Once writer Jayakanthan
wrote, ‘I have become a bundle of
contradictions’. And he enjoyed making this statement.
I love contradictions
too. As written in some of my previous posts, contradictions are poetic.
But why am I talking about contradictions now?
Let me explain. In my yesterday’s post, I spoke about the importance of appreciating music without getting into
the technical details. But today, I am going to mention the raga details in a song, albeit briefly.
Would it then mean that I am a bundle of contradictions too?
Yes and No (ah, isn’t this statement itself
contradictory?).
In any case, I am not against discussing the raga details of a song. If that was the
case, a majority of my posts –especially
in my other blog- wouldn’t have been written at all. What I meant yesterday-and
what I mean now- is that one need not break their heads in deciphering a raga as that would collapse the beauty
of music. At the same time, appreciating
a raga gives a different dimension to appreciation. One just has
to strike the right balance between the two.
Considering the kind of phenomenal work Raaja sir has done in terms of using Carnatic and Hindustani ragas, it would be an injustice to music itself if his raga usage is not brought to light. Raga itself is a very broad term and
it requires reams of writing to define and describe it. So rather than getting
into reams of writing now, let me focus on something else which of course is
totally relevant to what is being discussed now.
Recalling my yesterday’s
post again, I mentioned about different categories of film songs. The song
of the day falls in the category of ‘raga being used as a scale’.
While it is not uncommon to use notes of a raga as a scale in film songs, what Raaja
sir has done in ‘Chamaku Chamaku Chaam’(Kondaveeti Donga- 1990) is unique. Saaveri is a raga in carnatic music
which is not only very classical but
is also known for distinct use of a couple of swaras(‘ri’ and ‘dha’ to be specific). Even if one sticks
to the ascending/descending (aroh/avaroh)pattern,
it cannot be called as the raga(Saaveri) unless the swaras are sung in a particular way. Therefore, it needs a lot of
gumption to use such a raga in the
form of a scale. And that is what Raaja sir has done in this song!
Generally, in such experiments, the composition would sound stale as the raga would have lost its unique charm.
But surely it cannot happen with a composer who clearly knows what he is doing
and has the courage of conviction.
The entire composition
follows the structure of Saaveri and
yet sounds so different.
Yet another beauty of the composition is the prominent bass
guitar which sounds with resonance and appears now and then. Whenever it
appears, it seems as if a cobra is showing its hood, dancing and then
disappearing fleetingly.
In fact, the ‘snake feel’ is present throughout the
song as we are ‘charmed’ right from the beginning.
Listen to the beats from the tribal drums for one full cycle
followed by the ‘special syllables’ rendered by SPB for yet another cycle. Most importantly, listen to the sax backed(or should I say ‘fronted’)
by the bass guitar. And to the synthesiser which plays the tune of the
Pallavi(just the first three
phrases) I am sure you have already started dancing, swaying your upper body to
and fro.
And the dance continues in the Pallavi with SPB and Chitra singing with gay abandon even as
the bass guitar, the family of guitar and the synthesiser nod their heads in glee.
What can one say about the interludes?
The first
interlude sees the camaraderie and also the friendly banter between the guitar and the strings. The strings
repeat the melody of the guitar but
the guitar does not want to remain
as a passive spectator even during this ‘response’ and therefore plays along with
the strings. It plays a melody again
in the higher octave and after a
brief rendezvous with the flute,
lets the strings play on their own. And
what a melody it is! Doesn’t it make us fly even as we keep dancing? The guitar finally plays yet another melody
before the first CharaNam and it
seems like ice skating.
The second
interlude is more playful. The guitar
first plays with a touch of insouciance. It then combines with the synthesiser to produce some amazing
funny sounds. The strings then move
as waves to make it a stirring experience. All through this, the bass guitar involves itself but without
in anyway compromising on its uniqueness.
The lines in the CharaNams flow, gush, rush and spout with the strings-in the last segment-
blowing like a breeze and the bass guitar
going against the stream.
Swimming against the tide is exciting indeed
provided the swimmer knows to go with the flow.
Does this sound contradictory?
Well, contradictions are poetic..you see!
PS: Ugadi Subhakankshalu!!!
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