RAJESH ROSHAN 25 years of melody Music composer Rajesh Roshan completes 25 years in the film industry this year. Despite changing trends and tastes, he has more than managed to hold his own over the last quarter of a century... Twenty-five years ago, there were three music directors who had established a stronghold so tough that no other composer - new or old - could break through their monopoly. But proving the axiom that you can’t really stop a real talent. Rajesh Roshan, younger son of the late genius Roshan, broke through into this elite Kalyanji-Anandji/R.D. Burman/Laxmikant-Pyarelal league with Mehmood’s Kunwara Baap. With his very first film, Rajesh Roshan topped the annual Binaca Geet Mala, the only countdown show of the time, with Saj rahi gali meri amma, the hijra song sung by Mohammed Rafi. Main hoon ghoda yeh hain gaadi, Jai Bholenath jai ho Prabhu and Aa ri aaja nindiya added to what was virtually an all-hit score. The most refreshing feature of his songs was that Rajesh’s musical idiom was totally different from that of any other music composer, which included dad Roshan and Laxmikant-Pyarelal, under whom he had learnt his practical ropes. His second release was Julie (1975), produced by B. Nagi Reddy, the man who had been Columbus to his actor-brother Rakesh. This all-hit score bagged Rajesh Roshan a major award. Probably for the first time in Hindi films, a full-fledged English song, My heart is beating, was composed and picturised in typical Hindi film fashion - and was a huge hit. Other nuggets from the film included Dil kya karen; Yeh raaten nayi purani; Saancha naam tera and Julie, I love you. Between then and 1982, Rajesh Roshan went from strength to strength with scores as varied, refreshing and, above all, invidualistic, as Swami; Priyatama; Doosara Aadmi; Inkaar (all 1977), Khatta Meetha and Des Pardes (1978), Mr Natwarlal (1979), Swayamwar (1980), Yaarana (1981), Khuddar and Kaamchor (1982). Then followed a low-key phase, when the Hyderabad-school of filmmaking and Bappi Lahiri’s disco music held sway. But even in this period, Rajesh scored a hit with Jaag Utha Insan (1984) and Khoon Bhari Maang (1988). In the ’90s, when even the mighty Laxmikant-Pyarelel and the doughty Bappi Lahiri gradually lost their bearings, Rajesh has endured through films like Jurm and Bahaar Aane Tak (1990) — and after another dull phase, Karan Arjun and Sabse Bada Khiladi (1995), Papa Kahte Hain (1996), Koyla (1997) and now Laawaris and Daag - The Fire, both of which are climbing the charts. In an era when only a hit film’s score is noticed, Rajesh has also delivered impressive scores in such non-starters as Kaun Sachaa Kaun Jhootha and Dastak (1996), and Dandnayak and Main Solah Baras Ki (1998). Apart for his aversion to publicity, Rajesh is known in the industry for his soft-spoken nature. Laxmikant termed him The Last Of The Originals and Kavita Krishnamurthi terms him the most gentlemanly of all the composers. In his Juhu, Mumbai music room (where his father too composed his unforgettables). Rajesh rewinds and unwinds to Screen across his father’s harmonium which he continues to use. Excerpts from the interview: How would you sum up the last 25 years? (Smiles) On the whole, I’d say they have been very smooth, despite the massive changes which have been taking place continually in music and in the working system (in musical tastes). Thanks to true music lovers, I have never once felt left out in these 25 years. There was a time when I had just two films on hand, my brother’s Bhagwan Dada and Vimal Kumar’s Ghar Sansar. But I did my best and they both proved musical hits. My determination to stay in the race saw to it that I adapted to major changes in trends. What would you rate as your greatest achievements? (Ponders). I think I am the only composer who has successfully coped with a complete revolution in the working system and in the structure of film music. When I started out, I used to record ‘live’ with a 100-piece orchestra. Only in a rare song would electronics come in - I remember Viju Shah as a musician using a small mini-Korg synthesiser. Today 90 per cent of my work is done on a state-of-the-art Korg. And I have still maintained my individual style. I have been called The last of the originals. Now isn’t that a big compliment from a senior? In my own way, I have also been a trendsetter. What is considered modern film music is very close to my style of music in Julie, which was totally new at that time. Finally, I am proud of the fact that my music from the ’70s and ’80s is still popular, and that I will be remembered only because my music lives on, and not because of controversies. What is the most important change you have seen during this 25-year period? That the producer and director have taken away the right of the music director to compose and be himself? That creative environment has gone. Do you know that for the five song situations of Julie I gave just five tunes to Nagi Reddysaab? He never even asked for a sixth tune. The music director was judged by the quality of his work, not by the quantum of assignments or how he promoted himself. Today, a producer thinks that a music director who has twenty films is better than one who has five. Similarly, you are asked to play several tunes and are assessed on that basis. They say, Aap