stephane Grappelli and vibraphonist Mike Manieri have also done commendable versions.

Besides these, there are many others who have covered this song. With so many fabulous versions over the years, where does Norah’s recording stand? Well, more than anybody else, she has introduced it to today’s younger generation. Though her fans are more likely to prefer her songs ‘Come Away With Me’, ‘Sunrise’ and ‘Don’t Know Why’, they have become aware of this jazz classic thanks to Norah. We wish more of the younger singers take such standards and carry them forward in a similar way.

Instruments from India ― 6/ The sarod

Above: Ustad Ali Akbar Khan

IN September 2012, I had begun a monthly series on Indian musical instruments. The aim was two-fold: one, to make Indian readers aware of certain artistes they might not have heard before, and secondly, to expose relatively new audiences, mainly from the West, to the melodic or rhythmic beauty that various Indian instruments offer.

In this series, I shall not go into too many technicalities and playing styles. I shall focus on how the instrument is used in different genres, and mention the leading performers in each style. However, while I have tried to name all the main musicians, the lists mentioned are by no means exhaustive or complete. In all parts of the series, I shall use a similar format to maintain uniformity, and some portions on the concert structure may be repeated verbatim if needed.

The earlier parts of the series talked about the violin, sitar, bansuri, sarangi and different types of veena. This month, we feature the sarod.

Above: Ustad Amjad Ali Khan

AFTER the sitar and tabla, the stringed instrument sarod is probably the most recognised among western audiences. And this was primarily because of the efforts made in the late 1950s and 1960s by Ustad Ali Akbar Khan to popularise Indian music abroad, just as Pandit Ravi Shankar did with the sitar. Within India and mainly among the younger generation, Ustad Amjad Ali Khan has also played a major role in spreading the instrument’s reach.

The sarod is mainly used in Hindustani or north Indian classical music, and unlike the sitar which had become a craze among western musicians, its use in fusion and experimental music has been relatively limited.

What makes the sarod challenging to play is the fact that it doesn’t have any frets, and thus requires total mastery on the musician’s part to play notes with sheer practice. However, its ability to play meends, or continuous slides between notes, makes it delightful to hear.

Here, we shall look at the instrument’s origins and playing styles, how it is played, major players ― or sarodiyas ― and its use in other kinds of music.

Origins and playing styles: Generally, it is believed that the sarod has descended from the Afghan rabab, popular in Afghanistan and central Asia. It was said to be brought to India from Afghanistan by Amjad Ali Khan’s ancestor Mohammed Hashmi Khan Bangash and later adapted by his grandson Ghulam Ali Khan Bangash.

The schools largely practised today are the Gwalior-Bangash gharana, popularised by Amjad Ali Khan’s father Hafiz Ali Khan, and the Senia-Maihar gharana created by Ali Akbar Khan’s father Baba Alauddin Khan.

Besides them, Radhika Mohan Maitra has played a stellar role as a teacher and sarod exponent. There is also the Lucknow-Bulandshahr gharana, whose best-known exponent was Ustad Sakhawat Hussain Khan. This tradition was hugely influenced by the dhrupad vocal style.

How it is played: The conventional sarod can have 17 to 25 strings, including strings to play the main melody, drone strings and sympathetic strings. The strings are normally made of steel or phosphor bronze, and are plucked with a triangular plectrum called java.

The sarod is primarily played by a solo artiste, with accompaniment from the tabla and from the stringed drone instrument tanpura. At times, it is also used as a duet (called jugalbandi) with other instruments, mainly the sitar. The best-known jugalbandis were between Ali Akbar Khan and Ravi Shankar.

A concert usually begins with the rendition of a classical raga, the melodic mode used in Indian music. The first piece comprises a three-part movement beginning with the slow alaap, increasing tempo with the jod and reaching an energetic climax with the jhala. Here, there is no tabla accompaniment.

After the alaap-jod-jhala sequence, the instrumentalist plays two or three compositions in the same raga, with tabla accompaniment. These are known as gats or bandishes, and while the sarodiya demonstrates his skill here, the tabla player also gets certain portions to play brisk passages, much to the audience’s delight.

Once this first raga is over, the sarodiya may play another raga, or may play certain light ragas, folk tunes or devotional pieces, depending on the time allotted.

Major players: We have already mentioned some of the greatest sarod players – Baba Alauddin Khan, Hafiz Ali Khan, Ali Akbar Khan, Radhika Mohan Maitra, Sakhawat Hussain Khan and Amjad Ali Khan.

Alauddin Khan’s nephew Ustad Bahadur Khan was also one of the stalwarts, till his death in 1989 at age 58. Well-known female sarod players are Zarin Daruwalla-Sharma, who learnt from many vocalists and adapted their style, and Sharan Rani Backliwal, who studied from Alauddin Khan and Ali Akbar Khan.

Other well-known practitioners are the late Vasant Rai, Kolkata-based Buddhadev Das Gupta, Biswajit Roy Chowdhury and Brij Narayan, son of sarangi maestro Pandit Ram Narayan.

Ali Akbar Khan groomed many talented sarod players. Besides his sons Aashish Khan, Dhyanesh Khan and Alam Khan, he has taught wonderful players like Ken Zuckerman, Rajeev Taranath and Tejendra Narayan Majumdar, who was earlier a disciple of Bahadur Khan. Partho Sarathy, another excellent sarod player, was under the direct guidance of Ravi Shankar.

Annapurna Devi, daughter of Alauddin Khan, is known as a surbahar player, but she has also groomed sarodiyas like Pradeep Barot, Basant Kabra and Suresh Vyas.

From the younger generation, Amjad Ali Khan’s sons Amaan and Ayaan have already made waves. Others in their 30s include Anupam Shobhakar, Arnab Chakravarthy and Apratim Majumdar. In Pakistan, Asad Qisilbash has established himself as a sarod player under the guidance of Amjad Ali Khan.

Some musicians have also created electric versions of the sarod. Pratyush Banerjee, adept at traditional sarod-playing too, has developed an electric sarod called Jyothi Dhwani. Amaan Ali Khan, with the help of instrument specialist, has developed an electric sarod called the Erod.

Use in other music: The sarod has been often used in Indian film music. Ali Akbar Khan has composed music for films in which he prominently used the sarod. These include Chetan Anand’s Aandhiyan, Merchant-Ivory’s The Householder and Satyajit Ray’s Devi, besides playing for composers Shankar-Jaikishen in the film Seema.

His son Aashish has played a major role in Indo-western collaborations and world music, and has performed with western musicians like George Harrison, Ringo Starr, Eric Clapton, saxophonists Charles Lloyd and John Handy, pianist Alice Coltrane, the world music group Strunz and Farah, and the Philadelphia String Quartet.

For his part, Amjad Ali Khan has played with the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, whereas Amaan and Ayaan have released the fusion albums Reincarnation and Mystic Dunes. In the first week of March, Amjad Ali and his sons will team up with the Avignon Orchestra in France on a four-city series in India that will blend Indian classical, western symphonic and electronic music.

Vasant Rai, who died prematurely at age 43, has jammed often with jazz flautist Herbie Mann and also taught western musicians like George Harrison and jazz saxophonist John Coltrane.

Among the younger musicians, Anupam Shobhakar has released the fusion album Wine of the Mystic and is also working on the album Way of the Warrior, besides doing a project with guitar-composer Joel Harrison. London-based Gurdev Singh, a student of Amjad Ali Khan, has played on Fate of Nations, the 1993 album released by Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin.

The fusion projects and international collaborations notwithstanding, the sarod is an absolute delight when heard in traditional Hindustani classical music. With its wonderful tone and ability to relax minds of listeners, it’s a sound that grows on you. And for those new to the instrument, an ideal way to begin is to hear Ali Akbar Khan’s raga Chandranandan, composed by him in the 1950s. It’s simply beautiful.

CD review/ Bends ― VRavi Guitar Fusion

Bends/ VRavi Guitar Fusion

Genre: Fusion

Live & Direct Entertainment and Media, under license from Ravi Iyer/ Rs 200

Rating: ****

WHEN one thinks of guitarist Ravi Iyer, one would normally visualise him playing a crackling solo once popularised by Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour, Deep Purple’s Ritchie Blackmore or blues-rock hero Gary Moore. As a crucial member of the bands Witchhammer, Vayu and Para Vayu, Ravi has made a mark as one of India’s most talented rock guitarists.

