Album:
Maa'ma Dey***1/2
Artist: Rahim Shah
"To
be absolutely honest; I have always been partial to Rahim Shah,
from the time he sang the beseeching ÔGhumÕ in 2001
to the last video of his I saw on TV: the catchy pop ditty ÔKhanum
RangiÕ. Rahim Shah does not go overboard experimenting with
his music; be it the genre or the message he tries to put across
to his listeners. But the steadiness with which he has been building
his music towards commercial viability is sincere; and that is what
is so appealing about both this artist and his work. Rahim ShahÕs
latest album MaaÕma DeyÉ (which if I am counting correctly
is his ninth) features songs in both Pashto and Urdu, a break from
the neatness with which he split his previous eight albums into
four Urdu and four Pashto albums. MaaÕma Dey plays not just
with the idea of mixing a few languages into one mix, but also the
different musical styles Rahim ShahÕs official website (www.rahimshah.com)
says he is most interested in: film, folk and pop.
However
partial, it is with some misgivings that I dive into ShahÕs
newest baby, MaaÕma Dey. The one thing I must say right off
the bat is this: I listened to 11 of the 13 tracks on this album
in one easy sitting. Without being disturbed by the kind of music
one might find too horrible to bear, or uncomfortable to the ear,
MaaÕma Dey is easy-listening music through and through. The
kind you can drive to without getting too distracted by or surf
the net while it plays in the background. Kind of like Kid Cudi
singing various mixes of ÔDay And NightÕ at you through
your radio Ð only in Urdu, Punjabi and Pashto. The title track
of the album has to be the most pleasing one in my opinion. ÔMaaÕma
DeyÕ, the song had me at ÒAssalamualekum.Ó
It opens with some unintelligible rap in English and Rahim ShahÕs
voice, as he greets his listeners with a heart-warming ÒRahim
Shah da Karachai na.Ó This is layered over with the sound
of light applause, as if people in the studio with this Pathan pop
sensation couldnÕt help but be bowled over by the musical
marvel unfolding before them. Pretty soon the claps become part
of the dhol and harmonium that dominate the arrangement of ÔMaaÕma
DeyÕ. The song itself is about a maama (maternal uncle) getting
married and his nephews wishing him health, wealth and happiness.
And though I am not familiar with the Pashto language at all and
in fact had to convince the only Pashto-speaking man I know to even
understand the little bit I could - I hold my first opinion of ÔMaaÕma
DeyÕ as the truest one; it is a song that will engage you
with its tune, which belongs to the family of music you hear at
mehndis and just cannot shake out of your system for a while. Which
is exactly why the sultry sounds of a heavy orchestra in the next
track ÔBoondhÕ seem oppressive. Even the opening words
ÒMit gaye hum, sar-e-bazaar mein/ Lut gaye hum, sar-e-bazaar
mein,Ó carry strains of serious heartache within them. Though
very much in the vein of ÔGhumÕ, somehow ÔBoondhÕ
doesnÕt strike that certain chord, the one that makes you
like songs, regardless of their critical worth. At least not with
myself, ÒMein boondh boondh hua aise hi jalne ko/ Taras raha
tha mein tu tum se hi milney ko,Ó might be more someone elseÕs
cup of tea perhaps. The whole composition is very dramatic though;
very filmi, if I may. And I canÕt help but think that with
a better producer, Rahim Shah can completely harness and tame this
flair for passionate ballads that he seems to have and is keen on.
Next up is ÔOrh Dey.Õ It has this very techno, very
confused sound to it. The kind you associate with disco lights on
wagons, which were a dying breed of public transport in the Ô80s.
ÔOrh,Õ in Pashto means fire, and Rahim Shah is singing
about being surrounded by flames. The song is rather in the same
category as ÔBoondh,Õ though with a more dizzying beat.
ÔAansooÕ is a complete 180 from ÔOrh DeyÕ.
