Music Review: Chekka Chivantha Vaanam (Tamil)
Composer(s): A. R. Rahman
Listen to the songs online here: Saavn
The A. R. Rahman of 2018 is a far, far cry from the A. R. Rahman who debuted in Mani Ratnam's Roja 26 years ago. Gone are the soft, Carnatic-soaked melodies, and in its place are unconventional tunes that defy mainstream sensibilities.
And now, it appears Rahman has quite remarkably transitioned from making music that was merely catchy and fun to something far more idiosyncratic, becoming gifts that would keep on giving with every listen. This tendency to rip apart the playbook has given way to some cleverly arranged soundscapes where there's very little in his music that's outright hummable, ceasing to be no longer a simple collection of songs of five to six different themes, or a sonic experimentation built around those moods.
They are not a hit parade, they are not something that you can casually jam to (although it depends on your mood I guess?), but at the same time they do sound a lot richer. Yes, the electronic influences are bit of a hit and miss, but you can't fault him for his desire to seek out something fresh and exciting.
In a recent interview, Rahman mentioned how he is constantly trying to reinvent himself, and how "even if a song becomes a superhit and I'm asked to repeat something on that mode, I don't do it." It's an appreciable stance to take, and if there is someone in the industry who can afford to do it, it's him. With Chekka Chivantha Vaanam, this experimentation of his comes full circle.
The songs flit from bubbling pop confection (Mazhai Kuruvi, although it would have been better served by a different singer) to serrated, industrial-sounding bangers (Sevandhu Pochu Nenju, Kalla Kalavaani) to compelling Arabic-rap fusion (Hayati — it's as if Mayya Mayya was given a smooth, contemporary rap makeover) to mournful guitar-backed lament (Bhoomi Bhoomi; the ululation that starts when Shakthisree Gopalan goes paavi nenje... is electrifying), making it faintly difficult to get a handle on the music, all the while taking its own sweet time to warm up to.
Madura Marikozhundhae is perhaps the most accessible of the lot, riding on a disquieting a cappella'esque bedrock that's deeply evocative of Raasathi, Malarodu Malaringu and Anbendra (or is it the Anuradha Sriram factor?), as is Praaptham, where Rahman is joined by Karthik for an Aaromale-styled angst-laden bluesy throwback that makes for an intriguing listen.
Chekka Chivantha Vaanam is many things, a largely theme-driven soundtrack, a whirlwind jaunt through world music, and a giant left turn from a composer who is used to taking so many. But playlist-friendly it is not. But I am happy I gave it a shot, because I ended up liking it a lot. Maybe you will too.
Listen to the songs online here: Saavn
The A. R. Rahman of 2018 is a far, far cry from the A. R. Rahman who debuted in Mani Ratnam's Roja 26 years ago. Gone are the soft, Carnatic-soaked melodies, and in its place are unconventional tunes that defy mainstream sensibilities.
And now, it appears Rahman has quite remarkably transitioned from making music that was merely catchy and fun to something far more idiosyncratic, becoming gifts that would keep on giving with every listen. This tendency to rip apart the playbook has given way to some cleverly arranged soundscapes where there's very little in his music that's outright hummable, ceasing to be no longer a simple collection of songs of five to six different themes, or a sonic experimentation built around those moods.
They are not a hit parade, they are not something that you can casually jam to (although it depends on your mood I guess?), but at the same time they do sound a lot richer. Yes, the electronic influences are bit of a hit and miss, but you can't fault him for his desire to seek out something fresh and exciting.
In a recent interview, Rahman mentioned how he is constantly trying to reinvent himself, and how "even if a song becomes a superhit and I'm asked to repeat something on that mode, I don't do it." It's an appreciable stance to take, and if there is someone in the industry who can afford to do it, it's him. With Chekka Chivantha Vaanam, this experimentation of his comes full circle.
The songs flit from bubbling pop confection (Mazhai Kuruvi, although it would have been better served by a different singer) to serrated, industrial-sounding bangers (Sevandhu Pochu Nenju, Kalla Kalavaani) to compelling Arabic-rap fusion (Hayati — it's as if Mayya Mayya was given a smooth, contemporary rap makeover) to mournful guitar-backed lament (Bhoomi Bhoomi; the ululation that starts when Shakthisree Gopalan goes paavi nenje... is electrifying), making it faintly difficult to get a handle on the music, all the while taking its own sweet time to warm up to.
Madura Marikozhundhae is perhaps the most accessible of the lot, riding on a disquieting a cappella'esque bedrock that's deeply evocative of Raasathi, Malarodu Malaringu and Anbendra (or is it the Anuradha Sriram factor?), as is Praaptham, where Rahman is joined by Karthik for an Aaromale-styled angst-laden bluesy throwback that makes for an intriguing listen.
Chekka Chivantha Vaanam is many things, a largely theme-driven soundtrack, a whirlwind jaunt through world music, and a giant left turn from a composer who is used to taking so many. But playlist-friendly it is not. But I am happy I gave it a shot, because I ended up liking it a lot. Maybe you will too.
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