Tracing musical tastes

Tracing musical tastes

Over the years there's been a drastic change in music trends. The 50's is considered a golden era in the musical history while the 80's brought in the disco boom. A look at the changing tastes of the masses...

ery often, the younger generation comes up with questions like how Laxmikant Pyarelal managed to beat R. D. Burman during the 1970s-80s with innumerable hits. For example the music of Saagar (1985) was outsold by Meri Jung, or that Ijaazat's music (1988) sold less than Tezaab's. People of my generation were asked whether the taste of public at that time was so bad? That Naushad was more popular than Anil Biswas, S.D. Burman and Salil Chowdhury? That the 60's Shanker-Jaikishan were more popular than the 60's Roshan.

The answer to such questions is not simple. At times I have tried to reply, but my response has generally been more like a flashback on my younger/growing-up years than just a musical review of the era gone by, interspersed with the socio-economic background of the country. My love affair with Hindi films began in 1949, in Calcutta, many months before I started listening to the radio. When I discovered Radio Ceylon in late 1949 or thereabouts, the songs most frequently played were the Mahal number, 'Aayega, aayega aanewaalaa...', and songs from Barsaat, Andaaz and Anmol Ghadi. Their songs were played after 8 a.m., because radio time before that was restricted to the elders for bhajans and other such programmes aired on the Delhi radio station A, a medium wave broadcast. I had to turn the radio off or give up listening to it before 9 a.m. (in winters) to get ready for school. Since school began at 7 a.m. in the summers, there was no radio for me from the last week of March to late September/early October. In between, one has to throw in periods of radio breakdown - these were "tube" radios, and any wild fluctuations in voltage would burn the tubes off, necessitating a 26-mile trip - from my hometown of Rishikesh, to Dehradun to get it fixed. Whatever one could catch in those precious few hours of radio listening was what was retained by the brain cells, and appreciated. I hardly ever got to hear old film songs in those days. Yes, the elders frequently fumed about the absence of voices like K.L. Saigal, K.C. Dey, and I could not understand what they were complaining about, unable to comprehend why and how they could not like songs like 'Jiyaa bekaraar hai...' 'Hawa mein udataa jaaye...' (Barsaat - 1949); 'Toote naa dil toote naa...' (Andaz - 1949); 'Man mein kisii kii priit basaa le...'; 'Ai jaane jigar...' (Aaraam - 1951); 'Dil mein chhupake pyaar kaa tuufaan le chale...'; Gaao taraane man ke ki aashaa aayii dulhan banke...' (Aan - 1952) and so on. What I am trying to get at is that even in those days, Naushad, Shanker-Jaikishan (S-J), Anil Biswas, C. Ramchandra, Madan Mohan, etc., were composers whose music was considered "cheap" by people from the earlier generation (the only Naushad song that my folks liked and bought a record of was the 'Chhod babul kaa ghar...' (Babul - 1950). Owning a radio in those early 1950s was still almost a luxury; having a gramophone and some records to go with it a sure indulgence. This made movie going the most economical form of entertainment, and perhaps the only form available to the masses. I remember that my two-year-older brother and I used to save up whatever we could from our measly daily pocket allowance in order to watch a film, so that we could listen to all the songs at one go. This brings me to an important observation - that a song in an audio-visual format has a more lasting impact than in only audio. A perfect example would be the current hit music video version of the 1972 film Samadhi's song 'Kaantaa lagaa...', being aired on the television and dish network channels. The song has gained popularity - or should I say "notoriety", simply because of the "visuals" of the lead dancer showing off her midriff, especially, the 'blue thong'! Contrast this to the original song itself, which may have only been mildly popular on its release back in the 1970s. Also, the emotional or other situations in the film make a song that much more, or less, likeable. I remember having missed the film Poonam when it was released in 1952. Almost all my school friends saw it then and discussed the climax in the film and the song that accompanies it, Aayii aayii raat suhaani...'. I always liked that song immensely, but could never fully fathom what my friends were so mad about, until I saw the film, only about five or six years ago on video. I found their ravings sort of anti-climactic, but that was probably because I saw the film 45 years after its original release. I myself, perhaps would have been raving mad about the song had I seen the film then. This exemplifies another important factor - that of personal emotional maturity at the time of watching a film. A few more examples that I can cite here of the audio-visual vs. just the audio format are: 'Ye mehlon ye takhton ye taajon kii duniyaa...' from Pyaasaa (1957), with the hero standing in the silhouette in the crucifixion posture; and Nutan singing the 'Teraa jaanaa...' (Anari - 1959), as Raj Kapoor is going out from her home having just been told that for her all the 'action' was just a pastime! Conversely, some visual situations in the film can spell the doom for a song, and sometimes for the film, like the ones for Dekhaa baabuu chhed kaa mazaa...' and Teraa tiir o be-piir...' in Shararat (1959). That film's poor performance at the box office was due to a combination of the song picturisation which did not match up to the filmgoers' expectations and the more than a year-long delay in the film's release as it got stuck with the censors. Personally, speaking, I started liking the voices of K.L. Saigal, Noorjehan, Pankaj Mullick, Khan Mastana, Shamshad Begum, even Suraiya, much later in the mid-50's. Suraiya's songs were fabulous in films like Waaris, Shama Parwana - again two films that