CD review/ Evolve – Indus Creed

 

Evolve/ Indus Creed

Genre: Rock

Universal Music/ Rs 175

Rating: ****

MOST of my memories of Indus Creed are associated with the Independence Rock festival, held at the now-defunct Rang Bhavan in Mumbai. That was back in the mid-90s, when India’s best-known rock group had changed its name from Rock Machine, and then released its self-titled album. Their songs ‘Pretty Child’, ‘Rock n Roll Renegade’, ‘Top Of The Rock, ‘Trapped’ and ‘Sleep’ were compulsory at most gigs, and one felt sad when the band members decided to follow other paths.

Most Indian rock fans would have thought the Indus Creed chapter had ended for good, but the group bounced back with a reunion concert at Mumbai’s Hard Rock Café in October 2010. Three old-timers — vocalist Uday Benegal, guitarist Mahesh Tinaikar and keyboardist Zubin Balaporia — were joined by new entrants Rushad Mistry on bass and  Jai Row Kavi on drums. At that event, the band quite clearly proved how they had evolved, and it was therefore appropriate that they christened their latest album ‘Evolve’.

Coming 17 years after their last album, ‘Evolve’ sees a clear progression for the band. The production qualities are first-rate, the sound is contemporary and each musician contributes equally, with Benegal’s vocals in prime form, Tinaikar world-class on the guitar, Balaporia churning out some exquisite keyboardwork, and Mistry and Row Kavi extra-tight on the rhythm section. What’s more, there is variety.

Each of the eight songs has something to offer. ‘Fireflies’ sets the tempo perfectly, beginning with acoustic guitars and keyboards, before Benegal’s charming vocals impress on lines like “Oh the sun went out today, for reasons you won’t say, and I just can’t look away from those fireflies”. A great build-up and wonderful hook make this a clear winner. The seven-minute-plus ‘Dissolve’ has an anthemic feel, a stunning guitar-driven start, neat changes in tempo, and a couple of spitfire guitar solos in between.

The band comes up with a true surprise with ‘The Money’, an electro-funk track which begins with some marvellous drumming, and lines about how stealing money can “shame the whole community”. With that wonderful keyboard interlude and catchy rhythm, this has the makings of a live favourite.

‘Take It Harder’ is marked by sing-along vocals, angst-ridden lyrics and a crisp guitar solo, whereas ‘No Disgrace’ is embellished by lines like “Did they trample on your dreams, smash them all to smithereens, past the point of no return, maybe someday we will learn”. The best composition of the album is probably ‘Come Around’, which questions someone who has left his family, has a later-day Beatles influence, smart acoustic guitar and keyboards, and an energetic ending.

The shortest piece ‘Bulletproof’ is a brisk, quick-tempo number which again has great live potential, whereas the final number ‘Goodbye’ has very relatable lines like “The bigger the dreams, the harder the tears will fall’ and “Living separate lives doesn’t have to be goodbye”.

Another thing that works in the album’s favour is the right-pricing. At ₹ 175, it’s truly affordable.  Over the years, Indian rock has never really sold in huge quantities, probably because of inadequate marketing by the labels, some absurd pricing, and more recently, downloading. If musicians are regularly releasing new material, it is more because of their own passion and their loyalty towards fans. As such, it would be appropriate if Indian rock buffs and Indus Creed fans pass on a simple message— please buy the album, and don’t rip it just because you’ll get it for free.

As for Rock Machine/ Indus Creed, it’s only their fourth album ever – after ‘Rock n’ Roll Renegade’ in 1988, ‘The Second Coming’ in 1990, and the eponymous Indus Creed set in 1995. Over the years, they’ve had a fantastic array of musicians. Besides the current line-up, they’ve had guitarist Jayesh Gandhi, bassist Mark Selwyn, and drummers Mark Menezes, Bobby Duggal and Adrian Fernandes, besides a few others who were part of the band in the very early stages, or who did a few guest appearances later.

What’s common throughout, of course, is the incredible talent that has been part of the band. Each musician has had a unique role to play, and has helped in making the outfit ‘evolve’.

There have been quite a few Indus Creed memories. Some of the early Rock Machine gigs, the I-Rock shows at Rang Bhavan, and yes, the appearance with guitar god Slash at the MTV re-launch party in Bangalore in 1996, playing the Beatles’ ‘Come Together’. The reunion show at Hard Rock and their outing at the Jack Daniels-Rolling Stone rock awards are among the recent ones.

But my favourite Indus Creed line-up? Well, 1980s Rock Machine was one thing, 1990s Indus Creed yet another, and present-day Indus Creed something else. It’s almost like trying to analyse which of Deep Purple’s various ‘Marks’ was the best. As long as they continue to produce fantastic music, it doesn’t really matter.

And  my favourite Machine/ Creed album? Again it doesn’t matter, though with ‘Evolve’, they have evolved even further.

RATING SCALE: * Poor; ** Average; *** Good; **** Excellent; ***** Classic

Of Donna Summer and the disco era

FOR many born in the 1960s, Donna Summer would have been an early favourite. After all, they would be in their teens when the disco craze swept the music world. The earlier generation would have had direct exposure to the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Cliff Richard, whereas the next generation would have caught Michael Jackson and MTV in the early stages of their popularity.

With Donna Summer’s death on May 17, the pop universe has lost a trendsetter. Suddenly, memories of growing up on the songs ‘Love To Love You Baby’, ‘Hot Stuff’, ‘I Feel Love’, ‘Bad Girls’ and ‘She Works Hard For The Money’ are doing the rounds. Her collaboration with producer Giorgio Moroder, which blended her sensuous vocals and a dance music flavour with a very Kraftwerk-influenced electronic sound, is being talked about. After all, nobody deserved the title of ‘Disco Queen’ more than her.

Donna’s fame came during the golden era of disco — the second half of the 1970s. At that time, many acts were blossoming across Europe and the US, resulting in a wide variety of fresh sounds, ranging from disco and Europop to synth-pop and funk-pop. Michael Jackson had arrived, but was yet to become the worldwide phenomenon he became with 1982’s ‘Thriller’.

Those were the days when pop music was heard, and not seen. There was no MTV, and the radio played an important role in artiste promotion. Compared to the 1980s, media hype was much lower. And yet, artistes became popular strictly on the basis of the quality of music they produced.

On hearing of Donna’s death last night, that entire disco era came flashing back to mind. Besides her, some of the biggest pop acts those days were ABBA, the Carpenters, Boney M and Bee Gees. Of these, only the Carpenters didn’t come in the disco segment, though their melodic pop was immensely popular. Most of ABBA’s songs were pure Europop, but hits like ‘Dancing Queen’, ‘Voulez Vous’ and ‘Summer Night City’ were a rage on the dance floors. Boney M were the champions of Euro-disco, and Bee Gees changed their earlier balladsy sound to spearhead the disco movement with ‘Saturday Night Fever’.

Those days, disco hits were produced like cakes at a bakery. Before 1975, we had Manu Dibango’s ‘Soul Makosa’, George McRae’s ‘Rock Your Baby’, the Jackson 5’s ‘Dancing Machine’, Barry White’s ‘You’re The First, The Last, My Everything’ and the Carl Douglas-Biddu collaboration ‘Kung Fu Fighting. That list only kept expanding.

Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’, Giorgio Moroder’s ‘From Here To Eternity’, Village People’s ‘YMCA’, Van McCoy’s ‘The Hustle’, KC & The Sunshine Band’s ‘That’s The Way (I Like It)’ and ‘Shake Shake Shake’, the Trammps’ ‘Disco Inferno’, Ottowan’s ‘D.I.S.C.O’, Kool & The Gang’s ‘Celebration’ and Lipps Inc’s ‘Funky Town’ are played to this day. Cerrone was a rage of the time, with the hits ‘Love In C Minor’ and ‘Supernature’. And some of Michael Jackson’s ‘Off The Wall’ songs — specially the extra-popular ‘Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough’ — fall in the disco category.

Some songs came, conquered and vanished. ‘Le Freak’ by Chic, ‘Ring My Bell’ by Anita Ward,’Shadow Dancing’ by Andy Gibb, ‘One Way Ticket’ by Eruption, ‘Yes Sir, I Can Boogie’ by Baccara, ‘Born To Be Alive’ by Patrick Hernandez, ‘WeAre Family’ by Sister Sledge and ‘Dance Little Lady’ by Tina Charles had their phases. Artistes from other genres also cashed in on the disco wave — notable examples being Rod Stewart’s ‘Do Ya Think I’m Sexy’, David Bowie’s ‘Johnny I’m Only Dancing Again’, Diana Ross’s ‘Upside Down’ and George Benson’s ‘Give Me The Night’. Western classical music got a disco twist with the ‘Saturday Night Fever’ piece ‘A Fifth of Beethoven’. Here in India, music directors like Bappi Lahiri got into disco too, with ‘Disco Dancer’ and ‘Disco Station’.

Alas, like many sudden crazes, disco too died a natural death. By the beginning of the 1980s, the genre had become passé. Artistes began getting repetitive, and the new entrants never added any value.

Tastes changed too. The same audiences who grew up on disco were now describing it as unfashionable, primarily because they themselves had moved on to other genres like rock, metal or jazz. With the likes of Michael Jackson, Madonna  and Whitney Houston, the next generation was exposed to another brand of pop. Following MTV’s launch in 1981, even pop musicians changed their approach and sound. Video had killed the radio star.

No one can, of course, deny the huge influence the disco phase has had on future generations. Electronic dance music is huge these days, and its various variants — techno, house, trance and dubstep, to name a few — actually find their roots in the dance music and disco of the 1970s. In that sense, Paul Van Dyk, Sasha, Armin Van Buuren, David Guetta and other currently-popular DJs owe it directly or indirectly to the era of Girogio Moroder and, yes, Donna Summer. Rest in peace, Disco Queen.

The curious case of a Talat Mahmood fan

ON this day 14 years ago, legendary Hindi film playback singer Talat Mahmood passed away. Well, Talat-saab is one of my favourite singers across genres, but what’s strange in my case is that it’s been exactly 14 years since I became a Talat Mahmood fan.

Yes, the beauty of his distinct velvet voice actually charmed me just a few days after he expired. Those days, I was working with Mid-Day newspaper, and though music had been my ‘beat’ for over three years, I specifically wrote about rock, pop, jazz, Indipop, ghazals and new Hindi film music. I was just getting into writing about Hindustani classical music, through some interviews here and there, but since we had some very knowledgeable Hindi film music columnists like Raju Bharatan, Nalin Shah and Rajiv Vijayakar, I never ventured into that arena.

On May 9, 1998, the news of the singer’s demise came in the afternoon. It was a Saturday, and next day’s Sunday Mid-Day had an early deadline. Keeping the short timeline in mind, the editor asked me to write a quick obituary. I was totally blank — I knew very little about Talat-saab, except the fact that he was a legend. Those days, there was no Google or Wikipedia to suddenly cook up a few paragraphs out of nowhere, and make everyone feel you were an authority on the subject.

So there I was, apologising to the editor, saying that I would not be able to do justice to the great artiste. I had known he had been immensely popular, but the only thing I was certain about was that he had sung ‘Tasveer banata hoon’ — which I later discovered was from the film ‘Baradari’. Back in the 70s, that song was very regular on radio, and while I heard a lot of older Lata, Rafi, Kishore, Asha and Mukesh hits, this was the only Talat number I thought I knew.

Finally, we contacted Raju Bharatan to write the obit, and the music encyclopaedia that he is, he faxed a brilliant 1,500-word article two hours later (e-mail was either new or non-existent those days). Sadly, the article was chopped badly because of space constraints, and only some 300 words were used, much to Bharatan’s and my dismay. While readers were disappointed at such sketchy coverage, they were further angered when I wrote a two-page obituary of American superstar Frank Sinatra, who passed away five days later on May 14, in  next Sunday’s edition. Allegations of favouritism towards western culture soon cropped up.

The good thing about Bharatan’s unedited copy, however, was that it mentioned songs I had heard and loved, without knowing they were sung by Talat Mahmood. Of course, I had heard ‘Jaaye toh jaaye kahan’ (Taxi Driver), ‘Jalte hain jiske liye’ (Sujata) and ‘Phir wohi shaam’ (Jahan Ara). But over the years, I would have heard them in passing, probably on the radio, without paying too much attention to the depth of the voice and the beauty of the lyrics.

The next day, there was some TV coverage. For the first time, I heard Talat’s first hit ‘Aye dil mujhe aisi jagah le chal’ (Arzoo), and for the first time, I heard of the great music director Anil Biswas — which was also strange because one of my favourite Mukesh songs ‘Dil jalta hai toh jalne do’ (Pehli Nazar) was also composed by the same person, and I had first heard that song years ago. Somewhere, I started feeling rather silly at having missed out on such gems, and for not knowing too much on old music.

I decided to buy a Talat Mahmood compilation cassette, but before I could do so, I made a major goof-up. Singer MA Khalid, who has specialised in Talat songs, had organised a tribute concert, and requested some pre-event publicity. Now, I had heard that the late singer’s son was also named Khalid, and thus mixed things up. The write-up erroneously mentioned that Talat-saab’s son Khalid Mahmood would be doing the show.

Naturally, MA Khalid was upset, but gentleman that he is, he invited me to the concert at a Pedder Road auditorium. That was another revelation. The audience was filled with diehard Talat fans, and each song received grand applause. Khalid has a wonderful and soulful voice, and there, I discovered that a few more songs I knew were actually Talat Mahmood classics. Suddenly, I got a fresh meaning to ‘Aye mere dil kahin aur chal’ (Daag), ‘Sham-e-gham ki kasam’ (Footpath) and ‘Itna na mujhse tu pyaar badha’ (Chaaya).

The following day, I picked up Saregama HMV’s ‘The Golden Collection — Talat Mahmood’ from Rhythm House, and for the next few weeks, I made it a point to listen to it at least once a day. A few days later, I also bought the five-cassette ‘Legends — Talat Mahmood’ released by HMV.

Besides hearing the above-mentioned masterpieces closely, I discovered other gems like ‘Meri yaad mein tum na aansoon bahana’ (Madhosh), ‘Seene mein sulagte hain armaan’ (with Lata Mangeshkar in Tarana), ‘Raat ne kya kya khwab dikhaye’ (Ek Gaon Ki Kahani), ‘Aansoon samajh ke kyon mujhe’ (Chaaya), ‘Hai sabse madhur woh geet’ and ‘Andhe jahan ke andhe raaste’ (Patita), ‘Humse aaya na gaya’ (Dekh Kabira Roya), ‘Dil-e-Nadaan’ (with Suraiya in Mirza Ghalib), ‘Zindagi dene waale sun’ (Dil-e-Nadaan) and ‘Main dil hoon ek armaan bhara’ (Anhonee). So many more.

