Friday, November 4, 2016

Music And Us.

You know there was a time, when music and songs made sense? Yes, they made sense. Even Anuradha Paudwal's bhajans made sense then, yes, the very songs about Jai Ganesha and Kunchai Bihari. It's simple, no rocket science in there, basically back in those days, lyrics were crafted well, people put thoughts in them and weren't they melodies, hymns and rhythms? Oh they all made sense. And not to forget all those singers had some melody and soothing voices. 

Lately I have been trying to search good songs and then when I stumble with all the songs on my playlists, it gets me worried. The songs are about butts, Friday nights, cheap thrills and chills, and cheap liquor, and the list goes on. Amongst aghast these pejorative derogatory lists, these agonizing noises, even Nga chey Gi Superman bay gay song sounds so soothing.   

Then I chose to recall few of the songs, the songs which I were fond of. I then realized that I was very faithful to soft rock or punk rock during my college days, and yes, Blink 182 really made sense. There was a time, when I listened and rehearsed all the lyrics of their songs. My still favourite being What's my Age again and All the Small Things. Then I remembered about Sum 41 and their Fat lip. It then took me slightly forward in time, when I listened to Boys like Girls and The All American Rejects. With memories dwelling like pendulum, to and fro, I remember Good Charlotte, Puddle of Mud and Simple Plan. Oh, those were the songs, even though they were noisy to my parents, they were meaningful songs. 

Then I went way back to high school. It brought a smile on my face and I searched them in my system, but thanks to youtube, I could pin down those songs. It is then I realized how beautiful songs really were then, when lyricists actually did a good job and singers were actually talented. No echo or mixer enhanced nitwits back then? And I would still give Noble Prize to Rob Stewart over Bob Dylan. Not to instill arguments, but Rob Stewart was always my favourite, not because he sang about Oceans being apart, but he sang 'I don't want to talk about it'. It is in his voice, in his noise, that I can poise: how touching and painful his songs were. You should read those lyrics if you have time. Those days perhaps, lyricist didn't nurture and proliferate apathy upon them? 

Then I recalled a bit more, the songs that I listened back then. Dire Straits was long gone, yet he existed amongst the high school infants while they tried to synchronize his guitar tunes, and who didn't enjoy Sultans of Swing. I however had found my solace on Lady Writer on Tv and Money for nothing. Then I remember Smokie's Needles and Pins, and how anguishing the lyrics were. I recalled Saturday Night Live Fever and how me and my friend would listen and mumble: I, I, I, Staying alive, staying alive. 

Then I recalled The Grease's CD cover, and how John Travolta looked in skinny black leather jacket and pants. How Summer Time was a melodies song and how Sandy was painful one. Yet it all made sense then and now, the lyrics were just beautiful. Then I recalled those cheap CDs from Jaigaon whereby we could have any other song which were released then. I laughed over Lou Bega's Mambo Number 5 and which year was it? 2004 or 2005? It came on Valentine's hits then, and we only had 15 songs in Audio CD. Everybody did know Blue's You make me Wanna and Enrique's Escape. Some even danced to these odd songs, and kudos to them, impossible is nothing was proved! 

But no matter what, my generation will never fail to sing or sing chorus upon Pearl Jam's Last Kiss or John Denver's Take me Home nor will they fail to sing She will be Loved by Maroon 5. And weren't we all up there, listening to Summer of 69 with goosebumps and air guitaring? While Eagles were too mellow except for Get Over It? And how will any lover of music and teenage-infatuation-effected millennial forget to relate with Micheal Learns to Rock, Don Williams and Dire Straits? Didn't it become slightly uglier when few of our friends started to sing Akon's Blame on Me wearing hood jackets, during those chilly autumn days? 

And I really go beyond those high school days, and I remember few of the songs whose lyrics were just mind boggling, and Kishor Kumar with Pyar Diwanna Hota hai gets played in my head. I laugh when I see Askhay Kumar there with black shades and some scarf on his head with Tu Cheez Bari Hai Mast Mast! 

But it was then, and those were the days, when songs meant something, when singers were true and it was an art. They didn't have to expose some of their flesh to sell their music, neither did they have to hire some mansion or sports cars or for that matter, women whom they didn't have to portray in a very derogatorily manner - belittling them and showcasing them as if what pleased the eyes could please the ears. 

I am not sure, whether you have heard this song or not, but this is just an example about how songs were way back, and yes, they made sense, and they truly were artists: 

When the sun shines on the mountains
And the night is on the run
It's a new day, it's a new way
And I fly up to the sun
I can feel the morning sunlight
I can smell the new-born hay
I can hear God's voices calling
From my golden sky-light way
Una paloma blanca
I'm just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountain I fly
No one can take my freedom away
~ Una Paloma Blanca by George Bacer. 
To those who have listened to Bob Dylan's Blowing in the Wind, please do try Peter, Paul and Mary's version as well. And do listen to Cotton Field by CCR, Top of the World by The Carpenters, This Land is Your Land sung by Bruce Springsteen. 

The lists could go on, but I stop here. And I wonder, somewhere between evolution of music - the era which sprouted revolution amongst sounds - somewhere before - way back while Plato's Philosophies, Voltaire's writings, William Blake's Poems and Beethoven's Symphonies, and of course, the Beatles and Bee Gees, Bruce Springsteen and ABBA, Dire Straits and Ozzy Osbourne, Bryan Adams and Eagles, Tupac Shakur and Kurt Cobain, Bob Marley and Beat Generation Writers, John Lennon and Bob Dylan, Rod Stewart and John Denver and Don Williams, ACDC and The Journey or the Eagles, Eminem and Eric Clapton, etc., somewhere we went wrong, we compromised for what's left as a trash, trash from the music industries around the globe. And I feel sorry for the upcoming generation, how would they know unless it doesn't have techno in it, or something about butts or hangovers, vodka or tequila, and the list goes on and on. We wonder what the world has come up to, we don't however foresee how much we get ruined over the time, when our forms of art, science, philosophy and literature are too much demeaning. 

I then search for all those songs and try to make a playlist, and wonder, technology was a boon or curse, that I surely don't know, but it hasn't made artists of this era any further creative! Here's some Himesh Reshmiya for the long post! :P 

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