Ten years is a considerable period for a TV programme based on music to last, successfully at that. Surely, Coke Studio is doing something worthwhile. You don’t get global recognition for producing subpar stuff, do you!

So, is it creative fatigue that caused its Season 10 fail to make the grade? After all, this year the show has not been able to generate the kind of buzz that some of its previous editions did. Does the show need to reinvent itself? If yes, then what was the show about in the first place?

Well, the idea, initially, was to present live music on television to allow the TV audiences an atmosphere where they feel that they’re part of a concert. Rohail Hyatt played the most important role in creating that audio-visual simulation for the audiences. And he kept the music simple or with a slight touch of fusion; no frills, no show-offy material. Remember Strings’ powerhouse performance Zinda in Season 1 or Garaj Baras by Rahat Fateh Ali and Ali Azmat? They sounded like no-holds-barred brilliant jamming sessions. Remember Atif Aslam with a loosened tie knot and his guitar casually slung over his shoulder while belting out Jal Pari and the cameraman with the hand-held camera hovering in the background? It defined the Coke Studio attitude, in a way.

The Studio appears to be desperately trying to impress a particular type of connoisseur of music than please and excite television viewers

In the blink of an eye, the show got bigger, much bigger than perhaps even its makers anticipated. Subsequently, Arif Lohar’s mind-blowing Jugni and Zeb and Haniya’s Chup startled the rest of the world with the diverse talent that the Studio was showcasing. And this is where it needed to be cautious. When Rohail left the show, everyone knew that something had begun to go awry.

Strings took over the reins and did a good job of not allowing the show to slip away. But then the Studio increasingly became a platform that appeared to be desperately trying to impress a particular type of connoisseur of music than please and excite television viewers. Season 10 is an apt example.

This last season did not get off to a good start. Ali Sethi’s rendition of the ghazal Ranjish Hi Sahi was not a workable idea. When you redo an iconic work of art the first thing that you take into account is: ‘what made it iconic.’ Sethi tried to impress with what he’s learnt in music without trying to capture the feel of the ghazal. Someone needed to tell him that the kalaam had an imploring tone not a demanding one.

There were some fine performances, especially the tribute to Junaid Jamshed, Us Raah Par, where Ali Hamza, Ali Zafar and Strings didn’t try to make an impression on anyone with their vocal range and true pitching, but you could tell that their effort came right from the heart. That’s what counts the most: music, like all art, should come from the heart.

The other shocker came in the form of Sayonee. It was a disaster. If one were to pick a single forgettable performance by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan in his career, this would be it. The music director should have known his voice was not suited for the song. The same applied to the producers: one of the reasons for the programme’s success in its earlier phase was the ability of its makers to choose the right songs and pairing them with the right singers. What was Ali Noor doing in Sayonee is another question that boggles the mind. Add to this the inaudible back-up vocals in most episodes of the season which made the harmonies sound like unwanted whispers from a corner … and you had a show with little recall value.

All was not worth grousing about, though. There were some fine performances, especially the tribute to Junaid Jamshed, Us Raah Par, where the performers (Ali Hamza, Ali Zafar and Strings) didn’t try to make an impression on anyone with their vocal range and true pitching (and there is nothing fundamentally wrong with that) but you could tell that their effort came right from the heart. That’s what counts the most: music, like all art, should come from the heart.

These arguments should not be mistaken for a criticism of Rohail Hyatt or Strings (Bilal Maqsood and Faisal Kapadia). Both have done some magical stuff with the programme. The problem is the show seems to have veered off the track it initially set out on. Finally, if you watch the video of Zeb & Haniya’s Bibi Sanam on YouTube, scroll down and you will notice a comment by a listener: “I’m Brazilian and I love Pakistani music.”

Published in Dawn, ICON, October 1st, 2017