Rock is only one side to him, of course. Having had an early exposure to Indian classical music through his family, and learnt the tabla at an early age, Ravi has always wanted to do music blending Indian music with western forms. Back in 2003, he released the album ‘Rocking Ragas’ and last year, he came out with the really likeable ‘Bends’ under the group name VRavi Guitar Fusion.

Though there have been very few practitioners, the guitar has been used in Indian classical music for around half a century. Brij Bhushan Kabra and Vishwa Mohan Bhatt have modified it and used it like a lap slide, sitting cross-legged on the floor and playing it in pure Hindustani classical style, moving from alaap to jod to jhala to compositions set to rhythm.

Ravi’s style, in contrast, is not classical but fusion music. Yes, jazz guitarist John McLaughlin has used a lot of Indian music patterns while playing with Shakti and Remember Shakti, but there, his guitar always interacted with another melody instrument like L Shankar’s violin or U Shrinivas’ mandolin, or even with Shankar Mahadevan’s voice.

What Ravi does differently, besides sitting on a chair, is that his tunes concentrate totally on the guitar ― hence the name VRavi Guitar Fusion. He doesn’t play entire ragas, but tunes based on well-known ragas, and yet combines both Indian and western styles.

As such, though ‘Bends’ is an experimental fusion album, the effect these tunes provide is that of easy and relaxed listening. You find Hindustani meends (glides from one note to another) and Carnatic gamakas (ornamentations) on the one hand, and arpeggio patterns and jazz or blues progressions on the other.

While Ravi’s guitar is the obvious backbone of the album, he is supported by a team of talented musicians, comprising Clio Karabelias on harp, Pelle Kruse on blues mouth-harp, the well-known Sridar Parthasarathy on mridangam (a double-sided south Indian percussion instrument), tabla players Rupak Dhamankar and Rahul Pophali, bassists Crosby Fernandes and Sonu Sangameswaran, and drummer Jake Bloch. What’s interesting is that the album was recorded live at Mumbai’s Blue Frog in front of an audience, so one hears clapping at the end of some pieces.

The album begins with ‘Aum’, composed in raga Yaman. It starts off slowly, building up the mood, and suddenly increases tempo after four and a half minutes.  Besides smooth guitar passages, the highlight of this piece is Clio’s harp, which bubbles with melody.

Next comes an adaptation of the popular English folk tune ‘Greensleeves’, with charming use of Carnatic gamakas and a nice backdrop of maracas. ‘Hamsadhwani’, based on the raga of the same name, has a nice percussion backdrop and more maracas, with the guitar improvising over six minutes. The piece uses the typical ‘tihai’ movement (phrases being repeated thrice) smartly.

‘Todi Jaldi’, based on raga Todi, impresses with its layakari (rhythm-play) and a vibrant bass portion by Crosby, played against a repeated guitar phrase in the backdrop. ‘The Rain Song’ in raga Brindabani Sarang builds up with vibrant percussions, and boasts of stunning guitar improvisations, and an energetic climax in the classical jhala style.

The nearly-12-minute ‘Durganaad’, based on raga Durga, uses the western drums and even a guitar overdrive, with the main solo having a perfect jazz feel. For variety, ‘Perc It’ is a percussion duet between Sridar’s mridangam and Rupak’s tabla.

Two tunes are used in reprise versions. The ‘Todi Jaldi Reprise’ uses drums in place of mridangam, and doesn’t change much from the original otherwise. As such, one may feel it need not have been used as it just makes the album lengthier, without really adding value. But ‘The Rain Song Reprise’ is a marvellous changeover with heavy guitar distortion and Pelle’s improvisational blues mouth-harp, ending the album on a raw and bluesy note.

A note on the guitars. On the album, Ravi used a Greg Bennett hollowbody single-neck jazz guitar. But more, recently for his fusion concerts, he has got a custom-made double neck guitar designed by Sunil Shinde. Both necks have six strings. The top neck is tuned to play Indian classical scales and ragas, and the bottom one is adjusted to play western chords and jazz or blues progressions.

What makes ‘Bends’ special is that in spite of the jazz and blues elements, all the pieces have a distinct and pronounced Indianness to them. As such, it should appeal to both Indian and western audiences, besides those who like to experiment with their music. Needless to say, those who are strictly fans of only Ravi’s rock music should be willing to open their minds. If one looks at the broader skill of instrument-playing, ‘Bends’ is one of the most important guitar albums released in India.

RATING SCALE: * Poor; ** Average; *** Good; **** Excellent; ***** Simply outstanding

 

Donald Byrd and the other great jazz trumpeters

FOR jazz fans, this month began on a rather sad note, following the demise of ace trumpeter Donald Byrd at age 80 on February 4. As his family took time to confirm the news, the media obituaries have been appearing only over the past four days or so, with each writer remembering the enormous contribution made by him.

Byrd had a rich tone, clear phrasing and distinct style, which old-timers initially admired on his work with drummer Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. He released some remarkable albums with Blue Note Records, including ‘Byrd in Hand’, ‘A New Perspective’, ‘Kofi’, ‘Electric Byrd’ and ‘Places and Spaces’, besides venturing into rhythm and blues. And though his biggest seller ‘Black Byrd’ was sadly criticised by purists for being too pop, he actually introduced jazz to younger audiences through that 1973 effort.

Personally, I began listening to Byrd around 10 or 11 years after I became a jazz fan. Nobody had specifically recommended him to me, but I found his cassette ‘Caricatures’ at a record store. It had no liner notes, but seeing a trumpet on the cover, I picked it up. I heard him closely later, though there are still many albums from his enormous catalogue I am yet to hear. And while I have had many favourite trumpeters, Byrd’s style has always been special.

The news of Byrd’s demise also prompts me to recall my own fascination with the trumpet and think of some of the greatest trumpeters who have graced the world of jazz. After all, when one asks me about my favourite jazz instrument, I always say it is a toss-up between the trumpet and saxophone. But the former has a nostalgic advantage because I first got into jazz more by listening to some fabulous trumpet players.

In fact, rather than the trumpet, my jazz journey actually began in 1983 with Chuck Mangione’s rendition of the similar but somewhat sweeter-sounding flugelhorn. Mangione played more melodic pop-jazz, but tunes like ‘Feels So Good’, ‘Children of Sanchez’ and ‘Memories of Sirocco’ had me hooked.

The first trumpeter I saw live was the remarkable Woody Shaw at the 1984 Jazz Yatra in Delhi. He played with the great trombonist Steve Turre, and the show still buzzes in my brain. After that concert, I wanted to hear the trumpet more than anything else. And the LP I picked up next was ‘In Flagranti Delicto’ by trumpeter Ian Carr and his band Nucleus. Its sound was very much in keeping with the jazz-rock trend of the day.

Soon, there was a conscious effort to discover more trumpeters. The three biggest names came first. Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis and Dizzy Gillespie. Each had a different style, and each of them was a pioneer. I always loved Armstrong’s voice and his trumpet-playing, especially in those recordings with vocalist Ella Fitzgerald. But it was Miles who initially created a bigger impact on me with albums like ‘Kind of Blue’, ‘Sketches of Spain’ and ‘Bitches Brew’, even though I admired the last one more for its amalgamation of various instruments.

Much later, there was a long Dizzy Gillespie phase, after I heard his recordings with saxophonists Charlie Parker and Stan Getz, and also some of his early recordings. Simultaneously, I got into Chet Baker, and besides his trumpet, I simply loved the way he sang, especially on the album ‘Chet Baker Sings’. His version of the Rodgers-Hart standard ‘My Funny Valentine’ is a classic.

Over the years, other trumpeters to attract my attention were Freddie Hubbard, Herb Albert, Maynard Ferguson, Randy Brecker, Lee Morgan, Roy Hargrove and Clark Terry, besides old-timers like Roy Eldridge, Clifford Brown and Cat Anderson of the Duke Ellington Orchestra. I heard Don Cherry primarily for his fusion work rather than his jazz. And there was Bix Beiderbecke on the cornet, an instrument similar to the trumpet.