I did not see until the early 80's on video. And the climax song O parwaane...' in Shama Parwana brings a lump to the throat if you have seen the film. There's a lot of curiosity about why a talented composer like Salil Chowdhury was not so popular when he came on the Hindi film scene. A lot of a composer's success with the masses is related to the performance of the films at the box office. Films like Do Bigha Zamin (1952) and Naukri (1954) did not click with the masses, though critically praised. Biraj Bahu (1954) was more successful than the prior two, probably due to its conservative saga of a sacrificing woman that appealed to the families. But its songs could not cope up with contemporary competitors like 'Dekh tere sansaar kii haalat...' (Nastik), a very hummable, catchy song; or Jaayein to jaayein kahaan...' (Taxi Driver - S.D. Burman won the Best Music Director award for this song); or Na ye chaand hogaa...' (Shart); or 'Jogan ban jaaoongii saiyyan tore kaaran...' (Shabaab). Even a song from a film released a year earlier, ''Kaare badaraa tuu na jaa na jaa...' (Shikast) got more air time on Radio Ceylon than Biraj Bahu's Teraa ghar aabaad rahe...' even though the film won the Best Film award. 1954 was a year of outstanding music, with diverse songs in films like Aar Paar, Boot Polish, Taxi Driver, Shabaab, Naagin, Shama Parwaanaa, Amar, Pehli Jhalak Mirza Ghalib and Naastik, to name a few. Not all films clicked at the box office, though. Naukri was one of them, even though its 'Chhotaa saa ghar hogaa...' was immensely popular. C. Ramchandra's Kavi and Meenaar met the same fate at the box office, though songs like Tere raaste pe humne ik ghar banaa liyaa hai...' (Kavi), and 'Mehndi lage the mere haath...' and 'Zaraa mud ke to dekho saajnaa...' (Meenaar) made the chartbusters. Such beautiful songs as 'Mere pyaar mein tujhe kyaa milaa...' and Keh do ke muhabbat se na takraaye zamaanaa...' from Maan (1954), composed by Anilda, could not climb to the top since the film sank at the box office, just like Naaz and Mahatma Kabir. While Naaz's Jhilmil sitaaron ke tale...' and 'Katati hai ab to zindagi...' are personal favourites of mine (like many other music lovers), I used to, and still find Manna Dey's rendition of 'Baabul moraa naiihar chhuuto hi jaaye...' (Mahatma Kabiir) going straight to the heart. Munna was a song-less film . Waaris was one of Anilda's films that made news on its music front, also, the film clicked at the box office. The first five-year economic plan had been set in motion in 1952; and it had started to have an impact on the economy. More and more radios were being sold, and small, roadside restaurants found them to be a big plus to bring in customers. Every time our radio wouldn't work, I remember some friends and I would gather at a teashop so that we wouldn't miss the eagerly awaited Wednesday programme of Binaca Geet Mala. Besides the films, the music of that year was and remained an integral form of entertainment. Drama/theatre was still limited to the so-called elite. Operators like Prithvi Theatres were almost perpetually in the red. Their 1954/55 tour in New Delhi at the Delite cinema found practically half-empty halls, while even a fantasy film like Bahut Din Huye ran to nearly full house in its first week there. O.P.Nayyar had arrived with a bang in Aar Paar and in the years to come he would influence the popularity charts and maybe even the musical tastes of some members of the public. His music sold in the record shops and was requested on the airwaves. Radio Ceylon was the only station to air a half-hour daily request programme Aap Hi Ke Geet. Delhi radio station which broadcast only an hour of film music per week, mainly on Sundays never played any songs of O.P. Nayyar, till Naya Daur came along in 1957. That was about a year after the advent of Vividh Bharati. Even then, the song played mostly on Vividh Bharati was the nationalistic 'Saathii haath badhaanaa...' Vividh Bharati was started principally to compete against Radio Ceylon and its immensely growing popularity. Not that Radio Ceylon did not play non-film music at all! There was a 15-minute slot devoted to non-film geet and ghazals every weekday morning at 8.45 a.m., immediately after Aap Hi Ke Geet from 8 to 8.30 a.m., and Ek Hi Gaayak Ke Geet from 8.30 to 8.45 a.m. Later, the Aap Hi Ke Geet programme was extended to 8.45 a.m., eliminating the Ek Hi Gaayak Ke Geet. The main advantage, or edge, if you will, that Radio Ceylon had was in its broadcast frequency - short wave, while Vividh Bharati's was a medium wave broadcast from only major cities like Delhi and Bombay. Also, its range was limited in the early years. Noted poet/lyricist Pt. Narendra Sharma, I believe, was the person who set up and directed Vividh Bharati in the initial years. Just around this time, portable, battery operated transistor radios began appearing in the country, and soon became a craze. In a pilgrimage town like Rishikesh (my home town), where people from all over the country and from all walks of life came, especially during the summer, it was a common sight of (mostly younger) men walking with transistor radios, a scene just like the Boom boxes blaring music from roadside kerbs in cities across the US in the 80's. 1955 continued the reign of music directors like Naushad, S-J, O.P. Nayyar, C. Ramchandra and S.D Burman, even though the first two of them had fewer films than the previous year. Naushad had only one film in 1955 - Udan Khatola; S-J had two - Shri 420; and Seema coming at the fag end of the year. Shri 420's music had been released many months before the film hit the theatres, and 'Meraa joota hai jaapaani... and 'Mud mud ke na dekh...', 'Dil ka haal sune dilwaala...', 'iichak daanaa biichak daanaa...', 'Ramaiyya vastawaiyya...', 'Pyaar hua ikraar huaa hai...' were literally bachche bachche ki zubaan par. The film, with its somewhat socialistic theme, hit the bull's eye and went on to celebrate silver jubilees across the nation in many centres.