A few days later, on May 25, music director Laxmikant passed away. For some days, there were parallel phases of Laxmikant-Pyarelal and Talat Mahmood, and it was around that time, I felt the need to learn more about Hindi film music, specially details on who sang, composed and wrote what song. And in the pre-Google days, the only quick source was to go to Rhythm House, read the back covers of cassettes, and take down notes.

Since those times, Talat-saab has adorned many of my music listening hours. Besides his film songs, some of his ghazals and Bengali tunes have been absolutely mesmerising. In an absolutely enchanting era where male playback singing also had the great Rafi, Kishore, Mukesh, Manna Dey and Hemant Kumar, Talat Mahmood has been very special — for me, he’s been like a first among equals. Today, I have no regrets about discovering his music much later — everything, I guess, comes at the right time.

Rock biographies: The write stuff

MOST fans of 60s and 70s rock would have heard of Pattie Boyd, the British model who married George Harrison of the Beatles, and then split to wed Eric Clapton, only to leave him much later. What many wouldn’t probably know was the fact that Pattie’s sister Jenny was married to (and later left) Mick Fleetwood of the band Fleetwood Mac, and that another sister Paula dated Clapton much before she herself had got to know him.

This, and lots of other rock trivia, can be found in Pattie’s autobiography ‘Wonderful Today’, which I recently completed. Marketed as ‘Wonderful Tonight’ in the US (after the famous song, naturally), the book talks of Pattie’s upbringing, her entry into modelling, her introduction to Harrison, Beatlemania, their exposure to Indian spiritualism and music, the Beatles break-up, the predominance of drugs in rock music, the entry of Clapton, the split from Harrison, Clapton’s drinking binges, his children from other women, her leaving Clapton, John Lennon’s assassination, her next boyfriend Rod Weston (not a rock star, thankfully), Harrison’s marriage to Olivia, Harrison’s death and how her own life moved on.

Some brilliant love songs have been written about Pattie — Harrison’s ‘Something’, and Clapton’s ‘Layla’, ‘Wonderful Tonight’ and ‘Old Love’ — and this book clears any doubts about what made her so special. Though it’s based on a model’s life story, it’s a typical rock n’ roll book, with loads of tidbits and nostalgia.

I hadn’t known of the existence of this book till I met good friend Parag Kamani over one of our regular dinner outings a few days ago. Besides our passion for music, the other thing we have in common is our fondness for music-related books, specially those revolving around rock stars. Both of us like collecting rock biographies. Each time we meet, we exchange music books: this time, he lent me Pattie Boyd’s ‘Wonderful Today’ and ‘Rod Stewart: The New Biography’, whereas I gave him ‘ABBA: The Name of the Game’ and Albert Goldman’s ‘Elvis’.

Over the years, scores of rock biographies have been published. On the surface, most of them follow similar patterns, in that they begin with the subject’s birth and family situation, and then talk about his first exposure to music, education (or lack of it), his influences (mainly, the blues or rock n’ roll), his first band, his famous band (or how he went solo), success, failure, recordings, songs, record sales, alcohol, drugs, affairs (and extra-affairs), and in some cases, death, legacy and legend.

However, if one is passionate about the genre, this repetition doesn’t matter. What’s interesting is what influenced our favourite songs, the artiste’s musical ideology and some of the specific personality traits each rock star possessed.

Personally, I have been lucky to have read about some of my favourite artistes in detail through some wonderfully written biographies or autobiographies. At the same time, I haven’t yet read books about other 70s favourites like Santana, The Who, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Simon & Garfunkel, Leonard Cohen, Dire Straits and Deep Purple. I haven’t read much or practically any book on post-80s bands like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Van Halen, REM, U2, Metallica, Nirvana or Guns N’ Roses. The Rod Stewart biography and Dennis McNally’s ‘A Long Strange Trip’ (about the Grateful Dead) are on my soon-to-read list.

But if I were asked to recommend 25 rock biographies, here’s a list below — besides the Pattie Boyd autobiography, of course. As I said, the focus is only on 60s and 70s legends as I’ve mainly read about them. While the titles are self-explanatory, I have put additional notes in brackets, if necessary. Pardon the Doors overdose, but then, that’s one band that’s been written about enormously.

1 The Beatles/ Hunter Davis (first published in 1968, this is the only authorised biography of the Fab Four)

2 Lennon: The Definitive Biography/ Ray Coleman (very in-depth look at John Lennon’s life)

3 Paul McCartney/ Paul James Carlin

4 Saucerful of Secrets: The Pink Floyd Odyssey/ Nicholas Schaffner

5 Comfortably Numb: The Inside Story of Pink Floyd/ Mark Blake (updated to cover keyboardist Richard Wright’s death)

6 Clapton: The Autobiography/ Eric Clapton (extremely honest autobiography)

7 Crossroads: The Life and Music of Eric Clapton/ Michael Schumacher (not to be confused with the racing champion)

8 Jim Morrison: Life, Death, Legend/ Stephen Davis (my favourite rock biography)

9 Riders On The Storm: My Life With Jim Morrison and the Doors/ John Densmore (drummer of the Doors)

10 Light My Fire: My Life With The Doors/ Ray Manzarek (keyboardist of the Doors)

11 No One Here Gets Out Alive/ Jerry Hopkins and Danny Sugerman (a biography of Jim Morrison)

12 The Doors: The Illustrated History/ Danny Sugerman (contains some amazing pictures of the Doors)

13 Jethro Tull: Pocket Essential Series/ Raymond Benson (this is a mini-biography; I haven’t read the better-known ‘Minstrels In The Gallery: A History of Jethro Tull’ by David Rees)

14 Midnight Riders: The Story of the Allman Brothers Band/ Scott Freeman (the book that got me into rock biographies, back in the late 90s)

15 The Eagles: Flying High/ Laura Jackson (the writer has also written biographies of Queen, Bono, Jon Bon Jovi, Paul Simon and Neil Diamond, but I’ve only read this and Queen)

16 Queen: The Definitive Biography/ Laura Jackson

17 Hammer Of The Gods: The Led Zeppelin Saga/ Stephen Davis (Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant and Jimmy Page rejected this one, saying it misrepresented the band: interesting reading, all the same)

19 Chronicles: Volume One/ Bob Dylan (The singer-songwriter talks about his influences and glorious moments — in his own inimitable style)

19 Do You, Mr Jones?: Bob Dylan with the Poets and Professors/ Edited by Nick Corcoran (various poets and professors analyse Dylan’s work: perfect for diehard Dylan fans, not for those who’ve heard him only superficially)

20 According to the Rolling Stones/ The Rolling Stones (members of the band relive their experiences)

21 Rolling With the Stones/ Bill Wyman (bassist of Rolling Stones)

22 Elvis/ Albert Goldman

23 Crosby Stills & Nash: The Biography/ Dave Zimmer

24 Jimi Hendrix: Inside The Experience/ Mitch Mitchell (drummer with Jimi Hendrix)

25 Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy: Classic Rock & Pop Writing from Elvis To Oasis/ Edited by Dylan Jones (not a biography, but an essential collection of articles revolving around rock and pop stars including Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Chuck Berry, Frank Zappa, Elton John, George Michael, Annie Lennox, Sid Vicious and Oasis)

Well, that’s my list. As mentioned, there are many which I haven’t yet read (recommendations are welcome). All the 25 books may not be brilliantly written — and none of them would qualify for the Nobel Prize for Literature. The Laura Jackson books, in particular, are not as detailed as some of the others. But where they score lies in the trivia, and the wealth of information they provide.

Rock star Frank Zappa once described rock journalism as ‘people who cannot write doing interviews of people who cannot think in order to please peope who cannot read’. Nothing so exterme about these books, but if you possess the rare and deadly combination of rock and reading, do try them out.