Interestingly, I first heard neo-classicist Wynton Marsalis a few months after I got into Byrd. But I was already so impressed by Byrd’s style that I found Marsalis dry, an opinion which thankfully changed later, on hearing his album ‘Hothouse Flowers’.

My later favourites include Arturo Sandoval, Nicholas Payton and Dave Douglas. Sandoval has a distinct style, blending Afro-Cuban music with jazz.  Payton did a marvellous dedication to Louis Armstrong on ‘Dear Louis’, whereas Douglas did a superb show in Mumbai at the Jazz Yatra over a decade ago. Chris Botti had a smooth tone but concentrated mainly on smooth jazz, rather than the rapidfire improvisation I always prefer. In a more relaxed mood, I would hear him.

There are some who I have heard sparingly or not at all. I saw South African concert great Hugh Masekela at a memorable concert in Mumbai, and on a DVD with Paul Simon, but haven’t heard his recordings. Doc Cheatham, Thad Jones, Kenny Dorham and Art Farmer are some well-known names whose records I haven’t found in Indian stores.

Obviously, the field of jazz trumpet has been filled with extraordinary talent. I may have missed some names because I wasn’t exposed to them, or by sheer oversight. And with so many great artistes, it’s always difficult to pinpoint one’s favourite. But Donald Byrd was always somewhere at the top. He shall be missed.

Three Indian rock albums you should check out

OVER the past few years, there’s been an increase in the number of album releases by English-singing Indian rock acts. If the field was earlier restricted to a select few like Indus Creed, Gary Lawyer, Pentagram, Brahma, Millennium, Agni and Skinny Alley, one has seen many others get into the record release space, either through well-known labels or private distribution.

One of the highlights of 2012 was the recording return of Indus Creed, which released an album after a 17-year gap. ‘Evolve’, which had three earlier members and two new ones, was reviewed earlier in this blog last May.

The past 12 months have seen hectic activity in both mainstream Indian rock and metal. Here, we review three albums that particularly impressed us, with the sheer quality of their musicianship. Interestingly, one is an eight-song single album of 30 minutes, one is a three-CD set of 28 songs, and one is a four-song EP. Here they go:

Element of Surprise ― Babu N Friends (Manta Records): A senior guitarist, Babu Choudhary is well-known on the Mumbai musical scene. Over the past few years, he has collaborated with many other musicians, and released the albums ‘The Electric Sky’ and ‘Somewhere Out There’ under the name Babu N Friends.

Choudhary’s latest album ‘Element of Surprise’, released last year, has appearances by guitarists Ehsaan Noorani, Arjun Sen and Kolkata veteran Amyt Datta, slide guitarist Prakash Sontakke, bassists Storms and Mohini Dey, drummer Ranjit Barot, keyboardist Zubin Balaporia, saxophonist Carl Clements and singer Shefali Alvarez, among others. And the great thing about this eight-track collection is that it has plenty of variety, as the songs smoothly blend rock, jazz, the blues, funk and fusion.

The four instrumental pieces are first-rate. ‘Shanti (for Amma’), which fuses a Yanniesque New Age sound with a Floyd-like ambience, has some moody keyboards by Jarviz Menezes and slide guitar by Sontakke. ‘Bablues’ starts off with a vocal  chant, but settles down with some impeccable guitaring by Arjun Sen, Amyt Datta and Chaudhary himself, with a neat keyboard interlude by Jarvis Menezes and tight drumming by Barot and basswork by Storms.

‘Boogie Hill’ has a smart jazz-rock groove, with Arjun Sen and Chaudhury on guitars, Sontakke on slide, Barot on drums and a marvellous bass stretch by Mohini Dey. Though one feels the end is a bit abrupt, this is an awesome number. Also on the instrumental list is the final number ‘Song for Shama’, which has charming tenor saxophone by Carl Clements, neat keyboards by Balaporia and marvellous guitaring by Ehsaan Noorani, Arjun Sen and Chaudhary. The song is very reminiscent of the 70s jazz-rock-funk fusion era, and this is the kind of piece you’ll play on repeat mode.

Of the vocal tracks, the opener ‘I Like IT Ruff’ features singer Jarvis Marcedo, and has a funk-meets-smooth jazz feel and a Santanaesque guitar solo by Chaudhary. ‘Walk’, which uses cello and strings, has vocals and guitar by Gerson D’Souza, who sounds particularly expressive on the lines “Screaming lungs make no sound.”  ‘Mr Preacher’, which has Marcedo again on vocals, has ironic lines like “Mr Preacher, made of flaws, Mr Preacher, breaking laws,” and a well-constructed horn section.

One of the clear winners is ‘Les Gurugiri’, which sees singer Shefali Alvares in prime form. Dedicated to music teachers, the song has lines like ‘O Guruji, give me your learning to feed my yearning, so I can become me.” The song has some masterly guitaring by Amyt Datta and Chaudhary.

Besides the variety, what’s welcome is that each song has been superbly produced and arranged. As such, ‘Element of Surprise’ never ceases to surprise.

3 Wheels 9 Lives – Thermal and a Quarter (EMI Music): Thermal and a Quarter, or TAAQ, is a three-piece band from Bangalore, comprising Bruce Lee Mani on vocals and guitar, Rajeev Rajagopal on drums and Prakash K N on bass. With brilliant solos, plenty of improvisation and a sound that amalgamates rock with jazz and the blues, the band has always been a treat to hear at live gigs.

This time, the band takes the risk of releasing a three-CD set, which includes two CDs of new songs and one containing singles created between 2010 and 2012. That makes it 28 songs in all ― a gutsy thing to do at a time when people are not going in for more than 10 or 12 songs at a time. The negative side to this is that it also requires a bit of patience to listen to each single CD at a stretch, especially when some songs or five or six minutes long.

The title ‘3 Wheels 9 Lives’ is dedicated to Bangalore’s autorickshaw (public three-wheeler) drivers, and the second song ‘Metre Mele One-and-a-Half’ actually talks of how they always charge one and a half times the fare.  In fact, one finds a few references to Bangalore, like in the song ‘Bangalore Flower’, which has the lines: “She’s a flower, a Bangalore flower, she’s got me in the zone.”

The highlight of the album is Mani’s consistent guitaring, and one hears some fabulous work on the numbers ‘Surrender’, ‘De-arranged’ and ‘Origami’. Other winners are ‘Terrible Trouble’, with its infectious hook, the peppy ‘If Them Blues’ and ‘For The Cat’, dedicated to singer Cat Stevens (check the lines, “A quiet calm in a wild world”).

On initial hearing, one may sense a certain sameness on many songs. But for variety, we have ‘Sad Moon’, which has vocals by the talented Priya Mendens, the instrumental ‘Ho-hum’ and the well-produced ‘Birthday’, which has a slight Beatles influence.

The bonus tracks include popular numbers like ‘Something You Said’ and ‘Kickbackistan’, but the real treats come from the live versions of ‘Mighty Strange’, with its tenor saxophone, soprano saxophone and keyboards, and ‘One Small Love’, which has amazing Carnatic flute by Ravi Kulur.

Though the sheer length may irk some, the truth is that the songs grow on regular listening. TAAQ has been around since 1996, releasing four albums before. ‘3 Wheels 9 Lives’ is one of their obvious career highlights.

Attention, Please (EP) ― Spud in the Box (Asli Music): Mumbai-based Spud in the Box is a relatively new band which has been regular on the live circuit. It’s being described as an alternative pop-rock band, and the good thing is that it’s pretty eclectic, drawing influences from rock, jazz, the blues, pop, folk and even a bit of Indian and western classical.

The EP, launched last month at Mumbai’s Blue Frog, has four tracks, and comes at a very affordable ₹ 60. Besides the tight instrumentation and excellent production, what’s really impressive is the quality of lyrics. For instance, the opening song, ‘Lens Life’ begins with the lines: “Lens life, I’ve been leading a lens life, I see the world through my filtered eyes; Lens life, I’ve been living a lens life, I know the world isn’t black and white.”

‘Lens Life’, which starts slowly and picks up tempo with a strong bassline and keyboards, is the kind of song that will grow on you. The next number ‘Attention, Please’ has a gorgeous guitar part, strong harmonies, and the lines: “You fall down on your homeground, you got your bruised knees; but nothing can hurt you like kisses and sympathy.”

