Morning Music
No better way to start off on a cloudy winter morning by playing one of the best acoustic guitar concert recordings of all time: John McLaughlin, Al Di Meola, and Paco De Lucia's "Friday Night in San Francisco". And since the first track itself gets the fires blazing full speed, here is (a part of) Mediterranean Sundance:
"It cries for the distance. For the sand of the incendiary South that begs for white camellias. It cries for an arrow without a target, an afternoon without a morning, for the first bird dead on the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart sorely wounded by five swords."
- from Federico García Lorca's "The Guitar"
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Ek Word Le Guru
The much awaited music album (including by myself, for Gulzar had written the lyrics) of the Mani Ratnam biopic "Guru" is out, and is not all that impressive, at least for a first listen, first thing on a Sunday morning.
I think AR Rahman's musical moves towards mixing quasi-raga-based tunes with classical western music based harmonies, such as in "Ey Hairathe" and "Jaage Hain" has't really panned out into that "wow" factor - these tracks come across as something you had already heard somewhere before. The only exceptions are tracks - ("Satrangi Re" from "Dil Se" tinged) "Mayya Maryem" and "Tere Bina", which deliver on the strength of their strong rythm (or beat) sections.
Finally, for godsakes, who was it that picked vocal idiots like Udit Narayan and Bappi Lahiri as backup singers?! Give me Sukhwinder of "Dil Se" any day. That said the lead track "Tere Bina", I predict, will alone sell this album never mind its averageness overall*. Moving on to Thyagaraja's kirthis...
* A judgement that might change once I decipher what new metaphors Gulzar has managed to pack into the lyrics.
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Thumris and such
For the longest time I have been waiting for someone to write a deeply researched history (or a good historical novel based ) on Wajid Ali Shah[1], the final Nawab of Oudh (or Awadh), and a degenerate[2] patron and practioner of the arts - this man did it all, singing, dancing, composing, and writing. Further, if there is a Hollywood-ish Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in Indian classical music, in my book, Wajid would be right up there with Tansen, just for writing and composing that exquisitely beautiful thumri Babul mora naihar.
I came back to this thumri after not having heard it in years this morning (in the voice of Bhimsen Joshi), and even though it is an intensely sad thumri, it has made my day. Here is my rough translation of the lyric that Wajid wrote when he was exiled from his beloved Lucknow to Calcutta:
Father! I depart, against my will, from your home. Four men have gathered to lift my palnquin away. Those who were mine will soon become strangers, And these courtyards of my life will become desolate, When I leave your house, father, for the husband's distant land.
[1] Should we page Willy D, now that his book on Zafar Shah is out, to get on this pronto?
[2] He got married, as per the norm for nawabs, 359 times. Damn! I should have been born a nawab.
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