———————————————————

Jagdeep Singh, who’s read this blog, suggests some books. He writes:

On the subject of biographies, I am an avid reader of rock biographies too. While some turn out to be written by ghost writers and hold nothing interesting than the surface level info we already know, some are painstakingly written…I wanted to mention some in my collection:

1) Smoke On the Water: The Deep Purple Story: Nothing new here, written by a fan, it has all the quotes and story matter we already know of, no special insights, at some level turns out to be the a series of events during their hey days put together….I was pretty disappointed since I was expected something interesting like The Hammer of Gods…

2) Ian Gillan: Child In Time: Very nicely written and interesting read.. insight on (Deep Purple’s) Gillan’s struggles post his resignation from the band in 72 upto his rejoining in 84 (in fact life in 84 is the last chapter of the book)…you know the man has written it himself…

3) Slash / Eric Clapton: another set of nice books, you get some interesting insights into their lives…

4)Keith Richards’ Life: A ‘thick’ book…I am currently reading it and it is pretty engrossing, you know the man has written it himself, because the writing is how Keith would have been speaking, it defies the literary rules of English writing every now and then, his own imaginative sentences

5) Bob Dylan: Chronicles….don’t know about this one…it started out interesting, but I havent finished it in 4 years…so there….

Honorary mention: Biddu: Made In India: It’s short and interesting, didn’t know Biddu’s Mumbai fame and the struggles he had to go through to reach Kung Fu Fighting status…

Thanks Jagdeep, for the inputs

CD review/ Old Ideas – Leonard Cohen

Old Ideas/ Leonard Cohen

Genre: Singer-songwriter

Sony Music/ Import Rs 599

Rating: *****

AS a music journalist, one of my biggest regrets is that I couldn’t meet and interview Canadian singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen, even after tracking him down on his 2001 visit to Mumbai, and speaking to him over the telephone.

On a tip-off, I had found that Cohen was in Mumbai to meet his spiritual guru Ramesh Balsekar, and was staying at the Shalimar hotel in Kemps Corner. On first attempt, I was lucky to be connected to his room. The famous voice answered. Goose flesh! However, he apologised and said he was on a personal visit and wasn’t keen on giving any interviews. When I persisted by saying I just wanted to collect his autograph, he said he was leaving in 15 minutes, and to try the next day. I could never connect with him after that. Sweat, disappointment!

Though I’ve personally followed the other great singer-songwriter Bob Dylan a bit more deeply, I’ve had my share of Cohen phases over the years. It began in 1987 or so, when I heard a compilation containing the songs ‘Suzanne’, ‘Sisters Of Mercy’, ‘So Long Marianne’, ‘Hey That’s No Way To Say Goodbye’, ‘Famous Blue Raincoat’ and ‘Bird On A Wire’. In fact, I had always associated ‘Suzanne’ with Neil Diamond, and was somewhat surprised to discover it was written by the then-new-to-me Cohen.

Somewhere down the line, I  got the tape of ‘Death Of A Ladies’ Man’, which has the songs ‘Iodine’, ‘Paper-thin Hotel’ and my all-time Cohen favourite ‘I Left A Woman Waiting’. Later, I randomly got exposed to classics like ‘Hallelujah’, ‘Dance Me To The End Of Love’, ‘Our Lady Of Solitude’, ‘Tower Of Song’, ‘Waiting For The Miracle’ (used in the ‘Wonder Boys’ soundtrack) and ‘A Thousand Kisses Deep’, and it was only over the last six or seven years that I decided to explore his earlier albums more closely.

Cohen’s latest album ‘Old Ideas’ comes seven years after his previous ‘Dear Heather’. The first thing that strikes you is how his voice is now sounding even deeper. As a reviewer in Amazon wrote, his voice has now passed its way from the whisky and cigarettes stage, and is now on its way to a chronic bronchitis sound. That may seem like a negative remark for some, but the fact is that at 77, Cohen is actually in prime vocal form. He has always had a distinct timbre, but that ‘boom’ is sounding more intoxicating and heavenly now.

‘Old Ideas’ contains 10 new songs, of which three fall in the uptempo category — the other being laidback and moving. While Cohen is involved in the penning of each song, he’s joined by a group of co-writers including longtime Madonna collaborator Patrick Leonard and close associate Anjani Thomas, who’s worked with him on three previous albums.

The mood is set with the haunting ‘Going Home’, which has an opening tune reminiscent of ‘I Left A Woman Waiting’. Accompanied by some melodious violins and charming female choruses (a regular feature on this album), Cohen’s voice thunders as he sings: “He will speak these words of wisdom, like a sage, a man of vision, though he knows he’s really nothing but the brief elaboration of a tube”. The way he uses open spaces between words is extraordinary.

At seven minutes and a half, ‘Amen’ is the only long song here, and the sudden burst of trumpet gives it an exotic, jazzy feel. More violins and female back-up follow in ‘Show Me The Place’, but it’s the blues-based and brisk ‘Darkness’ which offers sudden variety. While the United Heart Touring Band chips in with neat arrangements on this song, lines like “I used to love the rainbow, I used to love the view, I loved the early morning, I’d pretend that it was new, But I caught the darkness baby, and I got it worse than you” reflect Cohen’s songwriting brilliance.

Other lyrical gems come from ‘Anyhow’, which requests another chance for reunion from a separated one (“I know you have to hate me, but could you hate me less?”) and the Anjani Thomas co-written ‘Crazy To Love You” (“I’m old and the mirrors don’t lie”). A wonderful chorus line dominates the spiritually uplifting and sing-along marvel ‘Come Healing’, whereas ‘Banjo’ is a country-flavoured song with a pleasant acoustic guitar and smooth cornet.

The album concludes with the bedroom-voiced ‘Lullaby’, whereas the quicker ‘Different Sides’ makes smart use of the Hammond B3 organ, and has Cohen singing: “Both of us say there are laws to be obey, but frankly I don’t like your tone, You want to change the way I make love, I want to leave it alone”.

The best thing about ‘Old Ideas’ is the simplicity of the tunes, the quality of the words and its overall replayability. Morning, afternoon or night, the songs haunt you. Though my other favourite albums have been ‘Songs Of Leonard Cohen’, ‘Death Of A Ladies’ Man’ and ‘Recent Songs’, his latest effort would rate among his best, and arguably his most stylishly produced.

In terms of numbers, Cohen hasn’t really been as prolific as some of his contemporaries — 12 studio albums in 45 years, in comparison to Dylan’s 34 in a 50-year career. But over time, Cohen has made an impact as one of the most powerful songwriters, using themes as diverse as love, sex, religion, politics, war and depression, accompanied by innovative metaphors and remarkable imagery. This venture, which focusses on the themes of love, desire, hope, suffering and regret, just proves that ‘Old Ideas’ can be great ideas too.

RATING SCALE: * Poor; ** Average; *** Good; **** Excellent; ***** Classic

CD review/ We All Raise our Voices to the Air – The Decemberists

We All Raise Our Voices To The Air/ The Decemberists

Genre: Indie folk/ folk-rock

EMI Music-Capitol Records/ Rs 395

Rating: ****

THOUGH they’ve been around for over a decade, I had my first exposure to the music of The Decemberists early last year, when they released their album ‘The King Is Dead’. What impressed me immediately was the earthy folk-rock sound which flowed consistently through all songs. The appearance of REM guitarist Peter Buck on three songs lent an interesting twist.