‘Train of thought’ begins with a percussion beat, followed by keyboards and guitars, and the lines: “I can’t seem to recognise this face in the mirror, this familiar stranger.” The vocals in the higher register are rendered charmingly. Finally, ‘More than Once’ is very peppy for a couple of minutes and starts with the superb lines: “Once in a while I’ve been alone, once every night.” It changes direction after that with a short piano stretch and vibrant classical sargams, but somehow seems a bit stretched with an additional piano solo after a pause.

All in all, a very commendable effort by the band, which comprises Rohan Rajadhyaksha on keyboards and vocals, Ankit Dayal on vocals and guitar, Siddharth Talwar, Hartej Sawhney and session member Arjun Tandon on guitars, Zubin Bhatena on bass and Vivaan Kapoor on drums and percussion. Of particular note is the way the lead vocals have been accompanied by harmonies and back-ups. Among the younger bands, Spud In The Box really thinks out of the box.

Back at the Barsi

ON February 3 every year, a section of Mumbai’s music lovers religiously heads to the Shanmukhananda Hall in Sion East to attend the day-long Allarakha Barsi concert. Many officegoers even apply for leave in advance, though that wasn’t necessary this year as the event fell on a Sunday.

‘A Homage to Abbaji’, as it’s formally named, is held on this day to mark the great tabla maestro Ustad Allarakha’s death anniversary. The first Barsi in 2001 was in fact held at the Tata Theatre in Nariman Point, and later in the evening, at the Kala Ghoda festival. But for many years now, Shanmukhananda has been the fixed venue, with Allarakha’s son Ustad Zakir Hussain spearheading the planning and organising.

For those who haven’t attended it, the format is the same each time. The day begins at 6.30 am with Taal Pranam, first featuring a tabla ensemble consisting of students of the Ustad Allarakha Institute of Music and then moving on to purely Indian classical recitals, both in Hindustani and Carnatic music.

The afternoon session, Taal Tapasya, features solo or duet recitals by percussionists. This again showcases the pure form of percussion playing, and is primarily attended by musicians and hardcore drumming fans.

The evening session, Celebrate Abbaji, has special international guests joining Zakir and other Indian musicians on fusion music, and a multi-artiste jam session. The global musicians to have performed here include guitarist John McLaughlin, jazz saxophonist-flautist Charles Lloyd, saxophonist George Brooks, banjo great Bela Fleck, classical bassist Edgar Meyer, bassist-producer Bill Laswell, drummers Billy Cobham, Simon Phillips, Terry Bozzio, Pete Lockett and Eric Harland, conga genius Giovanni Hidalgo, African talking drum expert Sikiru Adepoju and Japanese taiko drummer Leonard Eto.

This year, the early morning tabla ensemble tribute was conducted by Zakir’s brother Fazal Qureshi. Mid-way, Zakir, Yogesh Samsi and Aditya Kalyanpur joined in. What needs to be noted ― and this is something that one has observed each year ― is that while Zakir did introduce them as students of the institute, it would have been a far better gesture if each student , as well as the harmonium player providing the lehera accompaniment, was introduced by name. That would have added to their spirit. On the contrary, what one sees at such shows is that only the famous names are repeated ad nauseam.

This performance was followed by a surbahar recital by sitar exponent Pandit Kartick Kumar, who paid tribute to his guru, the late Pandit Ravi Shankar. Mandolin wizard U Shrinivas then came on stage for a Carnatic recital, accompanied by Zakir on tabla. A Thyagaraja kriti, a ragam tanam pallavi and a bhajan were played with immense control.

The afternoon session featured Abbos Kosimov of Uzbekistan on the doira frame drum, a performance by Fazal Qureshi on tabla and mridangam exponents Palghat Rajamani Iyer and Kamalakar Rao, who paid homage to the great Carnatic mridangist Palghat Mani Iyer.

The evening session featured a trio comprising Bela Fleck, Edgar Meyer and Zakir. Fleck and Meyer have played at the Barsi before, and this time, the trio played tunes from their 2009 album ‘The Melody of Rhythm: Triple Concerto’, including ‘Cadence’ and ‘Bahar’ (mis-spelt on the CD as ‘Babar’). Meyer also did a wonderful adaptation of Bach’s ‘Second Suite for Unaccompanied Cello’.

Solos by Fleck and Zakir were played immaculately, and U Shrinivas, flautist Rakesh Chaurasia and sarangi player Sabir Khan made guest appearances on some numbers. One closely heard the interactions between Fleck and Shrinivas, and while both of them were technically brilliant, the Carnatic gamakas played by the mandolin maestro provided a distinct tone.

In the concluding jam session headed by Zakir, Trilok Gurtu mainly played the cajon, in which one sits on the percussion instrument while playing it, and Taufiq Qureshi played Indian rhythms on the African djembe. Drummer Ranjit Barot and Kosimov completed the percussion section.

Interestingly, the jam session was orderly and well-structured, unlike many times in the past, when it has become more of a tamasha filled with pyrotechnics just aimed at pleasing the gallery. With jam session regulars like singers Shankar Mahadevan and Roopkumar Rathod, sitar player Niladri Kumar, drummer Sivamani and kanjira champion Selvaganesh absent this time, one got to hear something different.

The jam session as such had the right build-up, some excellent percussion solos and no unwanted gimmickry. In fact, the entire day showcased a good combination of improvisation and restraint.

Finally, a word about the entry conditions. As the concert is free for the public, many people are relieved, moreso in these days when concert prices have shot up tremendously. However, for many, it becomes difficult or even impossible to get hold of passes.

The Shanmukhananda Hall has a huge capacity of over 2,750 seats. It has three levels ― main auditorium, first balcony and second balcony. For the main auditorium, passes with seat numbers are normally given to invitees, which consist of celebrities, musicians, the media, sponsors and other guests of the organisers.

The others get seating in the two balconies, and for this, advertisements are placed in the local dailies. This year, they could collect two passes per person from either Rhythm House at Kala Ghoda, the Maharashtra Watch & Gramophone Company in Dadar or the venue from February 1 onwards.

However, around 11 am on February 1, all three venues had run out of passes. Whether they went to the first lot of people who visited the venues or were deliberately kept back, nobody knows. But a lot of interested people and true music fans had to miss the concert because passes were unavailable. And strangely, the ads appeared on February 2 too, disappointing even more people.

Such a thing happens every year, and it’s time the organisers pay serious attention to this. For such a huge hall, it’s sad that quite a few people are forced to miss out.

‘Les Miserables’: A musical film with a difference

(Above): Anne Hathaway in ‘Les Miserables’

AFTER watching and enjoying Tom Hooper’s mega-musical ‘Les Miserables’, and then checking out its eight Oscar nominations, one was initially surprised that the film wasn’t in the shortlist for best musical score. After all, Claude-Michel Schonberg’s outstanding music and Herbert Kretzmer’s English lyrics form the backbone of the film.

‘Les Miserables’, which has an ensemble cast that includes Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried, Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter, is one of the most unusual film musicals ever released. But the reason for not making the nomination list is actually simple, and even justified from the Academy Award committee’s viewpoint. The award is for Best Music (Original Score), and the ‘Les Miserables’ score is not original, as the same songs were used in the hugely successful stage musical by Alain Boublil and Schonberg.

The Best Music (Original Score) category will thus be a toss-up between ‘Anna Karenina’ (music by Dario Marianelli), ‘Argo’ (Alexandre Desplat), ‘Life of Pi’ (Mychael Danna), ‘Lincoln’ (the great John Williams) and ‘Skyfall’ (Thomas Newman). Here again, one is surprised Hans Zimmer didn’t get a nomination for ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ and Fernando Velazquez wasn’t considered for ‘The Impossible’, with both movies having strikingly powerful soundtracks.

To come back to ‘Les Miserables’, Schonberg did make it to the list for Best Music (Original Song). This was for ‘Suddenly’, a new song specially created for the film, and picturised on Hugh Jackman. But here, the competition is rather tough, the other nominees being Adele for the ‘Skyfall’ title song, composer Mychael Danna and singer Bombay Jayashri for ‘Pi’s Lullaby’ from ‘Life of Pi’, Walter Murphy and Norah Jones for ‘Everybody Needs A Best Friend’ from ‘Ted’ and J Ralph, Scarlett Johansson and violinist Joshua Bell for ‘Before My Time’ from ‘Chasing Ice’.