Although by now I think I am on the road to understanding Rahim
ShahÕs aspirations as a singer a little more. He loves the
folksy stuff, but I think he believes his true future lies in playback
singing. ÔAansooÕ opens with an unidentified woman
humming along to soft piano. The song is a sad one. ÒAansoowon
se mere dil ko kyun bhar dia?/ Mera sub jal gaya/ Tu ne kya kar
diya,Ó laments Rahim Shah, as the lady I wish he had named
on his album credits hums away a little shrilly in the background.
ÔAansooÕ takes me way back into the Ô90s Ð
Bollywood in the early Ô90s to be precise. Remember all those
films where Kumar Sanu and Alka Yagnik would be surprise guests
at a party who would sing a duet? And all the while that they would
sing, the hero would stare morosely at the heroine, who was with
the guy we know she should so not end up with. The point being,
Rahim Shah probably grew up watching a lot of those films, and one
cannot say the practice was one that went to waste.
ÔChanna Ve ChannaÕ sounds irritatingly familiar. So
of course I Youtube it right away. Yep, there it is, in its Pakistani
Pop and Bollywood avatar. Both videos make me half-cry/ half-laugh.
The Bollywood version has a pork-bellied Jimmy Shergill lounging
about on a chaise in the ocean while some dusky lady dances around
him. The local version is the one that had me completely flummoxed
in the year Ô07, when I saw Aaminah Haq preen away as a photographerÕs
heartÕs desire in the video. I am sad to report that the
new album version cannot hold a remixed candle to the solid beats
of the ÔChannaÕ of yore.
ÔJanjhÕ is a Punjabi number, alive with the sound of
shehnai, which one supposes is befitting as Rahim Shah is singing
about a baraat (wedding party). The music veers between an Arabic
sounding harmonica, piercing shehnai, what sounds like a single
appearance of electric guitar, and once again, rap. Why Rahim Shah?
You have a lovely voice and your music might not be to a lot of
peopleÕs taste, but to your fans, you are the best thing
since compact discs. I donÕt think you need to rely on gimmicky
English bits to make your songs more popular. The rap trend continues
in ÔJiya JiyaÕ; a pleasant enough romantic tune, upbeat
but interspersed with a woman singing in English, some Hindi pop
style English rap and a voice that sounds like Amitabh Bachchan
talking through the song.
MaaÕma Dey springs with an enthusiastic bang but ends slightly
half-heartedly. Rahim Shah gets a bit preachy on ÔHum Aik
HainÕ, which begins with verses from IqbalÕs poem
ÔLab pe aati haiÕ. Then it sort of goes into the question
ÒKya hum aik hain?Ó If it sounded like Rahim Shah
was ÔfeelingÕ the song as much as one would say he
was ÔMaaÕma DeyÕ or even ÔJiya JiyaÕ,
it might have been a success; but ÔHum Aik HainÕ is
a little flat. ÔTanhaiÕ, the last track on the album
is in the tradition of ÔGhumÕ, a heartbroken, pleading
sort of song.
Which brings me to the best bit ÔGhumÕ is reworked
and re-sung in intermittent Pashto and Urdu and while the result
isnÕt the raw emotion of the original; its nice to hear it
nonetheless. Maybe just once. MaaÕma Dey... is kind of heavy
on the whole techno thing. Rahim Shah clearly loves what he does
and perhaps should opt for someone a little more music savvy to
produce his next album. Perhaps someone like Rohail Hyatt, who lent
Rahat Fateh Ali KhanÕs, tunes in Charkha delicate layer upon
layer of sound. An effect that most brought out RFAKÕs strong
vocals and mostly folk compositions, without making either sound
cheesy or compromised.
Rahim Shah has always been a singer who entertains and while many
might shy away from MaaÕma Dey... for those of you who claim
to have an Ôeclectic tasteÕ in music, MaaÕma
Dey... might be the perfect local gem to add to your dossier of
diversity.
*****Get it NOW!
****Just get it
***Maybe maybe not
**Just download the best song
*Forget that this was made
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