Part 3

(continued from Part 2)
In fact, it was a dubbed movie. And the year was 1979. The movie, though directed by Balachander, was considerably weird for mainstream's taste. But the music helmed by the veteran, Balachander's regular, M.S.Viswanathan was nothing short of spectacular. And from that album springs about the song in question. "SambhO Siva SambhO" was the pick of the litter from among the other melodies in teh album "andamaina anubhavam". The song, sung by M.S.Viswanathan in the original version and Balu in telugu, is known for its manic energy first, and for its unrelenting orchestration next. The full throated rendition (both by MSV and SPB) matches the feverish pace and pitch of the guitar and the drums, both running amok in the background. It is not often that songs, as above, are scored with a such a gay abandon, setting aside the sliderules and format principles for a second, and just let the moment, content and context completely take over. Ecstacy is one of those emotions that is particularly difficult to be conveyed through musical notations, like how it is with the regular emotional pallette, containing sorrow, happiness and aggression. Ecstacy requires some kind of break way mechanism, from the standards to let the emotion alone dictate the expression. Consider for a moment, the instant when Meenakshi discovers the joy (not the happiness, but joy) in the dedication and application of her senses to the art of dancing in the movie "swarNa kamalam", during the song "andela ravamidi padamuladaa.." and contrast it to the other moment when is genuinely happy like an unfettered bird in "aakASamlO ASala harivillu..". While both the songs speak of the joy within, "andela ravamidi" goes one step forward in completely surrendering all her defences, as she lets the soul soar ("ambara manTina hRdayamudaa...").

The song in discussion talks about one such ecstatic moment. The movie is "abhilAsha" and the song "navvindi malle chenDu, nacchindi girl friendu". It is about a guy, who just professes his love to somebody, with whom he supposes his chances are next to none to none. And as fortune favors the brave, both the heroine and the auidence get ready for an earful, from a guy who is deliriously ecstatic. And the result is loud and clear. Balu's rendition of the song was one of pure joy. Janaki's interluding with waves of unabashed laughter never lets the tempo down. As far as the orchestration goes, the song is distinctly divided between the constant blare of the horn section (particularly the ever energetic trumpet) and resonating beat of the drum. While the trumpet sets off the ignition charge during the intro and the pallavi, the ever present drum beat safely sees the song off, during the interludes and the charaNams, to not skip a beat with each of Balu's howls of joy and Janaki's peals of laughter. Needless to say that after "SambhO Siva SambhO", no other song matched the exuberance and the raw energy of "navvindi malle chenDu" since, and the way the song was translated on the screen, with not somuchas scripted choreography, but more of playful movements (dangerously bordering on circus buffoonery) brought out in Chiranjeevi's performance (and Kodandarami Reddy's brilliantly cut montages interspersing the dance moves), made it a grand (re)entry vehicle for Ilayaraja.

Sadly this is the age of data banks, in film-music parlance, song banks, meaning, the composer is going to have a reserve of tunes that he had previously composed but not yet used, which he is going to distribute among the people seeking his music, sometimes on a first come first serve basis and some other times on a favorite basis. A smaller movie would get insignificant tunes while a bigger production would get most of his attention and better tunes. In such times, it is particularly hard to even conceive of the idea that there was a day and age, when each song was painstakingly composed just in time, and the output of the music director not only reflected on his ability to compose, but also on the team of the producer, director and the lyricist to extract the apt work out of him. And those certainly weren't the days, when music directors tried to space out and spread out their winning compositions over more movie, consciously thinking about longevity. Or how else could one explain tune after tune, each more melodious than the previous, and the previous more haunting than the latter, that Ilayaraja composed for "abhilAsha". The flute speaks out innocently and the guitar joins in ever so gently as a succession of quick thumps give way to the haunting chorus that gradually joins into the song "bantee chamantee muddaaDukunnaayi lae". "urakalai gOdavari urike naa voDi lOniki", "vaeLaa pALa laedu kuurraaLLaTaki", "sande poddulakADa sampangi navvindi"...

