No more ‘fusion’ or ‘tributes’, please

0
185
  • Recycling of music in the name of reinvention needs to stop

The widespread public disapproval that manifested itself against the Coke Studio version of Ko ko korina was long awaited, although not necessarily for the reason most cited, that is: ‘desecration’ of a ‘classic’. There are many definitions of a ‘classic’ of course, but in the author’s opinion the original was an ordinary song at best – certainly not Sohail Rana’s (nor Masroor Anwar’s) best effort. Contrast it with Akele na jaana (for example) from the same film, and the former clearly is vastly inferior both in terms of melody and the quality of lyrics. The overwhelming condemnation and all those memes making fun of the song are welcome nevertheless for another reason.

Before going into that however, it’s important to get something out of the way. It would be unfair to go to the other extreme as well, which some feminists have chosen to do: They have attacked the original (in order to shift the blame from Momina Mustehsan – who is allegedly a thorn in the side of the enemies of feminism) by pointing out how badly it fared in terms of politically correctness (objectification of women, etc). Well, it was a film song that introduced a happy go lucky character: a standard piece of screenplay in Pakistani and Indian films, where the hero is shown as a handsome ladies’ man before being struck by true love or TB (whichever comes first). In fact, if anything, the alleged political incorrectness (considering the enlightened 2018) should have been all the more reason not to recycle the song in the first place – especially by somebody like Mustehsan.

Whatever the merits and demerits of the Armaan song (and that may be to a large extent a matter of personal tastes and preferences), it was an original. The lure of easy fame and success is apparently too much to resist for our musicians. The malady is a familiar one: the unwillingness to take the inevitable risk involved in creating something new, and therefore the tendency to recycle tried and tested tunes – a sort of cannibalism, in a manner of speaking. This becomes all the more deplorable and cynical when gimmickry is passed off as excellence and creativity, and the whole thing is packaged as some sort of service to the music industry. This has usually worked too. Before Ko ko korina that is.

Interestingly, this wasn’t the first Ko ko korina cover: Alamgir had ‘revived’ it many years ago. (Or was it a ‘tribute’ to Ahmed Rushdi?) And herein lies the problem: Not just budding musicians, but accomplished and well-known ones have been guilty of it. Not only have we had countless versions of Noor Jahan songs from dozens of Noor-Jahan-wannabes over the years, we have had established celebrities doing essentially the same thing: Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, for example, is hell bent on shamelessly recycling everything sung by the great Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. And then we have all those in between: the Ali Haiders, the Shazia Manzoors, the Ali Sethis. Ali Haider is an especially interesting one: he won fame and acclaim with his original work but later (for some odd reason) he felt recycling was the way to go.

There was a time when masses didn’t have access to old music – when there was an excuse for reviving those songs. This was done by the likes of Shoaib Mansoor (in Silver Jubilee) here, and later by Gulshan Kumar in India

There was a time when masses didn’t have access to old music – when there was an excuse for reviving those songs. This was done by the likes of Shoaib Mansoor (in Silver Jubilee) here, and later by Gulshan Kumar in India. But that is outdated now by at least two decades, if not more. Neither is there any novelty in ‘technology’ any more. The horrible jhankaar era is thankfully over too, hopefully never to return. Music from the bygone eras is all available in the original on YouTube – often along with numerous covers by karaoke singers. There’s absolutely no need to add even more versions, even if the exercise is undertaken in the guise of revival, reinvention, remixing, fusion, paying tribute, or some other noble euphemism for essentially recycling old songs. Especially if it’s done amid expectations of kudos on helping the cause of music. If somebody has a spark of creativity, he should go ahead and make his own music; and, in the process, take the associated risk like the artistes of the past did. Paying tributes to past performers needs to stop immediately. The best tribute one can give to them is to leave their creations alone.

The only legitimate place for singing old songs is the singing competition stage. The same goes for folk songs, which – while it’s true that they belong to us all – have mostly been done to death, and many of them need to be immediately put out of their misery. The mere sound of Lal meri patt or Ballay Ballay (for example) has the power to make even the most harmless and sensitive of souls to momentarily contemplate a career in crime.

If it ends up discouraging musicians from recycling old songs with impunity and making them do original work instead, the public outrage against Ko ko korina will have been the best thing to happen to the music landscape of the country in a long, long time. In that case, we will all be infinitely indebted to Mustehsan and Ahad Raza Mir. For our music has long been in danger from our own musicians. Cannibalism (of any sort) can never be a good thing: nothing but stagnation and decay can come out of it.