*based on the above, there seems to be some overarching summation to be made
about modern-day composers, doesn't it? — but the only conclusion is that
compositional styles overlap a lot more than they used to.

*I Don't agree with that.. I can anyday recognize a ARR song without being
told abt it..
Even if there are some songs where the composition makes it appear as if
styles are overlapping,
ARR comes out time & again with his trade-mark compositions - which is
refreshing & completely Rahmanish.
Recent Example:  Ishq Ada Hai  - Male version: *Nobody else could compose
something like that.*


On Sat, May 31, 2008 at 11:53 AM, Vithur <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:

>   *A ditty to make aditi smile*
> Saturday May 31 2008 17:57 IST
>
> *Baradwaj Rangan*
>
> As if to prove his detractors wrong, as if to silence those criticisms that
> his music cannot be got until you listen to it over and over — like
> imposition, filling that blackboard in your mind with grimly repeated
> resolves of "The next time around, I will like this song better" — A R
> Rahman has composed... Wait, that's not the word, for 'composed' gives the
> impression of a certain rigidity of structure, of a schema, of following a
> premeditated thought to its predetermined conclusion, whereas the instantly
> fall-in-lovable Kabhi kabhi Aditi (from Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na) sounds like
> Rahman did nothing more than cup his ear to the chest of a college-goer in
> love and translate those heartbeats into notes.
>
> After a succession of stately, senior-citizen scores, how delightful it is
> to see Rahman strutting about in jeans again, an iPod stuffed in the back
> pocket. When I heard that this notoriously non-prolific composer had two
> soundtracks due to hit stores at the same time — and after a quick glance
> westwards to assure myself that the sun wasn't about to rise there — I
> thought, this week, I'd record my thoughts about Ada and Jaane Tu Ya Jaane
> Na in this column. But that's not going to be possible, because the endless
> listens to Kabhi kabhi Aditi have left me with barely any time to get to the
> other tracks.
>
> How do I love this song? Let me count the ways. I love the way the rhythm
> kicks in like an afterthought, well into the second line, changing — in an
> instant — the texture of the number that you thought was going to be
> coloured primarily by whiny pickings on an acoustic guitar. I love the
> gradual buildup and explosion in the stanzas, as the
> everything's-gonna-be-okay shrug from earlier is fleshed out into doggerel
> universalities — that the bleakness of night will once again give way to the
> light of day, that the flowers will bloom once more. (The actor-playwright
> Noël Coward once expressed his astonishment at "how potent cheap music is."
> When you're a certain age, I guess the same could be said of dime-store
> philosophising.) And I love the repeated pleas to Aditi to please, please,
> please get out of her blue funk and crack a smile: Hey Aditi, has de, has
> de, has de, has de, has de, has de tu zara / Nahin to bas thoda, thoda,
> thoda, thoda, thoda, thoda muskura.
>
> Yet, there was the nagging realisation as the song came to a close that had
> it been played for me in a guessing game and had I been asked to figure out
> the composer, I would have dithered between AR Rahman and Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy
> and Vishal-Shekhar. Does it appear to anyone else that the lines between the
> troika at the top are increasingly beginning to blur? When the compositional
> style is 'Indian,' I find I'm able to instantly pick out Khwaja mere Khwaja
> as a Rahman creation (no other composer can whip up such a spiritual
> fervour), or Goonji si hai as a number by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy (their melody
> lines have the smoothest edges in the business).
>
> But it becomes murkier when we're talking pop-style compositions — like
> Kabhi kabhi Aditi, or Kahin to hogi (from the same album). If the composer's
> names were scratched out from the inlay cover of the Taare Zameen Par CD,
> would you settle on Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy as the brains behind Kholo kholo and
> Jame raho? Or, for that matter, even with Vishal-Shekhar's very
> Indian-sounding Main agar kahoon and Jag soona soona laage from Om Shanti
> Om, don't they make you think of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy? And couldn't Rahman's
> Mayya mayya from Guru be seen as a furtive escapee from the Vishal-Shekhar
> camp?
>
> I wish I knew where I'm going with this — based on the above, there seems
> to be some overarching summation to be made about modern-day composers,
> doesn't it? — but the only conclusion (if it can even be called that) is
> that compositional styles overlap a lot more than they used to.
>
> I was listening, recently, to Dil sajan jalta hai from Mukti, and even if I
> hadn't already known the name of the composer, the stanzas would have left
> me with little doubt. It's all a smooth rise-and-fall of melody, till we get
> to the phrases shabnam ke girne se, early in the second stanza, where the
> luscious curves flatten abruptly to straight lines, as if, for those few
> seconds, something had caused the scale to sputter and choke to near-death.
> That something is the unmistakable R D Burman signature. Now, why didn't we
> find this in anyone else's music of that time? I'll leave you to chew over
> that while I head back to clear my head with that ditty about Aditi.
>
> *Film critic,
> The New Indian Express.
> Feedback to this article
> can be sent to
> [EMAIL PROTECTED]
> **
>
> http://www.newindpress.com/sunday/sundayitems.asp?id=SEF20080531083111&eTitle=Cinema&rLink=0
>
>
> --
> regards,
> Vithur
>
> HELP EVER; HURT NEVER;
> LOVE ALL; SERVE ALL
> 
>



-- 
Cheers,
Pradeepan.

"All you need to do is, decide what to do with the time that is given to you
!"

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