On the technical side, the ‘Les Miserables’ team of Andy Nelson, Mark Paterson and Simon Hayes has been nominated in the Best Sound Mixing category, along with ‘Lincoln’, ‘Argo’, ‘Life of Pi’ and ‘Skyfall’.

Oscar or no Oscar, there are many things that make Schonberg’s music special, and for that director Hooper deserves equal credit. To begin with, barring the odd exception here and there, all the dialogues are sung. The composer and lyricist make intelligent use of rhyming couplets, using simple phrases that build the story magnificently.

On the one hand, the film contains the hit songs from the stage musical, like ‘I Dreamed A Dream’, ‘One Day More’, ‘Master of the House’ ‘Look Down’ and ‘On My Own’. On the other, the fact that the dialogues are sung give it a unique quality.

To be sure, this experiment may not please everybody. Those who aren’t in favour of excess music in a film may feel it would have been much better had the dialogues been spoken naturally, instead of being sung everywhere. But then, the words have been used very simply, and if one accepts this concept on its face value and pays close attention to the lines, one should really enjoy.

The second quality of this film is that the actors sing the songs themselves. This is, of course, not new, as numerous films have done that in the past, and it’s now become a regular trend, especially in music-related biopics and film musicals.

Among the biopics, Sissy Spacek sang songs of Loretta Lynn in ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’, Jamie Foxx sang Ray Charles tunes in ‘Ray’ and Joaquin Phoenix sang Johnny Cash numbers in ‘Walk The Line’. Of the other films, we’ve had Meryl Streep and Amanda Seyfried singing in ‘Mamma Mia’, Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor in ‘Moulin Rouge’, Renee Zellwegger, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Richard Gere in ‘Chicago’, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter in ‘Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street’ and Tom Cruise in ‘Rock of Ages’. There are many more examples.

But what makes ‘Les Miserables’ unique is the risky decision of director Hooper to avoid pre-recording the songs and make the actors lip-sync. Instead, the songs are sung live and recorded even as the camera is moving, lending a certain authenticity to the way they have been picturised. In that sense, the movie follows all the rules of opera music in its execution.

This technique of recording songs live was common in the 1930s, but the last time it was used was in the disastrous 1975 film ‘At Long Last Love’, starring Burt Reynolds and Cybill Shepherd. Coming for the first time in 37 years in an English film, Hooper does rather well, getting the actors to blend the right facial expression with vocal ability. There may be times when one feels professional singers may have sung the songs more perfectly, but that may have looked a bit unnatural here.

Keeping the acting quotient in mind, the cast does a great job with the vocals. Anne Hathaway sounds simply soulful in ‘I Dreamed a Dream’, and newcomer Samantha Barks is just perfect for ‘On My Own’. Hugh Jackman has many songs including ‘Look Down’ and ‘Suddenly’, and Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter lend a nice comic touch to ‘Master of the House’. But the real surprise is Russell Crowe, who underwent special training for this singing role, and proved that he has a wonderful texture and range on the songs ‘Stars’ and ‘Javert’s Suicide’. Besides these, some of the group songs have been choreographed perfectly.

In some ways, ‘Les Miserables has the makings of a ‘cult musical’.  If one goes by common definition, a ‘cult film’ or a ‘cult classic’ has a limited but really diehard set of admirers, who would totally swear by the film, and watch it again and again. However, at the same time, there would be a sizeable section which would either detest it, not understand it or wonder what the fuss was all about. Moreover, a cult film sets new trends, as many others try to make similar movies later.

Both these kinds of audiences may happen with ‘Les Miserables’. There will be one section which may totally love the movie, for its scale, performances and music. And there will be another which may get instantly turned off after seeing everyone just rattle off into song, and feel the 158-minute length is a bit much for such a venture.

The reviews in the British and American media have been largely positive, and the film did good commercial business too, being the largest opening weekend for a musical film in the UK. Keeping this in mind, it’s likely that other filmmakers will go in for similar projects. But going by the divided reactions, the film may never gain the mass following of ‘The Sound of Music’ or ‘Saturday Night Fever’.

The trick in watching such a film is to accept the concept for what it is, and listen to each and every singaloque patiently. And if you’ve loved it the first time, chances are that you’ll enjoy it even more on second viewing. Though they may be quite different in treatment, one may tend to compare ‘Les Miserables’ with musicals like ‘Fiddler On The Roof’ or ‘Oliver!’, going mainly by their setting, and the fact that they were adaptations of stage musicals.

As for a music Oscar, it doesn’t really matter. Here was a film that dared to change the way film musicals are made. And for that Hooper, Schonberg and Kretzmer will depend more on the public’s reaction to their musical treatment than on awards.

Journalistic encounters with Pandit Bhimsen Joshi

(In picture); Pandit Bhimsen Joshi at the Taj Mahal Hotel, Mumbai, in 1997 for the launch of the six-cassette series to mark his 75th birthday. That’s me in the centre, holding a notebook and pen, not a plate and spoon as some might think!

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Today, January 24 2013, is the second death anniversary of Kirana gharana doyen Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, one of the greatest voices the world has ever heard. As a tribute, I look back at the three times I met him as a journalist. Each meeting had a different setting and result, but was memorable in its own way.

Meeting No 1

January 1995

I still remember that morning when I suddenly bumped into Bhimsen-ji at a hotel in Indore, Madhya Pradesh. I had just joined Mid Day newspaper as chief sub editor on the business desk. I didn’t write articles those days, and was yet to enter the totally exciting domain of music journalism.

Bhimsen-ji was staying in the next room. He stood in the corridor outside, humming a tune. I didn’t want to disturb him, but his eyes met mine, and I nodded my head in respect. He smiled, and not knowing how to begin the conversation, I asked him in Kannada: “Bhimsen Joshi avaru?”

As that would literally translate to “Are you Bhimsen Joshi?”, I felt rather embarrassed the moment I completed my question. He replied, “Houdu.” Which means ‘Yes”. There was a pause, after which he asked: “Yaav ooru?” Which city? I said, Dharwad. The north Karnataka connection was made. The ice was broken.

Bhimsen-ji was in Indore for a concert. When I told him my surname, he recalled meeting my grandfather when he was still young, much before I was born. And when I told him my profession, he invited me to his room to do an article on him.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to do, as I wasn’t ready to interview such a legend. I didn’t have the guts, or even that writer’s instinct. The thought didn’t excite me much. I wanted to escape. And so, I lied to him. Through my teeth.

I told him I had to rush to catch a flight (which was actually much later in the evening), and would definitely meet him some other time. We exchanged telephone numbers. We spoke for a few minutes about Dharwad, its weather and its pedhas. We bid each other goodbye, and he returned to the tune he was humming.

Later, while returning to Mumbai, I kept wondering why I had shunned that golden chance. I had known a fair bit about Indian classical music, because my mother was a student, and we used to go to Pandit Jasraj’s house from the time I was eight or nine years old.

I knew the basic things about Bhimsen-ji too, and had even attended his concerts and listened to his recordings. I admired his ragas Puriya, Maru Bihag and Marwa, not because I understood them, but because my uncles played them so often, and I found them aesthetically appealing. ‘Jamuna ke Teer’, ‘Jo Bhaje Hari ko Sada’, ‘Bhagyada Lakshmi Baaramma’ and ‘Teerth Vithal’ were songs I personally loved. They moved me each time.

I knew that Bhimsen-ji hailed from north Karnataka, and he was now settled in Pune. I knew a bit about his life and how he found his guru Sawai Gandharva nearer home after searching for a teacher in various places across India. I had heard stories of his drinking days too, and that he had given up the habit. His senior disciple Madhav Gudi was even known closely to our family.

I could have easily done that interview, but I didn’t. And I didn’t even follow the classical music etiquette of touching his feet before leaving. The thought never struck me.

For a few days, I tried to console myself. How could a struggler like me interview such a famous personality? That too without any proper preparation? At such short notice? What if I showed my ignorance about certain things he might talk of? Details of ragas and names of other musicians? At the same time, if I had bumped into my favourite rock musicians Ian Anderson and Eric Clapton, wouldn’t I have gone any length to interview them?

