Ah, the early ‘90s. Winds of change were cautiously blowing through Bollywood, careful not to ruffle the mighty feathers of the lords of mediocrity who had been ruling over Hindi cinema for at least a decade. There were murmurs of impending changes; changes bigger than Madhuri's perms; more shocking than Kajol’s unibrow.
Looking back twenty years later though, suffice to say that those promises of big things to come somewhat overestimated what actually followed. Sure, Bollywood today has successfully replaced flea market outfits with designer labels and on-set dialogue development with bound scripts. But burn through the gloss, and we still have a long way to go in terms of making truly entertaining cinema.
One aspect of our movies that has changed substantially though is the music. The early ‘90s was a time of blatant rip offs of already pitiable songs and only a passing interest in melody and staying in tune. Singers seemed to blankly go through the motions of voicing bland notes, and honestly, with lyrics as preposterous as they were, and melodies that were an insult to the word, who could blame them?
But two big things hit the filmy music scene in 1995 that set the tone for the next decade to come. A.R. Rahman’s second collaboration with Mani Ratnam, ‘Bombay’ released, and, though originally made in Tamil,
successfully broke the barriers to make it into the consciousness of the audiences of the North, both because of its sensational, controversial plot (it was the first movie to deal with the Bombay riots), and its wildly appealing music.
successfully broke the barriers to make it into the consciousness of the audiences of the North, both because of its sensational, controversial plot (it was the first movie to deal with the Bombay riots), and its wildly appealing music. In the same year, a twenty something singer got his first break at hosting what would become one of India’s most popular television music show (with a solid seven year head start on the first ‘American Idol’ season). Sonu Nigam became the first host of the new show, ‘TVS Sa Re Ga Ma’. The show was a musical contest that put aspiring singers through various grueling rounds of singing old film songs and semi classical tunes. But the true hero of the show was its young host. With his humble (bordering on unnecessarily obsequious) attitude toward the illustrious judges, encouraging attitude towards the contestants, and
above all, solid introductory solos (that certified him as being a better singer than any of the contestants in his four years of hosting), Sonu Nigam became a household name. And slowly, but surely, he began to make his way into the world of playback singing. Yes, it took him a while to shrug off his Rafiesque voice and to infuse in it a wide array of emotions, but by the turn of the decade, Nigam was the voice behind every leading man in Bollywood.
Why then did it take so long for Rahman to get Sonu to sing for him? Sonu was definitely left out of the magical string of successes Rahman belted out in the beginning of his career (Roja, Bombay, Rangeela, Sapnay). Even their very first collaboration seemed more like one of Rahman’s hurried rehashing of a song originally made in Tamil to Hindi (Columbus, Columbus from Jeans). An ardent fan of these two talents, I had begun to worry by this point that maybe I had misread Sonu. Maybe Rahman thought he was just another Bolly candy voice made solely for the Yash Chopras and Subhash Ghais?
Then, in what to this day I will always believe was a signal directed straight at me, Rahman whipped out his career best album in 1998, Dil Se. Though most of the gems of this album were crushed under the weight of the heavy
beats of the super popular ‘Chaiyya Chaiyya’, Rahman reserved his most passionate song, a solo, for Sonu Nigam. ‘Sathrangi Re’ might have been filmed like a poor man’s Madonna video (Frozen, anyone?), but its melody, arrangement and vocals could have only been put together by two people at the top of their games. Sonu in particular, shed his cooing singing style to reveal a raw, mesmerizing voice that rode the scales with the ease and confidence of a pro. I was satisfied; my dream team had arrived!
Over the years, Nigam and Rahman have had a small yet powerful set of collaborations, most of which I have loved (This article will pretend like ‘Chiggy Wiggy’ was a bad dream). If you’re interested in exploring the duo more, here are some of my favourites:
1. In Lamhon ke Daman Mein, Jodha Akbar: This song exemplifies the kinds of songs Rahmanigam tend to make. At the core of it is a tune that draws little attention to itself in an otherwise hyped album, but for those curious enough to look past the classic Rahman bombastic numbers, promises to be a precious nugget. In this song, I particularly love the chorus (joined by Sonu) that provides a spectacularly dramatic interlude leading into Sonu’s soft voice.
