Mar 13, 2007 03:26 PM
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Madhur Bhandarkar attempts a true blue musical in his film on glamour and the glamorous; for this, he has unexpectedly chosen a relatively new Shamir Tandon, rather than rely on an established name in the industry. Tandon has earlier given us a few bloopers in Rakth.
The cover proudly proclaims ‘a complete album’ and gives us the photos of the singers, instead of the in-film stills as is norm. On the first, I have my reservations. On the second, it is justified; especially, if you have singers ranging from Lata Mangeshkar to Asha Bhosle to Adnan Sami to Suresh Wadkar…the cover asserts that it is a singer dominated album- and that makes Tandon’s life considerably easier!
Well, to be honest, the album is good in parts. And, the best parts are the opening and the closing tracks! No, this is not meant to be a funny line thrown in, but a genuine fact.
Let’s start from the end: Asha Bhonsle’s Huzoor – e- aala is smooth and silky, and the crooner sounds young, hot and in the groove. Of course, the ditty is built around the old OP Nayyar songs, but thankfully, is not a rehash or remix or an absolute copy! It is original in its own right, and very hummable. One thing though, the song is labeled as ‘Bonus track’- when Yash Chopra gave those two numbers in Veer Zaara CD, the songs parted ways from the film’s music while retaining the same flavor; unfortunately, Huzoor-e-aala sounds too situational to be a stand-alone number.
Amit Kumar(bless him, where has he been all these years?) croons Filmi very filmi with full verve and vivaciousness that would make his father proud! Like the Naseebsong(John Jaani Janardhan), lyricist Sandeep Nath has fun in weaving in names of today’s top notch stars. He is accompanied(rather, irritated) by Blaaze and Taanishta Chatterjee.
Though Adnan Sami has started to sound the same with the trademark curls and curves(I am talking about his voice, sillies) the song Mere wajood mein is quite well tuned and well orchestrated too. Unfortunately, the song is too ‘masculine’ in its composition for Sadhna Sargam to do any justice in the female version. The inlay card tells us this song is not there in the film; if so, then, why did they make her sound like twisted kurkures?
The two rock and growl numbers Lets Dance and Jhoot Boliyan are best enjoyed in the discotheques, so suffice to say they are foot tapping but no paths broken by them! These are ‘tired’ and tested numbers and will scuttle up and down the middle orders of the charts.
So, I shall jump straight on to the top of the heap, and the best part of the album, which makes spending Rs 100 on the CD absolutely worthwhile – Lata Mangeshkar’s Kitne ajeeb rishte hai yahan pe… of course, Lata, as ever, sounds marvelously mellow and syrupy sweet; especially, it is(once more) a revelation to hear her go base at the beginning of each antara taking it steadily up to a breathtaking crescendo. This one song in itself can serve a lesson to all aspiring singers. Sounding a bit like a seventies creation, the song is easy on the lips(such philosophical theme songs can often be too heavy to digest) with good music and rhythm. The backup vocals(not credited in this version, but done so in the male one) are by Vivienne Pocha and Pankaj Saroagi, and provide able support. I have not stopped humming it since the day I heard it. And, it does have poignant and meaningful https://lyrics. In all, a very satisfying song!
The sad version(Lata Mangeshkar) is well…sad! Too bad Tandon botched up completely there. The male version by Suresh Wadkar is redundant; more so, as the cover tells us, sadistically again, that it is not there in the film.
Before ending, one small note: Sapna Awasthi springs up from oblivion and raucously threatens Kuan ma kood jaaoongi…my suggestion: by all means, help yourself, lady! Who’s stopping you?