I mentioned this meeting to my father a few days later, but otherwise, kept it to myself. I didn’t dare tell my seniors at Mid Day. I don’t remember where I kept Bhimsen-ji’s telephone number. And I gradually forgot about the incident, though somewhere deep inside, I regretted my action. I still do.

Meeting No 2

January 1997

THE Gateway Room of Mumbai’s luxurious Taj Mahal Hotel was filled with mediapersons. There were quite a few TV channels hungry for their bytes, newspaper journalists looking for interviews and seasoned classical music critics who had been personally invited by the label Music Today for the launch of the six-cassette ‘Bhimsen Joshi Series’.

By this time, I had spent a year and a half in music journalism. I normally covered jazz, rock, ghazals and Indipop, but had also written about a few younger classical musicians. I loved classical music, but my knowledge of the subject was very basic. I was yet to interview any of the senior artistes, but through a few concert visits and press conferences, had begun to gain an understanding of how the classical world functioned. Of the difference between ‘tameez’ and ‘tauheen’.

The series was being launched on the eve of Bhimsen-ji’s 75^th birthday, which was to fall on February 4. In the crowd, I did manage to meet him for a minute. Instantly, I touched his feet, and spoke in Kannada about our earlier meeting, which he had obviously forgotten.

I was hoping to get a few minutes of exclusive time with him, but the organisers didn’t permit that. So I was grouped with two channels and two other newspapers, and wasn’t allowed to speak because it would disturb the TV footage.

I had done my homework this time, and prepared a few questions, including seemingly-technical ones. But the TV channels grabbed all the attention, naturally. I just jotted down whatever he told the camera, and based on those notes and my own background work, wrote an article which appeared like he had spoken exclusively to me. Boss was happy. I too was convinced I could now cover classical music.

The good thing, of course, was that Music Today presented each journalist with the entire six-cassette set. It contained some of Bhimsen-ji’s older recordings ― ragas Multani, Puriya Dhanashree, Yaman Kalyan, Brindabani Sarang, Asavari Todi and Chhaya Malhar, besides thumris in Bhairavi and Khamaj, and Marathi natya sangeet.

Over the next few days, I heard all those tapes, and discovered a wealth of music. I also went back to some of Bhimsen-ji’s ragas and bhajans I had heard while growing up. It was the beginning of a phase, which continues today.

Soon, I converted myself from someone fond of Hindustani classical music to someone passionate about it. I attended as many concerts and music festivals as possible, and read books by Mohan Nadkarni and Raghava R Menon. I heard the familiar recordings of Jasraj and Kumar Gandharva, and the unfamiliar ones of Kishori Amonkar and Ustad Amir Khan. I tried to follow Shivkumar Sharma, Hariprasad Chaurasia and Amjad Ali Khan with greater interest. I wanted to learn as many new things as I could.

If any inhibitions still existed about interviewing legendary musicians, they were smashed a couple of weeks later during my first meeting with Pandit Ravi Shankar. The sitar maestro had been so warm and friendly, that never for once had I thought I was speaking to such a senior and admired artiste. I was captivated and hooked.

Meeting No 3

October 2001

IT was meant to be a historic concert, appropriately named ‘Tapasya’. On Gandhi Jayanti, 2001, three of the country’s finest vocalists were scheduled to appear at Mumbai’s Shanmukhananda Hall. Pandit Jasraj, Pandit CR Vyas and Bhimsen-ji were to sing in that order, the seniormost always appearing last.

The previous day, I had met Bhimsen-ji for an interview. All the fears about meeting great classical musicians had disappeared long ago, and I had myself requested the organisers to fix up the interview. By this time, I was heavily into classical music, though my colleague Amit Karmarkar, a sports reporter at Mid-Day, invariably gave me a complex with his extensive knowledge of ragas and bandishes.

Bhimsen-ji’s son Shrinivas was with him that time, and was initially trying to answer on his father’s behalf. English newspaper, English translation. But seeing me ask a few questions in Kannada, he backed out.

It took a while for Bhimsen-ji to open up, but once he did, there was no stopping him. In every way, the conversation was like the unfolding of a raga, starting at a slow, leisurely pace like the alaap, and then picking up tempo gradually, before culminating in a volley of words. He expressed himself so naturally and effortlessly that I felt he was actually singing boltaans, taans and gamaks.

The conversation lasted well over an hour. Bhimsen-ji talked about many things, beginning with the early days of classical music when there were baithaks and all-night concerts. He described how he was influenced by Kirana gharana legend Ustad Abdul Karim Khan. He talked of his guru Sawai Gandharva, gurubahen Gangubai Hangal, gurubhai Pandit Firoz Dastur, the Kirana gharana in specific and the other gharanas in general. He spoke of the importance of guru shishya parampara – GSP in my notes.

He talked of singers like Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Amir Khan, Omkarnath Thakur and Dattatreya Vishnu Paluskar, even Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle. He praised the harmonium greats Appa Jalgaonkar, Purushottam Walawalkar and Tulsidas Borkar, and tabla maestros Shaik Dawood and Nana Mulay. He mentioned the challenges faced by the genre, and also expressed hope that there was a lot of young talent around. He was in a mood, and he was in his element.

Sadly, because of heavy advertisements and a fewer number of pages in next day’s holiday newspaper, a lot of points made in the interview had to be cut. The published version was only about 400 words, and though I did try my best to get the entire interview published later, it didn’t materialise. Unfortunately, I didn’t even keep the book in which I had taken down my notes, just in case I needed them later. And I never recorded interviews.

On October 2, Shanmukhananda Hall witnessed a memorable concert. Jasraj first sang raga Purvi and the famous bhajan ‘Om Namoh Bhagwate Vasudevaya’. CR Vyas then rendered Shuddha Kalyan and Bihag. And Bhimsen-ji completed the proceedings with Puriya Kalyan, a thumri in Kirwani and the famous Bhairavi bhajan ‘Jo Bhaje Hari Ko Sada’.

After that, I saw Bhimsen-ji only once in concert, singing Puriya Dhanashree at the Nehru Centre a couple of years later. He sang well, but not for too long, and definitely not in the same range. Healthwise, he had been having ups and downs, and his visits to Mumbai decreased.

I too shifted jobs and career, and never met him after that. But I kept exploring his music. Besides the ragas and popular devotional songs, I got into his Kannada bhajans and Marathi abhangs. My new favourites were ‘Sada Enna Hrudayadalli’ and ‘Maajhe Maaher Pandhari’.

The end

January 24, 2011

I was in Chennai for a fortnight to conduct a training programme. As my guest house was just behind the famous Music Academy, I attended a lot of Carnatic concerts after work. On January 23, I was at a fusion show featuring flautist Hariprasad Chaurasia, saxophonist George Brooks and Gwyneth Wentinck on harp.

I was still reeling under the magic of that event, and recalling my short meeting with Chaurasia, when I casually put on the TV the next morning. The headlines read, ‘Bhimsen Joshi Dead’. I was stunned. Not knowing what to do next, I informed my colleagues that I would start the training a couple of hours later. Soon, tributes began flowing from everywhere ― on TV channels, on SMS, on Facebook. I joined the nation in its sorrow.

Though I was in for a hectic day and knew it would be practically difficult to meet deadlines, I just hoped some newspaper would request me to write an obituary. Nobody called, and I let it pass. Since I wasn’t carrying any of his music on that tour, I picked up a few of his CDs and spent the next few days listening to ragas Kaunsi Kanada, Puriya, Ahir Bhairav and Shuddha Sarang.

The memories of those three meetings came back to me, as they do again today. Each had a different outcome. In the first encounter, he had requested me to write about him, and I foolishly ran away. In the second, I had prepared myself, but didn’t get a chance to ask what I wanted to. And in the third, he had spoken at great length, but because of space constraints, I could publish only a fraction of it. Three interactions, three outcomes.

Whatever the fate of those meetings, the fact is that Bhimsen-ji’s gayaki has moved me as much as it has millions of other rasikas. His voice, undoubtedly, has been one of God’s biggest gifts to the art of creative expression. He had his own style, his own approach. He symbolised the golden era of Hindustani classical music, and he shall enchant our hearts and minds forever.