Marketed under the ‘indie folk’ genre, The Decemberists hail from Oregon in the US, but seem to have been influenced by a lot of British folk music too. Songs like ‘Down By The Water’, ‘Calamity Song’, ‘Rise To Me’, ‘June Hymn’, ‘All Arise’, ‘This Is Why We Fight’ and ‘Rox In The Box’ effortlessly blend both folk cultures, using electric guitar, acoustic guitar, piano, bass and drums along with violin, bouzouki, mandolin, cello and banjo.

Before I could lay my hands on the earlier Decemberists albums, I checked out their latest venture, which is a two-CD live compilation called ‘We All Raise Our Voices To The Air’. Culled from various concerts held in the US last year, this 20-track collection is a must for anybody who enjoys live albums. In fact, it’s one of the best live albums to come out during the past few years, complete with pre-song announcements and crowd response.

Much of the credit to The Decemberists sound would obviously go to singer-songwriter-guitarist Colin Meloy, who’s been influenced as much by REM, Siouxsie & The Banshees and Morrissey, as he has been by 60s British folk revival acts like Anne Briggs, Shirley Collins and Nic Jones.

However, there’s some equally commendable support from Chris Funk (guitar, mandolin), Jenny Conlee (keyboards, Hammond organ, glockenspiel), Nate Query (bass) and John Moen (drums). Though REM’s Buck doesn’t play here, guest appearances by violinist Sara Watkins and the Portland Auxillary Brass Band on saxophones and trumpets lend variety to the sound.

The emphasis on this live compilation is on the newer songs from ‘The King Is Dead’. Yet, there is a fair representation from the earlier recordings too. The opening song ‘The Infanta’, a perfect example of the Decemberists sound, is followed by the brilliant ‘Calamity Song’ and ‘Rise To Me’ from ‘The King Is Dead’. One of the band’s earliest recordings ‘Leslie Ann Levine’, which was the opening song from their debut album in 2002, the more recent ‘Down By The Water’ and the 16-minute opus ‘The Crane Wife’ add to the charm of Disc 1.

The second side has crisp renditions of the pleasant ‘Oceanside’, the sing-along beauty ‘Rox In The Box’, the moving ‘June Hymn’ and the hard-hitting ‘This Is Why We Fight’. With its catchy riff and smooth pianos, ‘All Arise’ is one of my favourities. But the last two songs — both over 10 minutes long — add a new dimension. While ‘The Mariner’s Revenge Song’ has clear progressive rock influences, ‘I Was Meant For The Stage’ starts off with outstanding vocals, before getting more psychedelic, using some brilliantly orchestrated trumpets, tenor and baritone saxophones.

Clearly, The Decemberists are one of the front-runners in the ‘indie folk’ movement, which encompasses 90s-and-thereafter acts blending alternative and modern rock with folk and country influences. The Net mentions a lengthy list of such artists, with Lou Barlow, Jeff Buckley and Beck being named as among the early practitioners. More recent names are Bon Iver, Kings Of Convenience, the Avett Brothers and the Civil Wars, with Blur’s Graham Coxon also experimenting with ‘indie folk’ on occasions.

It’s an exciting-sounding genre, on the one hand very reminiscent of the 60s and 70s music we grew up on, and on the other, having a distinct contemporary feel too. As for the Decemberists, their live shows are said to be out-of-the-world, with full-on audience participation and lots of stage effects. Though they have released a DVD called ‘The Practical Handbook’ in 2007 (which I’ve yet to watch), one hopes a new one is on the way.

RATING SCALE: * Poor; ** Average; *** Good; **** Excellent; ***** Classic

Memories of another day….

ALL hardcore music buffs have nostalgia-packed tales to tell on how they got into particular musicians or bands or genres. The hitch is that only people with similar tastes identify with and appreciate such stories. Keeping that in mind, I thought I’d jot down something personal this time — probably for want of any other ‘sob’-ject to cry about in this blog. The topic is simple: how did I get into particular genres of music?

Over the years, my fortune has been that I have been exposed to and have experienced practically all genres of music closely. Good for me, not so good for those around me. Some came early on in life, and some pretty much later. Some were permanent fascinations, others were one-night bands. Many were among my favourite, some were not — specially if they were way too loud, or were overflooded with expletives.

Here, I shall stick to the musical styles I have loved most, and how and when I got deeply into them. Having grown up in Mumbai and Delhi, India, I heard a lot of Indian music, though I was lucky to have been exposed a lot of western sounds too. This article is about my early favourites in each genre, and not about my actual favourites in those styles. So in case you don’t find the name Miles Davis or Leonard Cohen or Ustad Amir Khan or Talat Mehmood, it was because I discovered them much later.

To make things simple, I shall stick to 10 genres – five international and five Indian.

INTERNATIONAL:

Pop/ early 70s: Before pop, it was the evergreens. Back in the early 70s, when I was eight or nine, my uncle carried a portable record player whenever he visited Mumbai. His collection included Cliff Richard, Jim Reeves, Harry Belafonte and Perry Como. But the one I heard secretly in his absence was ‘The Sound Of Music’ score —I could actually operate the system at that age, and had all the making of a gadget freak which I never turned out to be.

The actual pop listening happened at the age of 15, when Boney M and ABBA were on the charts. Everybody in class heard them, and soon, we moved on to the Bee Gees with ‘Saturday Night Fever’, with some of us trying out a John Travolta hairstyle, whether it suited us or not. The ‘Grease’ soundtrack soon followed. I was studying in Delhi then, and thanks to local radio, got into Brotherhood of Man, George Baker Selection, Diana Ross, Cat Stevens and Lobo. I heard a bit of country too, like John Denver and Glen Campbell, and in a more danceable mood, it was Cerrone, Lipps Inc and Donna Summer. Aaah, lurv ta luv ya bay-beee.

Rock/ 1981: A natural evolution from pop, which suddenly became passé, the rock craze began in the last year of school and had set in by the first year of college. Yes, I had heard some songs of the Beatles, Pink Floyd and Uriah Heep by then, but that was because they played on the radio, which I would switch off whenever these bands came on. Then, a couple of friends had told me about Jethro Tull, but it was only when a friend played the ‘Bursting Out Live’ tape that I became a rabid fan (or ‘rabbit’ fan, as I would say those days). Talking of Tull, I always thought ‘Aqualung my friend’ was ‘Backward on my bench’… and I promise I had a very clean mind.

Soon, it moved to Doors, Traffic, Moody Blues and Santana — followed by Floyd, Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Queen, Bad Company and Allman Brothers Band. A proper exploration of the Beatles also took place. There was a bit of metal too, with Judas Priest, Van Halen, Iron Maiden, Quiet Riot and the Scorpions. But that was more because it was the latest fad in college.

The Stones? Not for another seven or eight years, but once I heard them properly in the late 80s, they gave me total ‘satisfaction’.

Jazz/ 1984: A school teacher Philip Burrett, who also happened to be my neighbour, regularly played pop-jazz acts like George Benson, Grover Washington and Chuck Mangione. I would overhear them very casually, but never made a conscious attempt to get into jazz. It was at a concert by French guitarist Christian Escoude and his quartet in 1984 that I got converted. My father had a couple of invites for the show, followed by a dinner invitation from the organiser Aliiance Francaise. The host Philippe Lenglet played records of Charles Mingus, Dexter Gordon and Thelonious Monk. Many guests appreciated them — or at least pretended they did.

A few weeks later, I heard trumpeter Woody Shaw at the Jazz Yatra in Delhi, and this was a confirmation that jazz was one of the most exciting genres around. I went on to have records taped, and my collection would soon include ‘The Best Of George Benson’, Weather Report’s ‘Black Market’, the Mahavishnu Orchestra’s ‘The Inner Mounting Flame’, Chuck Mangione’s ‘Love Notes’ and John Coltrane’s ‘Blue Train’. And two rarer ones —‘In Flagranti Delicto’ by Ian Carr’s band Nucleus and ‘Live from Concord to London’ by super-singer Ernestine Anderson.

