Meandering thoughts on music based on a few recent happenings.
When the Carnatic musician TM Krishna unveiled Chennai Poromboke Paadal a couple of weeks ago, it felt like the musical world’s answer to the fall of the Berlin Wall, facilitating a crossover between two hitherto separate realms. “Poramboke” refers to land set aside for communal purposes and “paadal” means song – but this was more than just a song about land, specifically the encroachment on Chennai’s Ennore Creek. RK Shriramkumar’s melodic framework adheres to the grammar of ragas like Ananda Bhairavi and Hamir Kalyani, while Kaber Vasuki’s lyrics reach for slang spoken by the common man. Imagine Eminem’s words (“And since birth I’ve been cursed with this curse to just curse/And just blurt this berserk and bizarre shit that works”) set to a Chopin nocturne. Something like that.
The fusion of a classical raga and lyrics that wouldn’t typically be found in a classical composition isn’t really new. Indian cinema has been doing this for decades. An Ilayaraja number (Machi mannaru, from En Uyir Thozhan), in fact, traversed the same terrain as Chennai Poromboke Paadal – with a Carnatic raga (Mayamalavagowla) and lyrics from the street-side. But that was a film song, a genre that’s appreciated solely for its musical/lyrical quality – in the sense that even when someone does something path-breaking, it’s acknowledged, admired, but not quite accorded much respect outside the world of cinema. If a song about saving Ennore Creek occurred on screen, we’d say it’s a great song, something that fit that particular story, that particular film.
What sets Chennai Poromboke Paadal apart is that it’s used this particular music/lyric combination to address a social issue, to address society. The ever-prescient filmmaker K Balachander, in Sindhu Bhairavi (1985), said that Carnatic music would reach out to more people in Tamil Nadu if the words of the songs were in Tamil. Chennai Poromboke Paadal takes this entreaty to the extreme. It mixes an art traditionally associated with one class of society with language typically associated with another, and says this is no time for barriers. It’s up to all of us now. Our differences can be united to make a new music.
The director Gautham Vasudev Menon blew up a Berlin Wall of his own when he released a single from his upcoming Dhanush starrer, Enai Nokki Paayum Thotta, without announcing the name of the music director. Who does that? Doesn’t he know that most people choose to listen to a song (as opposed to inadvertently catching the song on, say, the radio) only if it is by one of their favourite composers? Gautham Menon realises this. He wants the music to be considered on its own merit, instead of the listener going “This song is not doing anything for me, but it’s by Ilayaraja, and there seems to be an interesting use of counterpoint at the 3:02 mark…,” or “This song is not doing anything for me, but it’s by AR Rahman, so maybe I need to listen to it 50 more times…”
Speaking of whom. Rahman turned 50 this year, and is in his 26th year as a sought-after composer for big projects. SP Balasubramaniam, meanwhile, completed 50 years as a playback singer. It’s not just talent that explains their longevity. It’s also the fact that they made their mark – rather, established their brand – in an era when music wasn’t as disposable. How things have changed. Once upon a time, you awaited the announcement of an album release, and asked your local music store, and sometimes he wouldn’t have received the cassette shipment yet… Today, you wake up and the album is a mouse click away. When something however good is that… easy, it doesn’t seem as valuable.
I know this sounds presumptuous, but look what’s happened to the movies. The ruling stars today are still the ones that made a name for themselves before the smartphone/tablet/download age. Can a newcomer match up? Maybe in terms of talent. But given that films barely last in theatres for a couple of weekends, it’s going to take them much more effort and planning to find a place in the pantheon.
The fact that it’s possible to use a director’s name to sell a single (as in the case of Gautham Menon) proves how interchangeable music directors have become. This isn’t to say they aren’t as talented as the older lot. Just that – given the use-and-throw nature of consumption today – I cannot see today’s songs being listened to 25 years from now. I’d love to be proved wrong, though.
An edited version of this piece can be found here. Copyright ©2017 The Hindu. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Ruzaika @ The Regal Critiques
January 28, 2017
The final two paragraphs, though! Definitely food for thought.
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Anuja Chandramouli
January 28, 2017
“Just that – given the use-and-throw nature of consumption today – I cannot see today’s songs being listened to 25 years from now. I’d love to be proved wrong, though.”
I’ll have to disagree with you there BR. There is absolutely no way of knowing what will be remembered and what won’t. Only one thing is certain. The past in all its distorted, highly improbable glory will be remembered. And for all we know, 25 years from now, Kolaveri di may be considered a classic and pop culture experts will be tsking at the fact that Academy awards were handed to whatchamacallim instead of the legendary Anirudh R.
Even in the middle, dark and stone ages I am sure there were folk wringing their hands and bewailing the fact that the glory of the past is gone beyond recapture and they are nothing but midgets compared to the noble Giants of yore. But men and women have always gone one up on themselves while feeling inferior and fully convinced the apocalypse is on hand.
So what if everything is just a click away now? It is true that this has made things seem less valuable and entirely disposable but this is merely a way of ensuring the survival of the fittest or the best and brightest (as well as the lacklustre lackwits who enjoy the favour of fortune). Earlier it was notoriously difficult to get your hands on stuff, which meant that art lovers tended not to bother with patronizing just about anybody making it difficult for talent to survive. Only the most resilient or the luckiest made the cut. This applies even today. And tomorrow. And forever more. And when your children shell out your entire fortune to buy a cushion with Ranbir Kapoor’s butt print your hope will be realized and you would have been proved wrong.
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shaviswa
January 28, 2017
Yuvan is a brand by himself. Why did GVM choose to not put his name on the promo? Hmmm…..
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shaviswa
January 28, 2017
Anyway it has been long since TFM has become irrelevant. The quality of music in the last few years has been awful. If not awful, nothing that demands multiple listening. This includes ARR.
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Ashok Sundaresan
January 30, 2017
TM Krishna’s effort is laudable. It uses simple carnatic music, without high funda gamakams, put punches the meaning straight in the gut. There is a rawness in the picturisation. The ragas chosen reflect the mood of the stanzas sung.
Environmental degradation is a big concern. The effort does not pull punches since it names the agencies who have not done their work, as text, like Pollution Control Board, CMDA etc. However, it is more of government bashing. It conveniently leaves out the voter who voted back the same guilty people back to power every time, taking money for votes. Usually, the quality of the ruler and quality of voter move in tandem. TM Krishna leaves this end out. Why scold your customer?
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shaviswa
January 31, 2017
Well we have heard better Carnatic based Tamil songs with colloquial lyrics from Ilaiyaraja. Not sure what TMK is trying to do here. The guy seems to be banging his head against a wall for God knows what!
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