2. Sarfaroshi Ki Tamanna, The Legend of Bhagat Singh: Sonu is pitted against Hariharan in this heart achingly beautiful number. Sonu is definitely the better singer, but Hariharan in the studio is a force to contend with. They play well together in this song, meeting note with note, taking turns with center stage, and producing a beautiful piece. (Disclaimer: Hariharan’s version of the Saathiya title track from Alaipayuthe, Pachai Nirame, is certainly superior to Sonu’s version, but I’m going to attribute that to the trappings of commercial Bollywood songs).
3. Ekla Chalo, Bose, The Forgotten Hero (and much forgotten movie): This is Sonu in the zone, tackling the kind of music he’s most familiar with: a strong melody, the freedom to play around with long held single notes, and a simple tune that sticks to the basics.
above all, solid introductory solos (that certified him as being a better singer than any of the contestants in his four years of hosting), Sonu Nigam became a household name. And slowly, but surely, he began to make his way into the world of playback singing. Yes, it took him a while to shrug off his Rafiesque voice and to infuse in it a wide array of emotions, but by the turn of the decade, Nigam was the voice behind every leading man in Bollywood.
Why then did it take so long for Rahman to get Sonu to sing for him? Sonu was definitely left out of the magical string of successes Rahman belted out in the beginning of his career (Roja, Bombay, Rangeela, Sapnay). Even their very first collaboration seemed more like one of Rahman’s hurried rehashing of a song originally made in Tamil to Hindi (Columbus, Columbus from Jeans). An ardent fan of these two talents, I had begun to worry by this point that maybe I had misread Sonu. Maybe Rahman thought he was just another Bolly candy voice made solely for the Yash Chopras and Subhash Ghais?
Then, in what to this day I will always believe was a signal directed straight at me, Rahman whipped out his career best album in 1998, Dil Se. Though most of the gems of this album were crushed under the weight of the heavy
Over the years, Nigam and Rahman have had a small yet powerful set of collaborations, most of which I have loved (This article will pretend like ‘Chiggy Wiggy’ was a bad dream). If you’re interested in exploring the duo more, here are some of my favourites:
1. In Lamhon ke Daman Mein, Jodha Akbar: This song exemplifies the kinds of songs Rahmanigam tend to make. At the core of it is a tune that draws little attention to itself in an otherwise hyped album, but for those curious enough to look past the classic Rahman bombastic numbers, promises to be a precious nugget. In this song, I particularly love the chorus (joined by Sonu) that provides a spectacularly dramatic interlude leading into Sonu’s soft voice.
2. Sarfaroshi Ki Tamanna, The Legend of Bhagat Singh: Sonu is pitted against Hariharan in this heart achingly beautiful number. Sonu is definitely the better singer, but Hariharan in the studio is a force to contend with. They play well together in this song, meeting note with note, taking turns with center stage, and producing a beautiful piece. (Disclaimer: Hariharan’s version of the Saathiya title track from Alaipayuthe, Pachai Nirame, is certainly superior to Sonu’s version, but I’m going to attribute that to the trappings of commercial Bollywood songs).
3. Ekla Chalo, Bose, The Forgotten Hero (and much forgotten movie): This is Sonu in the zone, tackling the kind of music he’s most familiar with: a strong melody, the freedom to play around with long held single notes, and a simple tune that sticks to the basics.

Anj, I'd just like to point out... Chiggy Wiggy... that happened... nothing you say is going to change that :)
ReplyDeleteI like "forgotten movie".
ReplyDeleteAlso, "unnecessarily obsequious" is so true. I rejected watching hindi tv in general because of his constant use of "ji" to everyone and everything. It felt so alien and formal.
It's true, '90s Hindi TV was half interesting but a huge turn off because of the lack of polish. Nowadays, I almost feel like it's the opposite problem: all gloss; no stuff (for example, the saddening chiggy wiggy).
ReplyDelete"blatant rip offs of already pitiable songs" oooo brutal. I read this first as, "But two big things hit the flimsy music scene in 1995."
ReplyDelete@Dave not an inaccurate description of the music scene in 1995! ("filmy" ~= Indian for anything to do with films)
ReplyDelete