Instruments from India – 5/ The veena

IN September, I had begun a monthly series on Indian musical instruments. The aim was two-fold: one, to make Indian readers aware of certain artistes they might not have heard before, and secondly, to expose relatively new audiences, mainly from the West, to the melodic or rhythmic beauty that various Indian instruments offer.

In this series, I shall not go into too many technicalities and playing styles. I shall focus on how the instrument is used in different genres, and mention the leading performers in each style. However, while I have tried to name all the main musicians, the lists mentioned are by no means exhaustive or complete. In all parts of the series, I shall use a similar format to maintain uniformity, and some portions on the concert structure may be repeated verbatim if needed.

The first four parts of the series talked about the violin, sitar, bamboo flute and sarangi, respectively. This month, we feature different instruments that go under the name ‘veena’.

WHEN one mentions the word ‘veena’, listeners of south Indian Carnatic music will think of an instrument quite different from what followers of north Indian Hindustani music will imagine.

Both north and south have more than one type of veena. And though all of them are stringed instruments and even look more or less similar, the tone and playing techniques are quite different.

In Carnatic music, the most common type is the Saraswati veena. However, the chitraveena, or gotuvadyam as it is also known, also has a following. In Hindustani music, the Rudra veena was played a lot in the past in the dhrupad form of music. The vichitra veena, though similar to the chitraveena, is also used.

While all these are traditional forms of the veena, the name Mohan veena is also heard often in Hindustani music today, thanks to its exponent Pandit Vishwa Mohan Bhatt, who essentially adapted the Archtop guitar. While the guitar was played in Hindustani style by Pandit Brij Bhushan Kabra, the Mohan veena was evolved through additional improvisations and sympathetic strings developed by Bhatt. We shall talk of the Mohan veena in a subsequent blog which will focus on how certain western instruments have been adapted for Indian music.

In this column, we shall focus on the traditional veena, beginning with Carnatic music and then talking of Hindustani.

Above: Chitti Babu on Saraswati veena

Carnatic music – Saraswati veena: After the violin, the Saraswati veena is the most popular melody instrument in Carnatic music. The name is derived from the fact that Goddess Saraswati is often depicted playing or holding the instrument.

Dating from the Vedic period, the Saraswati veena is one of the oldest instruments of the region. It is mentioned in many pieces of ancient literature, and well-known practitioners from that era include the Hindu sage Narada and Ravana, the antagonist in the Ramayana.

Around four feet in length, the Saraswati veena has a large resonator and a small gourd, while the main neck has frets. The gourd is placed on the player’s left thigh while the resonator is placed on the floor. The performance is often accompanied by percussion instruments like the mridangam and ghatam.

Some of the earliest greats in veena playing included the doyenne Veenai Dhanammal and Veene Sheshanna, both well-known in the 19^th century. Veene Venkatagiriappa was also among the early players.

In the 20^th century, many legends popularised the instrument, and the best known were Doraiswamy Iyengar, Chitti Babu, S Balachander and Emani Sankara Sastry. Others included Ranganayaki Rajagopalan, Rugmini Gopalakrishnan, Prince Rama Varma and Mangalam Muthuswamy.

The contemporary players include the extremely popular E Gayathri, Jayanthi Kumaresh, Jaysrri-Jeyraaj, Narayan Mani and Nirmala Rajashekar.

An interesting bit of trivia is that renowned jazz guitarist John McLaughlin got attracted to Indian music after hearing S Balachander play the Saraswati veena over the radio. He was so mesmerised by its beauty that he decided to explore more and more of Indian music.

And yes, many would have also known that APJ Abdul Kalam, former President of India, also played the saraswati veena as a hobby.

Above: N Ravikiran on chitravena

Carnatic music – Chitraveena: Compared to the Saraswati veena, the chitraveena or gotuvadyam has had a much fewer number of exponents. Today, of course, the major star is N Ravikiran, who has not only done some fantastic Carnatic concerts and recordings, but has also experimented by collaborating with western orchestras.

Though its use can be traced to north Indian dance music, the chitraveena is today exclusively used in Carnatic music, and has also been played in duets with Hindustani musicians. It has no frets, and 20 or 21 strings, and is played with a slide like the Hawaiian guitar or like the north Indian vichitra veena.

The chitraveena was first popularised by Sakharam Rao, but it was Narayan Iyengar of the Mysore palace who really expanded its fame. N Ravikiran is his grandson. And besides the traditional chitraveena, he has developed a modern version called navachitraveena.

Among the other exponents, Seetha Doraiswamy is better known for playing the jal tarang (a melodic percussion instrument using bowls of water), but also plays the chitraveena and a variant called the balakokila.

Above: Zia Mohiuddin Dagar on Rudra veena

Hindustani music – Rudra veena: Rarely played today, the Rudra veena is the only melody instrument used prominently in the dhrupad style, one of the earlier forms of Hindustani music. The instrument became less popular after more people took to the surbahar and later the sitar.

The term Rudra veena is derived from Rudra, another name for Lord Shiva. Its length ranges from 54 to 62 inches, and it has two large resonators connected by a fretted surface. In a concert, the earlier generation normally played with the backdrop of only the tanpura, the stringed drone instrument, whereas later ‘beenkars’ were accompanied by the percussion instrument pakhawaj in the latter part of their performances.

The Rudra veena has been played for generations, and even the Sufi saint and multi-instrumentalist Baba Inayat Khan practised it. But of all players, Zia Mohiuddin Dagar was primarily responsible for reviving the instrument as a solo instrument.

Though his father Ziauddin Khan Dagar discouraged him from experimenting with its basic form, Mohiuddin made certain innovations later. After his death in 1990, his son Bahauddin Dagar carried his tradition forward.

Among later players, Asad Ali Khan of the Jaipur beenkar gharana took the instrument to further levels, and even popularised it abroad on regular tours. In fact, he had many foreign students and was unhappy that many Indians didn’t take to the instrument.

Other well-known Rudra veena exponents include Shamsuddin Faridi Desai, Suvir Misra, Bande Ali Khan and Bindu Madhav Pathak, whose son Shrikant Pathak represents the younger generation. Very few women play the Rudra veena, and Jyoti Hegde is the best-known among them.

A modification of the instrument, called the Shruti veena, was created by musician and researcher Lalmani Misra, though it has been used more in demonstrations than in actual concerts. As for the Rudra veena, it is barely played today, despite the phenomenal efforts by some of its practitioners.

Above: Radhika Umdekar Budhkar on vichitra veena

Hindustani music – Vichitra veena: This instrument is quite similar to the chitraveena in that it has no frets and is played with a slide. It was often used to accompany the dhrupad style of singing, and had almost become extinct till it was revived by Lalmani Misra.

Despite its wonderful tone and the pakhawaj accompaniment, the players are by and large not well known even among hardcore classical audiences. Some of them include Gopal Krishan, Shri Krishan Sharma, Brahm Sarup Singh, Anurag Singh and Lalmani Misra’s son Gopal Shankar Misra.

The first woman to play this instrument is Radhika Umdekar Budhkar. The instrument has quite a few players in Pakistan and this week, one read of Gianni Ricchizzi of Italy playing a concert in Mumbai.

(Above) Balachander on Chandra veena

Innovations: Chandra veena: Chandra Veena is an attempt to bring out the best of Rudra Veena and Saraswati Veena in a single instrument. Its known practioner if Balachander, disciple of Zia Mohiuddin Dagar and vocalist Zia Fariduddin Dagar. This instrument has been based on Saraswati Veena but designed by him, based on the needs of dhrupad. This involves more sustain and resonance, better bass response and wider frets for deflecting more notes in a phrase.

Overall, though their importance has decreased in Hindustani music, there is quite a following for the Carnatic veenas. And the best thing about any of the instruments mentioned above is their tonal quality, and the ability to relax listeners through their sheer melody.

How to write a superhit Bollywood item song

MEET Lekh Tezkalam, an enthusiastic 24-year-old who walks up to a film production house with heaps of self-written songs and a bagful of dreams. Though he’s been helping in his father’s business after finishing college, his ambition is to become a lyricist in Hindi cinema.

Lekh is escorted to a swanky room and introduced to Shotcall Singh, an upcoming film director, and Dhun Churanewala, a music composer who also goes by the name of Gadget Guru.  Pakodas and tea are ordered, and soon, the three-way conversation goes like this:

Director: Yes, young man, you want to become a lyricist. Can we have a brief background about you?