Ilayaraja was in no mood of letting up dishing out one delectable tune after another, each melodious in its own right and each one memorable for its own reason. "abhilAsha" went on to become a milestone in each of the significant player's careers connected with the movie - K.S.Rama Rao, the producer, Kondandarami Reddy, the director, Veturi, the lyricist, and of course, Chiranjeevi - and the fellowship was forged. It is very befitting that most of the players involved with the movie were just starting out, early in their careers, with a burning desire to try something different and with a raging fire to make a mark. And make a mark, they certainly did. More than with anybody else, it is the association with Veturi that Ilayaraja's compositions would find a greater acceptance and universal appeal, im the scores of the movies to follow. That Veturi's words could cut both ways, commercially and aesthetically, found a fitting match in Ilayaraja's tunes, which are equally ambidextrous and equally engaging. For every 10 movies that Ilayaraja wielded the baton in Tamil, he scored for one movie in telugu. Again, as is the case of the current generation's cross pollinated composers who routinely rehash their hits in one language in another language, most of Raja's compositions were fairly original, sounding completely native and utterly divine.

The movie - Rajkumar. The song - "rAmuDu kalaganalaedu, jAnaki sati kaagaladani aanADu...".

What is the truly distinguishing feature of a great tune? Take away the orchestral accompaniments completely out of the picture and the song should be able to stand on its own merit without the crutches of technological wizadry of orchestral gimmickry. And the haunting melody "rAmuDu anukOlaedu..." is one such great tune. With minimal instrumental treatment, Ilayaraja relies entirely on the soothing and the soft tune to glide through the stanzas and the interludes to deliver a song, that is as everlasting as it is fleeting - the former in effect and the latter in listening time.

Bapu's movies move at a languid pace. They have a tinge of laid-backness associated with them. Frenzy, franatic, manic are some of the adjectives that do not apply to his principle of movie making. Music in his movies are more for moving and framing words along a poetic path. Word have a higher precedence in his film lexicon as the process of orchestration takes a back seat. But when Ilayaraja joined the zany world of Bapy "mantri gAri viyyankuDu", the result was just electric. K.V.Mahadevan understood Bapu's rhythms, ever since "saakshi", and therefore never stepped on the pedal even when the situation called for it (like in, "buddhimantuDu", when even for the unruly ANR, Mahadevan provided a more sober "bhoommeeda sukha paDitae tappu laedurA", than an aggressive "maava maava maava maava" that he provided for another ANR starrer). It is inherent to Bapu's style that his characters are more energetic than they are aggresive and consequently when the need arose for the show of arms, his style proved his drawback. But not so with Ilayaraja. With the unique advantage of not being saddled with Bapu's tag and baggage, when the scene called for an introduction song for teh hero, whose characterization is one dripping in aggression, youth and limitless energy, Ilayaraja answered the challenge with "manaku dOsti okaTae aastirA, jabardastee chaestae SAstirA". Again it was Balu, again it was Veturi, and luckily, again it was Chiranjeevi.

Bapu's picturization of the unique song was so different and completely against his natural tendencies of subtleties and slow paced nature, that the image along with the the sound, jumps out the screen and grabs at the attention of the viewer. It was as though the infectious enthusiasm of the whole group had rubbed off on Bapu. "mantri gAri viyyankuDu" unleashed the full spectrum of Raja's repertoire. As a complete contrast to "manaki dOsti okaTae AstirA", starts the slow melody with his trademark acoustic guitar strumming the familiar notes, as the singers settle into a slow and a gentle rhythm of "aemani nae madi pADedanu, tikamakalO ee makatikalO". A more traditional beat sets the tempo for "manasA SirasA nee nAmamu talacheda neevaeLa", while a more commercial tunes plays for "koluvainADe kOTla viluvainADe mA kobbarikAyala subbarAyuDe", making the entire album a memorable experience, not just in Raja's career, but also, surprisingly, Bapu's. Ilayaraja was just getting started that year, as all the above was only half the story...."Sagara Sangamam" flowed into the other half.

(continued in Part 4)

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