ne chaar hi dhuney sunayi? (But you only presented four tunes!) Music director bees dhuney sunvaate hain! (Music directors usually present twenty tunes). They even take days to decide whether they want a particular tune or not. Some even come with cassettes of South Indian or Punjabi hits, or tell us to re-work Western songs, or even ask me for songs that can be re-worked! If you want to keep working you have to do it! A related problem is that they ask you to compose five songs in a jiffy. The producer approaches you weeks or months after he has signed you, just a week before he is to leave for his song picturisation schedule. And if you don’t keep his deadline, it’s everyone’s loss. Today, only about one out of my ten films satisfies me. Is that why you have done a whole bunch of Western copies recently? In 1995 - and you must write this - there were five copies of A.R. Rahman’s Muqabla including mine in Sabse Bada Khiladi. I have seen charts where the original Muqabala was at no. 8 and the copy at no. 2 or 3! As I said, one must survive even in such a milieu. In my own case, however, it is my original songs which have been huge hits throughout. But does anyone acknowledge this fact? Ghar se nikalte hi from Papa Kahte Hain was a chart-topper in the midst of the Rahman brand of music. Honestly speaking, where are the genuine music critics today? Why are the genuine music lovers silent? Today, good music clicks only if the film is a hit. Can you give a single instance of a great song from a flop film which has been even nominated for any award, leave alone actually bagging the award? But if one song is a hit, is over-promoted on TV, and the film also clicks. You even get the best music award even if the rest of the songs are not upto the mark. Does all this make you bitter? Look, I don’t blame anyone. Everyone’s caught up in this system. I am cool about it. There are tremendous pressures but I have survived. Even today’s singers do several songs in a day. That’s just not possible without spoiling both one’s voice and some or all of the songs they sing. But they too have to look at their own survival. A singer is judged by how many films he is doing and the number of songs he gets to sing in a day, and not how well he or she sings them. I remember Kishoreda, at his peak, would cancel a second recording if he needed more takes for the first! Is that why the ‘soul’ is lacking in most of today’s songs? All these factors do contribute. In our time, we cashed in on the masterly singers who could go beyond our compositions because they had been well groomed by an earlier generation of composers. We reaped the benefits of their hard work. I have introduced or given major breaks to so many singers - Udit Narayan, Alka Yagnik, Sadhana Sargam, Preeti Uttam etc. But we never got the opportunity to spend time on grooming them. You have never tried to fight or beat the system? Well, I have resisted the temptation to do twenty or more films at a time, though I know that I would have been considered a bigger name - and been richer, too. HMV and Muzaffar Ali offered me a film two years ago. They quoted a fabulous price and said I would get whatever I asked for. But they wanted nine songs in two months. I politely declined and told them that we could work again some other time. Now tell me, would any other composer have refused such a film and such big money coming within just two months? But I saw no reason why my other producers and their music should suffer. What are your forthcoming assignments? Apart from my brother’s Kaho Na... Pyar Hai, there are Tips’ Friends, directed by Kundan Shah; Officer; Ashok Mehta’s Moksha; Dil Ke Aas Paas; and Vimal Kumar’s new film with Govinda. Given a chance, what would you change if you could re-live these 25 years again? (Thinks) I have been very firm about a few things in the past, and I have lost major banners for it. For example, I would insist on a particular singer like Latabai or Ashabai even if the producer wanted someone else, because I knew which composition demanded which voice. I would probably listen to them now - at least if they are insistent despite my persuasion. Of the top of your head, what would your personal top ten read like? Kunwara Baap, Julie, Des Pardes, Yaarana, Karan Arjun, Papa Kahte Hain, Khudgarz, Mr Natwarlal. Does that make ten? That makes eight... You can add Jurm and yes, Khatta Meetha, I am rather fond of the songs from in this film. Off-hand, can you recollect any one incident which makes all this work worth it? I remember the day Kishoreda was to record for my Tumse badhkar duniya mein, for Kaamchor. In the morning he was to do a song for someone else and record with me in the evening. On the way he was hearing the cassette I had given him to rehearse. He almost reached the studio, which was 15 km from his house, when he suddenly asked his driver to turn back and drive back home. Kishoreda told him, ‘This song is so good that I won’t be able to do justice to it if I record another song in the morning!’ And any regrets? Well, there is one regret which applies to all composers as well. In the West, pop icons churn out less than 10 albums in a lifetime, of which about six are hits, and they earn fame and money in multiples of what our composers do with 75 or more hit albums to their name!