Lyricist: Sure sir. I am Lekh Tezkalam. I have been following good poetry and lyrics since I was a kid, and I write songs too. I’ve always wanted to become a well-known lyricist. My biggest influences are Ghalib, Bahadur Shah Zafar and Faiz Ahmed Faiz in Urdu poetry, and Shailendra, Sahir Ludhianvi, Shakeel Badayuni and Anand Bakshi in films.

Director: Good for you. I haven’t heard the names you mention, except Bakshi.

Composer: My grandfather used to mention some of them after two pegs of whisky. Anyway, how will you be able to help us?

Lyricist: As I said, I write songs. So far, it was a hobby, but I want to make it a profession. I want to write meaningful and memorable songs, whether on romance, sadness, happiness, tragedy, any subject. I have with me 27 songs with the word ‘Chaand’ as the theme, 34 on ‘Tanhaai’, 22 on ‘Zindagi’, 18 on ‘Bewafaai’, 26 on…

Director: These words are very old-fashioned. Give us something new. I am making an action film with loads of comedy and romance and drama. I need some masala songs. Peppy tunes.

Lyricist: My personal favourites are “Main aaina dekhta hoon toh teri hi soorat nazar aati hai” and “Teri zulfon ke saaye mein mera…”

Composer: Dude, we are in the year 2013. All these thoughts of yours were used 50 or 60 years ago. And if we want such songs, we have two legendary lyricists who have been writing since the 70s. Gulzar-saab and Javed-bhai. We can ask them. Why have you on board? If we want a song on ‘Tanhaai’ or ‘Chaand’, we can approach Prasoon Joshi, Swanand Kirkire or Irshad Kamil.

Lyricist: Dhun-bhai, I have some Sufi and Punjabi songs too. They are the current craze.

Director: We already have such songs for our film. We have taken a Japanese song and added the words ‘Maula’ and ‘Khwaja’. Everybody will think it is a Sufi song. Similarly, we have a Tamil song to which we have added ‘shaava shaava’, ‘maahiya’ and ‘raanjhna’. People will be convinced it is Punjabi.

Composer: Actually, why are we wasting our time? What we are looking for is two songs which you can write for us. The first will be one of the biggest hits Bollywood has ever heard, the kind of song that will instantly make you a superstar.

Lyricist: Really? I can’t wait. What’s it about?

Composer: It’s inspired by the ‘Delhi Belly’ song ‘Bhaag DK Bose’. The song is called ‘Tard Bas’, and we have already written the main line, which is “Abhi bas abhi bas abhi bas tard tard tard, abhi bas tard tard tard.”

Director: It’s a great song. Dhun has even copied an unknown tune from Madagascar which nobody else in India would have heard. The main line is a guaranteed success.  You have to write the other lines, and you can use your ‘Tanhaai’ and ‘Bewafaai’ and whatever. We will give you full credit. I will tell our public relations team to instigate social organisations and politicians, who will then unfairly accuse us of using bad language and scream for a ban. The song will get free publicity. We will say it was your idea and pay you for that. We will also claim ‘Tard Bas’ is a very deep and philosophical term in Hindi which is used when a person has had enough. Are you ready?

Lyricist: Sir, let me think over it. I mean the song seems okay, but I will have to consider what other lines I can write. What’s the other song you want me to write?

Director: How can you be so naïve? Our film has to have an item song. Something that beats all the ‘Munni badnaams’ and ‘Sheila ki jawaanis’ and ‘Character dheelas’ and ‘Anarkali disco chalis’.

Lyricist: But sir, I have never written an item song. I can’t relate to them.

Composer: Listen, rock star. If you want to make it big today, you have to learn how to write item songs. They are very simple, but only geniuses can write them. Even your Ghalibs and Zafars never had the brilliance to write songs like ‘Chikni Chameli’, ‘Chammak challo’ and ‘Halkat jawani’.

Lyricist: Dhun-bhai, I don’t know about that. But how do I begin?

Director: Simple. We had a song on ‘Zandu Balm’ and one on ‘Fevicol’. You could choose another brand. Not such a big headache.

Composer:  Shotcall-ji, now that you mention headache, why not do a song based on Saridon?

Director: Excellent idea. Dhun, you are a genius. Lekh, why don’t you write an item song based on Saridon?

Lyricist: Let me try, sir. Can it be as simple as ‘Sar dard se phata jaaye, toh lijiye Saridon’?

Director: Is that an item song? Ha. You’re funny. Sounds more like an advertisement. Dhun, do you have any ideas?

Composer: We need to think of words that rhyme with Saridon. Just like ‘Fevicol’ was made to rhyme with ‘alcohol’, ‘petrol’, ‘missed call’ and ‘marriage hall’. What say, Lekh?

Lyricist: Hmmm. Saridon. Saridon. What possibly rhymes with Saridon?

Composer: Got it. Revlon. We could use two brands in the same song and thus beat everyone else.

Director: Superb. Saridon and Revlon. We could also add ‘babycorn’. ‘Switch on’, ‘Turn on’. See how fast we think.

Composer: Seriously, Shotcall-ji, you have the makings of a legendary lyricist. And if petrol was pronounced ‘pet-rawl’ to rhyme with ‘Fevicol’, we can make ‘Gulab jamon’ rhyme with ‘Saridon’. It’ll sound tastier than ‘Jalebi Bai’.

Director: Fantastic. We can have this song picturised on the hero and the item girl. I’ll finalise the item girl by tomorrow.  And we can call Champakali of Chinchpokli to sing the song. Her voice is so manly she can sing both male and female versions. We can save some money by paying only one person instead of two.

Composer: I have the tune ready. It’s a song from Papua New Guinea. Am sure nobody would know the original so I am safe. Lekh, why are you so silent? Come on, think of the actual lines. The main line should have ‘Saridon’, and the other lines should use all the rhyming words.

Lyricist: Give me two days, Dhun-bhai. I need time to think.

Director: There is no time. The film industry doesn’t work that way. We need things immediately.

Lyricist: But sir, I need some inspiration.

Director: Just imagine any item girl. Close your eyes and think of her belly button, and how she gyrates to the music. That’s adequate inspiration. The words will come naturally.

Composer: Shotcall-ji, Shotcall-ji. I was actually imagining Mallika Sherawat, and I got the first line. The female voice will sing: “Mere maathe pe honth chipkalo toh behtar hai Saridon seyyy.” To give it a rustic effect we can pronounce it Serry-dawn.

Director: Marvellous! Outstanding!

Composer: Then the hero will sing: “Mere gaalon ko laal rang daalo tum Ravalawn seyyy.”

Director: Wow! Revlon pronounced as Ravalawn. Amazing!

Composer: ”Mere life ko tum meetha bana do, gulab jamawn seyyy.” Then, “Pulao ko swaadisht bana do babycorn seyyy.” Then, we can have: “Is kamre go thanda kara lo tum fayn switch-on seyyy.”

Director: Lekh, are you listening? That’s what’s called songwriting. Not your ‘Chaand’ and ‘Sooraj’… Arrey, where’s Lekh disappeared?

Composer: Don’t know. He was here a minute ago. One second, will ask your secretary. (Goes out and returns in two minutes). Shotcall-ji, Maria informs me that she saw this Lekh fellow covering his face with a handkerchief and running out of the building like we was in a 100 metres race. Everybody outside was wondering what happened to him.

Director: Today’s kids, I tell you. No knowledge, no dedication, no effort. Just want to become famous overnight. They only want money. Anyway, let’s celebrate. Mere maathe pe honth chipkalo toh behtar hai Serry-dawn seyyy.  La la la la la la la la la la Ravalawn seyyy.

Composer: Mere life ko tum meetha bana do, gulab jamawn seyyy … Is kamre go thanda kara lo tum fayn switch-on seyyy… I have one more line, with one more brand. It’ll be a hit among all the tech-savvy folks, and make our song the biggest caller tune ever. It goes – Mujhe What’sApp pe mey-ssij bhejo Vodafawn seyy…

Director: Wow! Wow! Wow! Doo roo roo roo roo doo roo roo doo roo babycorn seyyy… Ha ha ha ha! We will rock Bollywood with ‘Tard Bas’ and ‘Saridon’.