--------> = My response Art is often described as abstract because solid, mathematical evaluation criteria cannot be applied to matters of discernment and taste, but a simple application of ratio-proportion to the soundtrack of 1947: Earth shows you concretely at least, it showed me that this is one of Rahman's most successful soundtracks
-----------------------> Agreed, it's one of his finest. It's a perfect one as are two others, the magnificent soundtracks for Water and Mangal Pandey (okay, Dekho aayi Holi apart), and this makes me wonder if Rahman has, in his studio, a secret vault of everlasting goodies he opens only for filmmakers named Mehta, namely Deepa and Ketan (and perhaps, on rare occasion, for a Benegal and his Zubeidaa; rediscovering Saiyyan chhodo mori baiyyan and Dheemi dheemi gaaoon were the other highs of my weekend). ------------------> I hardly consider MP as perfect..one of my least favorites of ARR's period scores...but I agree about Water and Zubeidaa. A Gowarikar, on the other hand, appears way down on the period-film list, for I found that the songs from Lagaan sounded better when echoing nostalgically in the confines of my head than when leaking out of the speakers in the present day. O re chhori was every bit as folksy and lovely as I remembered it, but the rest of the album shone only in parts. I perked up at the rousing four-line openings of Baar baar haan and Ghanan ghanan, but the songs subsequently meandered away from memorableness. And while Lata Mangeshkar's of-a-certain-age voice conveys a palpable ache in the bell-jar rise-and-fall of the line Chanda mein tum hi to bhare ho chaandni, O paalanhaare was otherwise a bit of a chore to get through. ---------------------------> - O Paalanhare is a masterpiece..it's so soothing, haunting, and spiritual....it's the opposite of a "chore". I don't know how anyone can see this track as a "chore". Even most of my non Rahman music fan friends adore this track! Rahman and Gowarikar were far more successful when they collaborated on the contemporary soundscape of Swades. Yeh jo des hai tera is still one for the ages, and I'd forgotten what a beauty Saawariya saawariya was, with the closing portions of its stanzas taxiing down the tarmac before achieving blissful liftoff at Bhooli hoon main jaise apni dagariya, after which the tune gracefully descends to the mellower altitudes of the mukhda. -------------------------> Yes, agreed, Swades is one of my favorites too, but it's too premature and unfair to compare at this stage. And now, with Jodhaa Akbar, the composer and the director go back in time for another stab at another period, and after a few listens, the album seems to hover between their earlier efforts though, thankfully, closer to Swades in terms of achievement. I feel it will age better than Lagaan, but unlike Swades, what appears to be missing here is that undefinable, perhaps even unknowable, aspect of the creative process capable of nudging an album from solid goodness into flat-out greatness. In other words, a perfect one this isn't. The craftsmanship is extraordinary, and yet, as a whole, it's only intermittently that this soundtrack worms its way into your soul. Perhaps it's just that we're too greedy, too demanding when it comes to this composer, or perhaps Gowarikar simply needs to eavesdrop on his music director's sittings with one of the Mehtas. --------------------------> I respect your opinion and the way you wrote it, but I think it's still too early to fully judge or compare it to previous soundtracks that have aged like good wine. JA needs to age like good wine too before fully judging, esp. since we haven't even seen how the songs are seen on screen. The percussion heavy Azeem-o-shaan shahenshah extrapolates to an entire number the love-in-the-time-of-war feel in the interludes of Ilayaraja's Sundari kannaal oru seidhi, from Thalapathi. I was instantly hooked by the rhythm patterns all pounding drums and clashing steel and it's a superb touch that the staccato lines of melody, the unvarying ups and downs intoned with almost military precision, gradually segue into a pattern of notes that flows more organically, more tunefully, as if hinting at the warrior-emperor's impending transformation at the hand of love and in the arms of his queen. But beyond that conception, there isn't much to hold on to in the number, which wears its welcome out by the second stanza. ---------------------> Kind of agree that this song is rhythm heavy and kind of dry musically. But, it has grown on me a lot! This sense of gradually diminishing returns isn't as pronounced in Kehne ko Jashn-e-bahara hai, the first of the love songs (nicely sung by Javed Ali, who sounds as if Sonu Nigam's throat had been roughed up, just a