Courtesy : Screenindia,2004.

Thanx di......another nice article that might help a lot of us to know things a lil differently 😊

Thanx Di for the wonderful post! I love all the Era's of our music but my childhood was in the disco era and it made my childhood really memorable for me. 😛 😛

thanx 👏 👏 👏

Just around this time, portable, battery operated transistor radios began appearing in the country, and soon became a craze. In a pilgrimage town like Rishikesh (my home town), where people from all over the country and from all walks of life came, especially during the summer, it was a common sight of (mostly younger) men walking with transistor radios, a scene just like the Boom boxes blaring music from roadside kerbs in cities across the US in the 80's.

Wow Didi, what a way to start my day. Thanks for your PM.

Emergence of Hindi movie song

Late 30's And then it happened. Ram Daryani, a visionary financier, brought a 20 year old tabla player from Calcutta to work with the Sagar Movietone orchestra. It is to the credit of composer Ashok Ghosh that he took young Anil Biswas under his tutelage, and further, gave him enough freedom to create the first real orchestra for a Hindi movie song. In parallel, the Himansu Rai-Devika Rani team launched Bombay Talkie, hired the orchestra-minded Saraswati Devi as their composer, and further strengthened the foundation of a Western outlook, however simplistic it might have been at that time. The groundwork was launched for the Hindi movie song.

The first few songs to hit the nation as a whole may well have been from ACHHUT KANYAA and some contemporary Sagar Movietone productions. The time was 1935-36, and if this is where it started, we might have a candidate here for bringing in the Golden Age.

In the meantime, just out of the blue, New Theatres hit a home run. They augmented their singing talent through Sehgal's voice. A Punjabi singer far away from his native ambience seemed well at home in Tollygunge, South Calcutta.

