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MUSICBOX: Lahori love
Indian singer Hariharan might not be a household name in Pakistan, but after Bolo, Bolo, his celebrated duet with Strings, he has gained considerable pop culture mileage in the local market. His latest Pak-centric release is a set of odes to one of the most colourful, historic cities of this country: Lahore. Lahore Ke Rang, Hari Ke Sang is a likeable recording containing 10 tracks composed by local musicians (with one exception by Hari himself) featuring lyrics by some legendary names from the subcontinental literary universe.
A breeze of Sufi metaphors and imagery liberally blows through the lyrical content of the album as it opens up with Mohay Upnay Hi Rang Mai Rang De, with lyrics by Hazrat Amir Khusrau and music by Wazir Afzal, who has written five out of the total 10 tunes. The opener has a very desi folk beat, interspersed with western orchestral sweeps, especially a prominent string section, sounding almost filmi at times. Bhavain Tu Jaan Na Jaan, with lyrics by Bulleh Shah, again has a very western classical arrangement. It takes the rootsy appeal of Bulleh Shah’s lyrics and puts them in a European ballroom … which is not a bad thing, just a little different. We heard these lyrics earlier in the Shoaib Mansoor-directed Supreme Ishq video.
Rooth Gaye Moray Baankay, a thumri, sounds more Lucknow than Lahore, with a pleasant instrumental track. Bohut Kathin Hai Dagar Punghut Ki, another tune featuring Khusrau’s magical verses, again combines with Wazir Afzal’s great arrangement and Hari’s smooth delivery to create a chilled out gem. The elegant Urdu poetry of Hasrat Mohani is the biggest pull of Mur Ke Hum Khak-e-Raahay Yaar Huay. Begana Vaar Unsay, a brilliant Nazar Hussain composition with tonal, resonant aalaps delivered in raga Darbari, closes the album on a surprisingly deep note. A real show stealer hovering quite near perfection with sumptuous flickers of santoor.
Pleasant is the word for this album. Though it might not be accepted by purists or the pop crowd, this record has great appeal for middle-of-the-road types who are looking for a collection of light melodies with substance and soul. Some of the arrangements do tend to get a little repetitive and the album is very heavy on strings, which don’t really give off a very Lahori vibe. Other than that, this is great easy-listening for those who want to graduate from Bolo, Bolo.—QAM
What’smyageagain?
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Listening to Imik’s first album, Zamana Badlay Ga, is probably a good idea if you’re an angst-ridden teenage boy – or girl – who is facing all the problems of that particular time period. You know the ones I’m talking about: unrequited love, feelings of unexplained patriotism stemming from an identity crisis, and the need to hold that guitar and play it on the beach, in an attempt to woo the love of your life. And not to mention when you fancy yourself to be quite the poet and scribble away in a corner, leaving your pearls of wisdom in the open, hoping that someone will read them ‘accidentally’ and tell you that you are a genius!Imik’s choice of title is quite ironic. Mainly because after listening to the entire album, you get the feeling that really, nothing has changed. For instance the first insightful and inspiring track entitled Akhiya Mila Le claims quite honestly, “Nach ke dikhade sade nal kudiye” and proves that literally, nothing has changed.
Soni Kuddi is the name of another classic on the album. Surprisingly, it isn’t the hip-swinging dance number that can be expected. Instead, it’s more like a ballad, which claims unabashedly, Aye soni kuddi sadda dil lagaye. The title track is a hopeful and perhaps inspiring little tune. The lyrics are considerably better than the first’s and the track is all about change, and the hope that young people will change the world … before it changes them, of course.
Piya (another thought-provoking title) also sounds like a ballad. This song actually holds a special place in Imik’s heart who claims, “At the age of 16, I was madly infatuated by this girl who left for abroad. The day she left I was very depressed and shattered. I sat down and started writing and ended up making Piya in a single night.” And what a night it must have been, since this whole song is all about rhymes (yaadein, mulaqatein, ratein, batein, saansein, baahain are all part of it), and even a bit of rhythm! But for some reason it’s skippable. Actually, you shouldn’t skip it because if you do, you won’t get to hear piya rhyme with jiya!
What it really boils down to is that the Zamana hasn’t changed. And for some, it might be a good thing. But if you’re in for a sleepless night of (teen) soul searching, this might just be the album for you.—Mamun Adil
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