Going pop - is it worth the trouble?

Udit Narayan’s fourth private album Jaanam, is out in the market. Going by current (non) standards of Indipop, it may be an above-average album, but considering the fact that it is a vehicle for one of filmdom’s topmost singers, it is remarkably disappointing. The songs have the kind of negative virtues (like those dry Rajshri films in the ’70s), but save for a couple of songs which linger, the rest drone on, and you have forgotten how a predecessor goes while hearing the following track. Which is doubly sad when you consider the fact that Udit has sung them with his customary soulfulness, and with far less pronounciation defects (his Achilles Heel) than usual.


His previous albums, a non-starter whose name escapes me, and I Love You, which initially sold quite well and established a name for Wings Music, and Love Is Life the follow-up, had precisely the same problem - the songs kowtowed to Udit’s image, his forte and his style. No one, neither the company nor the composer, nor to be fair, Udit himself, found it necessary to break new ground, meet compositional and vocal challenges and achieve what was the express purpose of coming out with the album in the first place - establishing their distinct identity. Udit’s name helped sell the album, when the actual idea was to establish a following for Udit the singer, as against Udit, that saleable playback voice for top stars.

When she came out with Tum Yaad Aaye, Alka Yagnik told me that the reason why she entered the field of private albums was that very few people were aware of Alka Yagnik per se. "When I sang a mega-hit like Ek do teen char," she told, "I was the last person associated with it by the public. To them it was a Madhuri Dixit song all the way, and after that it was associated with the film, the music directors and the lyricist! But it’s unfair to belittle the contribution of a singer in any hit song." Maybe this focussed missionary fire brought her to excel in the album, helped in no small measure by Raju Singh’s caressing tunes and Javed Akhtar’s supple lyrics. And to date, Tum Yaad Aaye remains the only super-successful private album of any top female playback singer.

Which brings us to the piquant point - is all the effort worth it? Looking at Alka’s exceptional case, it would seem as if the singers are better off doing playback and leaving the ‘private’ scene to those who are struggling to make a name for themselves. Today, Sonu Nigam has quit anchoring the TV show Sa Re Ga Ma not because his album Deewana (again the only successful album of a top male playback artist) broke all previous sales records in basic albums, but because he wants to focus on singing in general - and he knows that 95% of this singing is for films.

Kumar Sanu - poor man - could never get even an average private album and whatever success he has had outside the film ambit is restricted to cover versions and Bengali albums. In Hindi, all of his basic work (a couple of ghazal albums and a horrendous 1996 excrescence called Jiye Jaa) never even joined the race.

Kavita Krishnamurthi and Poornima came up with fine albums - the former with Koi Akela Kahan on Plus Music and the latter with Chal Shirdi Ke Ore, also on Wings, but neither of them being the kind of pop-corn encouraged by channels and the powers-that-be, they sank into anonymity again. Preeti Uttam’s Sur was another prize package (complete with a state-of-the-‘mart’ video of acrobatic females for a semi-classical song!) Sunidhi Chauhan’s album - says the singer herself - had its prospects damaged beyond repair by the music company itself and Jaspinder Narula’s Kuch Kuch Dil Mein was average in performance and calibre. Anuradha Paudwal got the pits in Ahsaas and Sadhana Sargam never even got to record one.

One can argue that Shanker Mahadevan had his ace, Breathless, but then there are two things: Breathless did better than most albums because of its inherent quality and novelty, but was certainly no super-seller. Moreover, Shanker yet has to get a hit solo status as singer in Hindi films, and the poor guy is till typecast in alaaps and songs that need someone to holler at a high pitch (Que sera sera/Pukar). Vinod Rathod’s and Sukhwindara Singh’s albums came and went unnoticed and unmarketed.

On the other hand, Hema Sardesai’s Hindustani Gudiya and Abhijeet’s Main Deewana Hoon failed to get the recognition and success they deserved. Abhijeet feels that the video was bad and that it sabotaged the sales, but that is a very unconvincing excuse indeed. The songs were too classy - with a couple of exceptions - to succeed.

And that’s the nub. The formula for a hit album, like a hit film, simply does not exist. You can flop because you are too commercial or if you are quite classy. The perfect tight-rope is needed, and that happens and cannot be engineered. The magic of Deewana could not be repeated - appeal-wise or sales-wise - with its designer follow-up Jaan. And Sonu’s Mausam came a cropper, while his utterly crass Kismat fared relatively better.

Says Abhijeet, "I am being very careful about every aspect of my new album. In one year we have only finalised half the tunes. Because we singers are the stars. You will not watch a Raj Kapoor film or song every day, but no day passes without hearing Mukesh’s voice. And so is the case with Lataji, Ashaji, Rafisaab and Kishoreda. Many don’t even know the film’s or the star’s name, but the song is instantly recognised by its singer.
But if this is the case (as seems so), and Alka is underestimating her own importance in her chart-toppers, why bother to sing basic albums? After all, Mukesh, Lata and Rafi all did private albums galore in their days, but they are remembered overwhelmingly for their immortal film songs.
Should playback singers stick to playback? I ‘pop’ this query to you.

Rajiv Vijayakar