Yes, with the Shakti tour of 1984, Indo-jazz fusion also became a favourite, and it was a delight seeing guitarist John McLaughlin, tabla wizard Zakir Hussain, violinist L Shankar and ghatam exponent Vikku Vinayakram on stage. Their album ‘Natural Elements’ played on my system at least twice a day.

Since I am not including it as another genre, a bit about World Music. I must have had my first taste in the late 90s, with records from Peter Gabriel’s Real World label, but slowly had many favourites from different countries – Ali Farka Toure, Afro Celt Sound System, Hevia, Hugh Masakela and Angelique Kidjo coming instantly to mind.

Blues/ 1986: I had heard a fair amount of blues without knowing it was the blues. I had liked Eric Clapton, but with my limited knowledge at that time and the fact that I hadn’t grown beyond ‘Lay Down Sally’, ‘Wonderful Tonight’ and ‘Cocaine’ (the song, not the substance), I never associated him with the blues. Ernestine Anderson, whom I mentioned in the jazz section, also had some typical blues songs. Then, in 1986, thanks to an intellectual and pretty-much snobbish friend, I got into a BB King compilation. He rattled off a list of names for me to hear, but no thank you, BB King sounded good enough to BB-gin with.

Yet it took me another five or six years to begin exploring the genre deeply. Suddenly, in the early 90s, I got into Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson, Buddy Guy, Robert Cray and blues-rock musicians Stevie Ray Vaughan and Gary Moore. And Eric Clapton’s 1994 release ‘From The Cradle’, which featured his version of blues classics, had made me more interested in the genre. Never mind if half the blues songs I heard started with ‘Woke up this morning and my baby had gone away… to another man… a-hoooooo’.

Western classical/ 2003: A very late arrival on my list. Yes, I had heard western classical rather sporadically, but I didn’t follow it for a long time. In the 80s, I had seen a live telecast of a Zubin Mehta concert but it all sounded Greek. As a journalist, I had interviewed classical musicians without knowing the difference between a symphony and a string quartet. God bless them.

The transformation happened during a visit to Munich in 2003, when I also made brief visits to Vienna, the capital of western classical music, and Salzburg, the birthplace of Mozart. I attended quite a few concerts, including a rendition of Mozart’s ‘The Marriage of Figaro’ at Vienna’s Schonbrunn Palace, Johann Strauss Jr’s ‘The Blue Danube’ played everywhere in Vienna, and while the whole of Vienna and the rest of Europe was sick and tired of hearing it, it was on the top of my charts. It was only a matter of time that I picked up a few books on western classical music, and many CDs of Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Schubert, Tchaikovsky, Handel, Stravinsky, Chopin, etc, etc. Like many other western classical buffs I knew, I learnt the art of name-dropping. And I soon realised that an allegro was not related to an alligator.

INDIAN

Hindi film/ 1970: Hindi film music played all the time on the radio. A cousin was deeply into songs from Raj Kapoor films, and I quite liked some of them. But it was with Rajesh Khanna movies like ‘Aradhana’, ‘Amar Prem’, ‘Haathi Mere Saathi’, ‘Anand’ and ‘Andaz’ that I got totally hooked on to the genre.

Of course, as a kid, I never really bothered about who the music director and lyricist were. I identified the songs with the stars more, though yes, I could recognise which songs were sung by Kishore Kumar,  Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh (for his ‘Mera Naam Joker’ and ‘Anand’ songs). I had heard Rafi and Asha, without knowing they were Rafi and Asha. I was one of RD Burman’s biggest fans without really knowing of his existence.

Hindustani classical/ 1971: My mother had just begun learning from Pandit Jasraj’s senior disciple Chandrashekhar Swami. So I got to hear a bit of classical music at home — though my ‘Bachelor Boy’ and ‘Bimbo’ competed with her more traditional ‘Bhoop’ and ‘Bhimpalasi’.

We would go for most Pandit-ji’s concerts in Mumbai —still remember his rendition of ‘Malkauns’ and ‘Hansadhwani’, though I didn’t understand the difference then. I also remember attending concerts by Hirabai Badodekar, Bhimsen Joshi,  Kishori Amonkar, Ghulam Mustafa Khan and the upcoming and charismatic Parveen Sultana.

Strangely, instrumental music came much later, as my parents were more into vocal music. The only exception was Bismillah Khan, whose shehnai was played at weddings and on TV. But in 1976, at a music festival in Delhi, two instrumental performances left me dazzled – N Rajam on violin and Shivkumar Sharma on santoor. I became a huge fan of tabla player Shafaat Ahmed Khan, who accompanied Shivkumar-ji — I was yet to hear of Zakir Hussain. I also saw the great sitar player Nikhil Banerjee at a private concert, and knew of Amjad Ali Khan because he came frequently in the still-to-be-named-page 3 of those days. However, it took me a few years to get into my later favourites of Vilayat Khan, Ravi Shankar, Ali Akbar Khan, Hariprasad Chaurasia and Zakir Hussain.

Carnatic music/ 1982: One regret is that I haven’t heard Carnatic music as much as I’d have loved to, or followed it as deeply as the true aficionados. But without getting deep into the nuances, I have always been moved by the genre.

In final year of college, a class-mate Arvind and I listened to a lot of Jethro Tull together. His parents were deeply into Carnatic music, and at his place, I had my first taste of vocalist M S Subbulakshmi and violinist Lalgudi Jayaraman. I also saw violinists T N Krishnan and MS Gopalakrishnan at various concerts, and found them simply outstanding. But with Arvind and I going different ways to pursue our respective career paths, there was a prolonged stoppage to my Carnatic listening. Much later, I began exploring the genre more deeply, specially after getting to know violinist L Subramaniam who gifted me a copy of his book ‘Euphony’. But as I said, there’s still a lot left to learn — though I guess I’ve learnt how to move my hands along with the music.

Ghazals/ 1982: My first exposure to ghazals came through Ghulam Ali’s ‘Chupke Chupke’, which was used in the film ‘Nikaah’.  Soon, I got some of his popular songs like ‘Awaargi’ and ‘Hungama’ recorded. The ghazal craze was in full swing in India, and very quickly, I began hearing a lot of Jagjit-Chitra Singh, Pankaj Udhas, Rajendra-Nina Mehta and Talat Aziz. My college friend Rahul Dutt and I would have listening sessions beginning with Pink Floyd, Deep Purple, Simon & Garfunkel and Uriah Heep, but slowly moving into Pankaj Udhas and Jagjit-Chitra. Though we didn’t do it on purpose, it also ensured that a lot of unwanted elements left after the rock got over.

The first exposure to Mehdi Hassan came in 1984 when I bought some LPs from a friend. A compilation which contained ‘Ranjish hi Sahi’, ‘Mohabbat Karne Wale Kam Na Honge’, ‘Patta  Patta’ and ‘Zindagi Mein Toh Sabhi’ became instant favourites. Two years later, having taken up a job at Times of India in Jaipur, I would constantly quarrel with a flat mate Abhay Kant who insisted on playing Begum Akhtar when I needed to play Jethro Tull. Well, he never got into Tull, but I became a huge fan of Begum Akhtar.

