We all know you, Rahman. It's okay to jump into it and play

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We all know you, Rahman. Its okay to jump into it and play

Sharjah - Not everyone was an AR Rahman fan to start with. But courtesy the kids, that changed. However, a concert in Sharjah left a fan searching for more

By Suresh Pattali

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Published: Sat 25 Mar 2017, 10:19 PM

MUSIC. Once upon a time, I dreaded the five-letter word. It wasn't so much music to my ears as it was to my kids.
I have my reasons.
Music, er.. AR Rahman almost wrecked the peace and harmony at home. My kids growing up, with earphones permanently perched on the head, looked like a cross between humans and aliens connecting to their space stations. Parental summons and fatwas fell on deaf ears; rather drowned in what I once called digital cacophony that slammed into the tympanic membrane. Guests and parties were ignored. Wars were waged in the study room and kitchen. All in the name of music - and Rahman.
The maestro had just started to mesmerise the world with his trademark mix of electronic sounds and classical music. While puritans like me were up in arms against his initial compositions, Rahman, admittedly influenced by jazz, fusion as well as African and American country songs, created a whole new genre of music and a whole new generation of music lovers. Silver screen hits like Roja, Bombay and Dil Se Re thrust him into the limelight. Music was never the same again.
I was vehement. "Either read, or listen to music. They are two different mental processes," I reasoned with the juniors. "Dad, it's like telling me, either walk or breathe. We do both simultaneously - and subconsciously. Music is oxygen," my son argued. "Don't you know, music is the language of memory. It helps you recall information better." Still, buses and first-period classes were missed as he waited to play the Dil Se DVD one last time before dashing off to catch a train.
I left it there, halfheartedly, not wanting to dare any medical research. Fast-forward 15 years. Music finally prevailed as both my son and daughter breezed through their studies, leaving ever-lasting images of two medical students brainstorming Grey's Anatomy, with heads swaying in sync to Rahman's beats.
As the Rahman cult swelled, I listened. The magic of his music mellowed my ego. I was in awe of his breadth of knowledge, his versatility, and ability to traverse vast terrains of genre to bring music to the masses. His bold experiments with bass, intricate instrumentation and high-decibel vocals were in sync with the heartbeats of the new age youth. Such renditions sounded fresh, rebellious and musically blasphemous.
But the conventional lingered in my heart. Rahman's coming home to classical traditions to create melodious romantic ballads connected well with music lovers of all ages. In contrast to his large collection of populist, bass-full compositions, there are several occasions when the maestro wove music into poetry with no instrument or just one. It is such minimalist, soulful compositions that made me a Rahman cultist. The Ahista Ahista song from Ashutosh Gowariker's Swades is all about the piano and Udit Narayan's graceful voice. Rasathi from Mani Ratnam's Thiruda Thiruda is an antithesis to his own layered percussive magic. Any semblance of instrumentation in Rasathi was all created by multiple human voices.
If anything, it's that spirit of innovation which was found missing in the recent 'Mathrubhumi AR Rahman Live 2017' concert held at the Sharjah Cricket Stadium. As is the case with any Rahman concert, the Sharjah event was a barnburner with over 25,000 fans queuing up at the gate five hours in advance. It was a perfect spectacle: The biggest multi-level stage Sharjah has ever witnessed. Svelte dancers adding a classical touch with their rhythmic rendering. Giant LED screens and panels offering an awesome display of graphics. Then there was AR Rahman rising to the stage on a pedestal, his fingers swirling like ten ballerinas on the piano keyboard. The heavens opened. It rained music. Yet, I wasn't drenched wet.
I have my reasons.
In 2015, reviewing an Indian Independence Day concert by Rahman in London, The Guardian said: "Someone should have told him not to start with an embarrassing film clip praising his achievements." The same audio-visual that played in Sharjah left his fans wondering if Rahman needed such a self-introduction. Two Oscars, two Grammies, a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, four National Film Awards and 15 Filmfare Awards along with 13 Filmfare Awards South had already elevated him to a legend. We all know you, Rahman. Just play on.
As a hardcore fan, I have watched most of his DVDs. I wouldn't rush to join a crowd of judgmental critics who argue the brilliance of Rahman is heading downhill. But I would certainly argue that a rigid list of songs and the obstinate refusal to update it over the years have made such shows drab. It isn't necessary to always play to the gallery with a clichéd list of populist songs. Lose Control, Chaiyya Chaiyya, Mustafa Mustafa, and Ye Jo Desh Hai Mera are all unquestionably exuberant and evergreen, but die-hard music lovers also crave some signature melodies that promise a soul-filling experience.
I am also a resolute Rahmaniac who believes some of his most innovative works are lesser known albums like May Madham, Paarthale Paravasam, Pudhiya Mugam, En Swasa Kaatre, Kizhakku Cheemayile and Karuthamma. Maargazhi Poove from May Madham, which I hold close to my heart, is the epitome of Rahman's mastery. While the flute interlude of Suprapadham soothes your senses like a morning breeze, the faint humming in the end takes you to the infinite trance of music.
Seasoned singers Sweta Mohan, Karthik, Benny Dayal, Ranjit Barot, Haricharan, Jonita Gandhi, Neeti Mohan, Alphons Joseph and Javed Ali enthralled the audience with their super hit solos, duets and group songs. Alphons Joseph's Aaromale was probably the most memorable takeaway from the concert.
Thirty songs later, when Rahman mouthed a terse good night, the audience sat tight for a long 10 minutes - in disbelief and drenched in silence. A feeling of being unsatiated bubbled up in my chest.
The only innovation that made it to the Sharjah event was  Rahman's fudging of the Urvasi Urvasi lyrics to reflect contemporary political issues:
Hillary Clinton thootu poonal, take it easy policy
(If Hillary Clinton loses, take it easy policy)
Donald Trump president aanel, take it easy policy
(If Donald Trump becomes president, take it easy policy)
Ayinooru rubaa sellaa poanaa, take it easy policy
(If 500-rupee note becomes worthless, take it easy policy)
Aayiram rubaa sellaa poanaa, take it easy policy
(If 1,000-rupee note becomes worthless, take it easy policy)
suresh@khaleejtimes.com
Suresh is Senior Editor. His philosophy is heavily influenced by Ulysses: 'I cannot rest from travel: I will drink. Life to the lees'
 


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