bit, with sandpaper), but if the number feels less than what it could have been, it's due to the strangely truncated second interlude (especially in light of the first one, filigreed with exquisite work on strings). ---------------------> Good point, and something I was thinking too.....I wish Rahman had done more in the second interlude...too short and repetitive of the lait motif. But the tune is gorgeous the instrumental version, with a delectable flute replacing the voice, bears this out and Ali glides through it admirably. If I had to pick a nit, I would wish for a little more variation, perhaps emotion, in his singing. It's as if he mapped out the high notes and the low notes and set about conquering them with a mountaineer's diligence rather than a musician's grace but, again, the melodic lines are so stirring, I couldn't help returning for a fifth, or a fifteenth, listen. ---------------------------> Tune is beautiful and yes, more variation and richer second interlude is something I agree with. I thought he did fine with emotional expression. The other love song is the magical In lamhon ke daaman mein, one of Rahman's most structurally ambitious compositions and easily this album's standout. Hearing Sonu Nigam (with the backing of a robust chorus) seesaw expertly between crescendo and decrescendo, between moody meditation and defiant declaration, it's as if a committed, if weak-willed, lover grew a spine of steel through the course of the song, then flopped lovesick on his mattress again, then roused himself once more, then decided it wasn't worth the trouble and slipped back into supine romantic longing. There's so much character in this song, it's as if stage directions were written into its crevices. I felt this especially when Madhushree begins the second antara with humming that sounds almost absent-minded, as if she walked into the recording studio lost in her own thoughts and snapped out of her reverie just in time to ready herself for the unexpected contours of the end of the stanza, beginning with ki prem aag mein jalte hain. The anticipation to see this number play on screen is at once thrilling and terrifying. What a canvas to mount a picturisation on... but what if they aren't up to it? ------------------------> Good analysis. Lots of drama and contrasts in this number which I really appreciate. Very dynamic composition with lots of highs and lows......very theater oriented. The mood of this pair of love songs finds interesting contrast in a pair of equal-opportunity devotional numbers, making this soundtrack, if nothing else, some sort of secular triumph. ----------------------------> Excellent, excellent! Yes, very secular indeed! Good point! Khwaja mere khwaja, sung by Rahman, begins with a number of overlapping dissonances that find somewhat pat resolution almost instantly. There are interesting rhythm patterns and a great snatch of interlude music that goes on to colour the subsequent stanzas, but this isn't a patch on to take a loose genre equivalent Al maddath maula from Mangal Pandey. But the instrumental version is a drop-dead stunner, veering into bylanes uncharted by the original and coming off like Pachelbel's Canon in D reconfigured for strings and an oboe. -----------------------> You see the brilliance too of the Khwaja Instrumental! Kudos to you! It's sheer genius!!!!!!! There's a breathtaking purity of purpose in this piece that's unmatched by anything else in the album or perhaps only by Bela Shende's exquisite cry from the heart that kicks off Manmohana. The soulful mukhda is a thing of beauty, the orchestral tapestries are lushly woven with alternating flute and strings, but the stanzas are disappointingly one-note. ------------------------> Don't agree with the monotony comment. THe melodic lines may repeat, but most Bhajans are of this format. Melodic contours are extremely rich and undulating. Javed Akhtar, however, compensates somewhat with an extremely startling line as Shende drops to a murmur near the end, as if exhausted by the fervour of her full-throated devotion. "Bansi ban jaoongi, in honton ki ho jaoongi," she whispers, and in wishing that she were a flute in service of those Lips, she reminds us that bhakti and shringar, the spiritual and the sensual, are oftentimes one and the same. And that's true of great music too, which operates as much on the pleasure centres of the brain as the strings of the heart and there are times the soundtrack for Jodhaa Akbar comes tantalisingly close, but it's no hookah. -------------------------> Give it time. Greatness can't always be realized so early. Overall, exceptionally well write up. One of the best reviews I have read of this soundtrack! BRAVO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