Strangely, Sufi music came much later, sometime in 1995 when I was the only person in my group who hadn’t heard Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. How illiterate of me. Anyway, I became an instant fan of his and of Abida Parveen, though what irritates me today is that way people are now misusing the term Sufi music by associating it with anything that uses a few specific words and a certain style.  

Regional/ recent: As a child, I had heard a lot of Kannada film songs whenever I visited by hometown of Dharwad in north Karnataka. Besides songs sung by Dr Rajkumar, I loved the music of the film ‘Upasane’. As a child, I also managed to hear a fair amount of popular Marathi songs, and in college, there was a brief phase of Hemant Kumar’s Rabindra Sangeet, more to impress the Bengali girls.

But the actual craze for regional music is very recent, kicked off by my regular official tours. A few years ago, I got into RD Burman’s Bengali songs thanks to close friend and music buddy Hemant Kenkre, but when I visited Kolkata last year, I decided to buy a lot of Bengali music – RDB, SD Burman, Salil Chowdhury, Hemant Kumar, Shyamal Mitra, Suchitra Mitra, Purandas Baul, Goshtogopal Das, to name a few.

On that tour, I decided that whenever I visited a city, I’d pick up some of its regional music. So on a visit to Bhubaneswar, I bought CDs of singer Akshaya Mohanty, whose song ‘Kishori’ is something I hear for hours on end. In Hyderabad, I bought CDs of Ghantasala and Ilayaraja, who I now believe is one of the greatest composers India has known. In Bangalore, I bought a lot of new Kannada film music. And in Amritsar, I bought a collection of shabds played at the Golden Temple. I went to a popular music store in Jaipur, and didn’t find any Rajasthani music. Jai ho.

The interesting thing about some of these genres is that I love them even if I don’t follow the language. Anyway, I guess that’s better than following the language, and not loving the music, which is happening with me in the case of a lot of newer ‘Bawly’-wood music.

The Miles advantage

AT 7.30 PM on March 24, an hour after the screening of ‘The Miles Davis Story’ began, the recording theatre at Mumbai’s Mehboob Studio was quite empty. Only 20 or 25 people were present in the hall, paying close attention to the jazz documentary. The crowd trickled in post-8 PM, primarily to watch the live acts — singer Daniel Tyler of the Full Moon Rising project, funk-R n B outfit Naina Kundu Trio and jazz-rock band Max Clouth Trio.

The evening was part of the monthly Live From The Console series organised by Oranjuice and Day 1, a Sony Music division. Sadly, most of the 200-plus people who sauntered in later missed the documentary on trumpeter and bandleader Miles Davis, one of the most influential and innovative figures in 20^th century music and one of the greatest names in jazz history. Maybe the 6.30 PM timing was a bit early for their Saturday night. Or maybe it was because a large number of Mumbai’s so-called current-day jazz fans have never really tuned in to Miles, preferring more modern and rambunctious forms of the genre instead.

‘The Miles Davis Story’ is directed by British documentary filmmaker Mike Dibb, whose other subjects have included surrealist painter Salvador Dali, Nobel winning Mexican writer Octavio Paz and jazz/ classical pianist Keith Jarrett. With some amazing research, lots of trivia, brilliant concert footage and a series of interviews with musicians and industry-folk close to Miles, he keeps the viewer riveted over the film’s two-hour length.

If John Szwed’s biography ‘So What: The Life Of Miles Davis’ gives a deep reading insight into the legend’s life, Dibb’s film provides the visual and aural pleasure, and the nostalgia. The documentary deals with Miles’ upbringing, his brief stint at the Juilliard School, his interactions with bebop greats Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, his recordings with bandleader Gil Evans, his work with French filmmaker Louis Malle and his own pathbreaking innovations in cool jazz, hard bop, jazz-rock and even the much-criticised hip-hop jazz.

The list of recordings featured include ‘Birth of the Cool’, ’Milestones’, ‘Kind of Blue’, ‘Miles Ahead’, ‘Sketches of Spain’, ‘ESP’, ‘Bitches Brew’, ‘A Tribute To Jack Johnson’, ‘Tutu’ and the posthumously-released ‘Doo-Bop’, and one hears snippets of classic jazz numbers like ‘So What’, ‘Milestones’, ‘All Blues’, ‘Spanish Key’ and ‘Tutu’.

Snapshots of Miles playing the trumpet, eyes closed and back to audience, Parker and Gillespie doing a fascinating duet, and amazing solos by saxophone great John Coltrane, pianist Chick Corea, saxophonist Bill Evans and percussionist Don Alias are woven perfectly into the narrative. For variety, there’s also a dazzling performance by guitar god Jimi Hendrix, whose work Miles particularly admired.

The list of interviewees reads like a who’s who of post-70 jazz and jazz-rock, with names like guitarist John McLaughiln, bassists Ron Carter and Marcus Miller, pianists Herbie Hancock, Keith Jarrett, Joe Zawinul and Corea, saxophonist Evans, trumpeter Ian Carr, singer Shirley Horn, and drummers Jack DeJohnette and Alias, besides recording industry bigwig George Avakian.

There are snatches from his personal life too, as the film talks of Miles’s association with Irene Cawthon (prominently interviewed here), Betty Mabry, Cecily Tyson and Juliette Greco, besides close friend Shirley Horn, and also his relationship with his children Cheryl, Gregory and Miles IV. His stints with drugs, depression and illness are given due footage, and his death in September 1991 described with a sense of true loss.

Over the years, jazz has boasted of numerous icons and extraordinary musicians, but Miles carved a niche of his own by creating defining newer sounds and textures. He moved with the times, and like a Pied Piper, inspired scores of music to follow his path. As such, ‘The Miles Davis Story’ is a remarkable tribute to his genius

One only wishes more people had made it earlier to experience the film’s brilliance. Of course, they can always catch the DVD.

The magic of Ravi

I’VE had two lengthy interactions with music director Ravi — one formal and one informal. The former was around 10 years ago, when I was working on a column for Mid-Day newspaper, which required well-known film personalities to talk about a specific achievement in their careers. The topic we had chosen for Ravi was the song ‘Chaudhvin ka chand’, written by Shakeel Badayuni and sung by Mohammed Rafi. Nostalgically, he had spent two hours at his Santacruz residence going into every detail that went into the making of the classic.

The second lengthy meeting — there had been many short ones at parties, mostly hosted by Zee TV — was on July 27, 2005, a day of the famous Mumbai floods. Ravi’s nephew Ashutosh Bharadwaj is a friend of mine, and both of us had stayed at his place that day as our houses were affected by the floods. My good luck was that I had a wonderful chat about film music that lasted three or four hours, without having to bother about putting anything into print.

Both these incidents came to mind on the evening of Wednesday, March 7, when I heard the news of 86-year-old Ravi’s demise. He had been ailing for a while, but the sudden phone call left me in shock. After all, I had been greatly impressed by the man’s humility and the affection he showered on each of our meetings.

Ravi was a genius, no doubt, but he was also relatively under-rated compared to his contemporaries. Let’s talk about both these aspects.

First, the Ravi brilliance. Among Hindi films, he did some remarkable work in ‘Waqt’, ‘Chaudhvin Ka Chand’, ‘Nikaah’, ‘Gumraah’, ‘Neel Kamal’, ‘Ek Phool Do Mali’, ‘Dilli Ka Thug’, ‘China Town’, ‘Aankhen’, ‘Gharana’ and ‘Khandaan’ — having won Filmfare awards for the last two in 1961 and 1965. He was a favourite of director BR Chopra, and later on, made a name in Malayalam movies, whose music I’ve unfortunately not heard. He used raag Pahadi wonderfully.