With all the busy ins and out, Bombay had its weather eye cocked on an already well-established studio out to the North somewhere. Dalsukh Panchholi was an astute businessman. What did this business-oriented Lahori know of music, anyway? Some of life's happiest events hang together by threads of serendipity. Had Panchholi not created GUL-E-BAKAAVLI (1939), Baby Noorjehan may never have become known to the world at large. Had he not hired Master Ghulam Haider to do the very traditional, staid and Punjabi music for it, the songs may never have hit the headlines. And Panchholi might never have hired Master Haider to do KHAZAANCHI in 1941, but for a string of such chance events. And where would the Hindi movie song be today without the pioneering framework provided by KHAZAANCHI? We have fast-forwarded through the latter part of the '30s here, but let us get to 1941 and KHAZAANCHI. Master Haider consciously broke away from the dull and monotonous delivery of the '30s song. It was not without pain or criticism. Every generation has had its maverick. That he was, and knowingly so. KHAZAANCHI has gone down in history as the movie that defined the very structure of the modern Hindi song, much in the style of Von Neumann who, only 5 years later, defined the essence of stored program execution. Neither the structure of the Hindi song, nor the essential sequencial program execution model have changed much or at all since their inception. In that respect, Ghulam Haider hailed the age of modern Hindi music.

To summarize the '30s, the professional scene consisted of salaried employees in a handful of movie studios the vast majority of which were brought forward through profits from the silent age. Noorjehan, Ghulam Haider,and Anil Biswas were the frontline names. Looking at the content, we must examine the constituents - the melody, the orchestration, the singing style and ability, the lyrics, and in some ways also the picturization. The dominant singers of the age were KC Dey, Pankaj Mullick, Shanta Apte, Govindrao Tembe, Ashok Kumar, Devika Rani, Surendra, Wahidan Bai and sister Jyoti, Bibbo, Manju and a few more. In a category all by himself stood the theatrical and Sufiana singer Kundanlal Sehgal. Some of his most famous songs had already been created, and he was just warming up.

More coincidence. The rapid and profitable emergence of the movie during the '30s, while remaining the sole property of a few studios, engaged the entire nation. What had started as the entertainment of the upper crust had trickled down to practically all layers of society - deep enough to threaten the legacy social outing. One such example was the Natak Mandali tradition of Maharashtra. Attendance dropped to all time lows. Mass defections occurred, both in the audience and the performers. Families whose wherewithal was the Natya Sangeet medium felt the most pain. Several went bankrupt. Alcoholism, a very natural companion of the performing arts, only aggravated the suffering. None knew this better than Dinanath Mangeshkar. Five children, a young wife, and nowhere to turn to. Once the darling of the Marathi stage, he now had trouble finding familiar faces in the business. In desperation, he accepted his oldest daughter's insistence upon finding a job for herself. In this quest, 12-year old Lata Mangeshkar was introduced to Vinayakrao Karnataki. But there was something else. She also signed up for a National Level Talent contest that had recently been labelled the KHAZAANCHI competition. The Northwestern frontier shuddered as the typhoon hit home. A Marathi-speaking winner of all things! Master Haider, the man whose runaway success had contributed the name to the contest, would stop to take notice. Seven years from the day, he would fight tooth and nail to permanently change the sound of Hindi music. Some milestone this. The writer must submit here that no matter when the Golden Era is said to begin, its life must include this landmark event of Lata Dinanath Mangeshkar winning the KHAZAANCHI competition. This voice has provided even our best composers with the motivation to produce the very best of melodies.

Thanks Barnalidi!!

Very nice article. Best is the way chronologically it has been explained.

I remember listening to Radio Ceylon regularly. They had those popular hindi movie song programs. Most were on listeners demand. Loved those programs.

Thanks for sharing Didi 😊

omg one of the best article i have come across...much needed info 👏 👏
👏 THX

Great article Didi .

Very well analyzed and systematically placed. I personally dont remember listening to hindi songs on radio, but did see some songs in a TV show called chitrahaar- which channel did it come on-DD???

Most of the songs that I listened to was what my folks liked and heard all the time and off course my rebellious bhai and his Kishor Kumar collection...😆

but thanks to IF, Retro Cafe i get to hear many old songs which had become a faint memory.

The current trend of remix...and noise...somehow I am allergic to it.

barnali ji u have opened some new threads will read it later in peace...thanks