Among the Facebook posts reacting to his death, my friend NS Padmanabhan summed up Ravi’s contribution to film music succinctly, by saying: “Aye meri zohra jabeen’ is played in every single wedding/ sangeet. ‘Aage bhi jaane na tu’ remains a guitar classic. ‘Chalo ek baar’ remains Mahendra Kapoor’s most melodic song. Rafi sang in hundreds of songs for Shankar-Jaikishen, SD Burman, Laxmikant-Pyarelal etc but ‘Chaudhvin ka chand’ is part of his top five at least.” An apt description, indeed.

Indeed, those who’ve followed Ravi’s career would understand how well he worked with Rafi. ‘Chaudhvin ka chand’ and ‘Mili khaak mein mohabbat’ (‘Chaudhvin Ka Chand’), ‘Husnwale tera jawaab nahin’ (‘Gharana’), ‘Aaja tujhko pukaare mera pyaar’ (‘Neelkamal’), ‘Baar baar dekho’ (‘China Town’) and ‘Nanhe se farishtey’ (‘Ek Phool Do Mali’) are great examples of the composer-singer combination.

There were other singers too, who had some great hits from him. In ‘Dilli Ka Thug’, Kishore Kumar excelled on ‘Yeh Raatein Yeh Mausam’, ‘Cat Maane Billi’ and ‘Hum Toh Mohabbat Karega’ — the first two with Asha Bhosle. Asha’s songs in ‘Waqt’ — ‘Aage bhi jaane na tu’ and ‘Kaun aaya’ — were gems. Lata Mangeshkar teamed up with Ravi on ‘Tu hi meri mandir’ (‘Khandaan’) and ‘Gairon pe karam’ and ‘Milti hai zindagi mein mohabbat’ (‘Aankhen’). Geeta Dutt had ‘Baalam se milan hoga’ in ‘Chaudhvin Ka Chand’.

 Manna Dey’s all-time favourites include the ‘Waqt’ anthem ‘Aye meri zohra jabeen’, which is actually based on a qawwali by Afghanistan’s Ustad Abdul Ghafoor Breshna, and the marvellous ‘Tujhe suraj kahoon ya chanda’ (‘Ek Phool Do Mali’). Mahendra Kapoor did ‘Chalo ek baar’ and ‘Tujhko mera pyaar pukaare’ in ‘Gumraah’, and ‘Din hai bahaar ke’ with Asha in ‘Waqt’. And finally, Salma Agha rendered the well-known ‘Dil ke armaan’ and ‘Dil ki yeh arzoo’ in ‘Nikaah’.

Yet, despite this string of masterpieces, Ravi remained under-rated. While the first rung of composers in various eras included Naushad, Shankar-Jaikishen, SD Burman, OP Nayyar, Madan Mohan, RD Burman, Laxmikant-Pyarelal and Kalyanji-Anandji, Ravi somehow never made it to the very top. In that sense, he was like Salil Chowdhury, Jaidev, C Ramchandra, Husnlal-Bhagatram, Khayyam, Roshan and Ravindra Jain — many absolutely brilliant songs, but yet never in the real top grade.

The reason for this is probably that barring BR Chopra, Ravi never had the biggest banners or stars to back him. Secondly, a large chunk of his music went unnoticed as the films flopped. Thirdly, he himself was selective about his work, doing much fewer films than some of his contemporaries, and preferred not to get into the kind of marketing tactics required in the industry.

The fact, of course, is that Ravi has been one of the biggest contributors to film music. His songs are remembered today, and will continue to do so. With his death, Hindi film music has lost a true gem and true gentleman.

—–

IN response to my piece above, my Facebook friend Shankar Shenai wrote his response on Facebook. He’s a hardcrore Ravi fan, and am posting his comments below, which give a further insight into the genius of the composer.

Shankar Shenai wrote: “I appreciate your write-up on the late Ravi. He was a great music composer and I agree with you on your few references of songs you mentioned. Me being an ardent fan of Ravi-ji, can’t just forget his gems.

“For Rafi, ‘Jaane bahaar husn tera bemisal hai’ (‘Pyaar Kiya Toh Darna Kya’), ‘Sau Baar Janam Lenge’ (‘Ustadon Ka Ustad’), ‘Yeh Waadiyan Yeh Fizaayen’ (‘Aaj Aur Kal’), ‘Choo lene do naazuk honton ko’ (‘Kaajal’), ‘Is Bhari Duniya Ko’ (‘Do Badan’), ‘Babul ki duwayen leti ja’ (‘Neelkamal’) and ‘Zindagi ke safar mein akele the hum’ (‘Nartaki’) were better if compared to any other music directors of that era.

“At that time, Asha settled well with OP Nayyar and Ravi only. Lata Mangeshkar also had some fabulous numbers under his composition. Mukesh and Manna Dey got a few. However, Mahendra Kapoor was mostly based on Ravi-ji and later on OP Nayyar.

“Apart from his solo numbers, his duet songs were outstanding and to mention them would require another page. Many thanks for writing such a beautiful obituary for Ravi-ji, who never got his due from this cruel industry.”

 Thanks Shankar, for your detailed feedback.

 

CD review/ Crossing – Ravi Chary

Crossing/ Ravi Chary

Indo-jazz  fusion/ EMI Music/ Rs 295

Rating: ****

OVER the past 15 years or so, I’ve seen sitar player Ravi Chary live in concert off and on, primarily in Indo-jazz fusion outings by percussionists Trilok Gurtu and Taufiq Qureshi. Abroad, of course, he’s played with well-known vocalists Angelique Kidjo and Salif Keita, drummer Paco Sery, bassist Kai Eckhardt and electronica giant Robert Miles.

Though one has heard contributions from him on many Trilok Gurtu albums and the Miles Davis multi-artiste tribute ‘Miles From India’, , it’s on the new release ‘Crossing’ that one gets a complete feel of his class. Giving him company is an A-class guest list that includes Indian keyboardists Louiz Banks and Harmeet Manseta, drummers Ranjit Barot, Sivamani and Gino Banks, percussionists Fazal Qureshi, Taufiq Qureshi and Sridhar Parthasarathy, guitarists Dhruv Ghanekar and Amit Heri, bassist Sheldon D’Silva, pianist Merlin D’Souza and saxophonist Rhys Sebastian.

The nine-track album has a good blend of Indian classical, jazz, rock and world music, with distinct influences of pioneering band Weather Report on some portions. The first two pieces ‘Yogi’ and ‘5.5’ have been arranged by Gino Banks, who’s also the album’s creative director. Good sitar passages played to a striking drum and tabla rhythm line.

‘Sadguru’, dedicated to Trilok Gurtu, has some brilliant keyboard stretches by Harmeet Manseta and crisp guitaring by Amit Heri. ‘Tree Of Souls’ is a Weather Report-styled masterpiece arranged by Sheldon, whereas Chary plays fabulously on the melodic ‘Synergy’, catchy ‘Divine Sphere’ and soulful ‘Myra’ ― the latter featuring an upright bass.

The album concludes with ‘Funk Jog’, a wonderfully-improvised piece featuring young saxophonist Rhys Sebastian, and ‘Twilight’, in which raag Puriya Dhanashree is given a jazz touch, with some smart contribution by drummer Ranjit Barot and pianist Louiz Banks.

Throughout the album, Chary’s playing is effortless and majestic. Among the lay-listeners, he may not be as well-known as the younger players Niladri Kumar and Anoushka Shankar, but as a fusion and world music player, he’s definitely making waves. ‘Crossing’ is clearly a class apart and a cross apart.

RATING SCALE: * Poor; ** Average; *** Good; **** Excellent; ***** Classic