There is always this tiny voice at the back of my head when talking
about someone else's art, telling me to be very, very delicate
with it. The end consumer of any kind creative product can like
or dislike it according to personal taste but can never imagine
what the artist went through while evolving their labour of love.
Yet all references one has of their past work lays down the road
down which one will walk while trying to get to the crux of their
current work.
In other words, whether you're a sweet ghazal-loving dove, or
a cynic who can only listen to music if you're allowed to take
it apart mercilessly, you know that Shafqat Amanat Ali Khan's
vocal skills are undeniably excellent. He had won Pakistan over
with a haunting 'Sagar', trickled into his listeners' subconscious
with 'Ankhiyan' and melted hearts with 'Khamaj'. Not for a second
does one question his talent while listening to Kyun Dooriyan
(KD), Shafqat's new album - some of the choices he has made on
the album; well that's a whole different matter.
Even after Shafqat had confidently taken his voice down the solo
path, he could do no wrong. His first album, Tabeer was well-received,
even well-loved. Tabeer sounded much different from the work
he had done with Fuzon as it was mostly bathed in a devotional
light. Save for 'Kheriyan De Naal', which is both devotional
but has its roots in romantic folklore, Tabeer dabbled in bringing
together the mature pop sound Shafqat seems to favour with classical;
as well as experimenting with sound one might not expect to hear
on a Shafqat Amanat Ali album.
Kyun Dooriyan is a ballad broken down by seconds of silence.
The sound is far more organic than anything we heard from him
in his Fuzon days, or even in the more cautiously experimental
Tabeer. It might not be pleasing to every ear that expects a
certain kind of music from Shafqat, but given a chance, the songs
on KD are the kind that will wrap themselves around you and then
just grow. At the same time one might notice a slight tendency
in KD to be a crowd pleaser - it has that hint of Bollywood,
often subtle, sometimes cheerfully bringing to mind the image
of Shah Rukh Khan driving on a sunlit open road as the song plays
in the back.
The title track, 'Kyun Dooriyan' is one of the most freely undulating
ones on the album, as far as the tune is concerned. It has all
the makings of what could fast become a very popular song, but
that doesn't mean that it isn't as measured as one has come to
expect any Shafqat song to be. 'Kyun Dooriyan' unabashedly shows
off Shafqat's vocal range from mellow to melancholy. It is a
safe song with a safe tune…but who ever said safe was
a bad place to be?
'Kya Haal Sunawan' is what follows 'Kyun Dooriyan', where the
latter is a question laid to his beloved, 'Kya Haal Sunawan'
is simply conceding. It is soft and melodic, Shafqat's voice
flows effortlessly over the words which are not the pleas of
a heartbroken man, but simply those of one who has accepted he
feels a certain way about somebody. It is pleasing to the yeas,
both in terms of tune and the way it has been sung - but there
are backing vocals in the chorus which make 'Kya Haal Sunawan'
sound like a Bollywood song remixed by one of India's 'pop' acts.
While the importance of commercial success is not lost on me,
one can't help but think there has to be a happy compromise between
making music that show off one's music intelligence while being
listener friendly - without losing that intelligence.
"Jaayein kahan, tera darr chor ke", begins the next song. My belief
that KD is a narrative is solidified further. Each song is leading into the
next, each one an admission of love. And while Shafqat does the whole devotional
music thing quite well, one would just like to point out that he has a voice,
a manner to his singing that is just so suited to music that is more personal.
Even if Shafqat one day decides to focus more on the spiritual branch of music,
he would lend his work a whole new dimension by working with lyrics he wrote
himself.
'Jaayein Kahan' is a bit on the pop-rock side, with lightly heavier
guitar riffs slicing through the generally smooth music. The
mood is yet again one of surrendering to the force or habit of
love. Three songs on, KD is not as intense as 'Sagar', nor as
ethereal as 'Khamaj' but it is that much more real, if only for
the singular sentiment that seems to be running though each song,
progressing just a bit each time into something that seems straight
from the singer's heart. 'Jaayein Kahan' melts into the silence
that gives way to 'Mahiya'.
'Mahiya' is downright beautiful. Be it the words adorning the
music, the gently sighing flute, the catch in Shafqat's voice
at points - this is one song that comes together completely in
the album. Even the backing vocals don't make 'Mahiya' seem ripe
for a music video featuring Katrina Kaif frolicking on ice.
However, this reverie of perfection is slightly jarred as 'Naukar
Tere', a devotional song pulls through with Shafqat's voice straining
dhol, flute and percussions. The jarring gives way to a jolt
with 'Naal Naal', a number reminiscent of the mood that Fuzon's
'Ankhiyan' balanced itself on. Slightly rough, a little edgy,
but flatly charmless. And if that were a minor jolt, 'Saada Dil',
a synthetic pop number with mundane lyrics shatters almost everything
the first four songs of KD create. So much for the narrative
theory. Or perhaps this is comic relief? After all, anything
that brings forth the memory of rookie music that played on Music
Channel Charts back in the day has to be a joke.
There is quick redemption though. 'Paharhi' subtly links back
with the vein running through the album. The quiet aching of
love, shall we call it? One sees KD being a huge hit with those
who like their love songs classy. And it doesn't hurt if the
voice singing those songs knows exactly what it's doing. Except
for on the dismal 'Saada Dil' in which it is lost behind a mass
of electronic sounds randomly thrown together.
'Tu Hi Sanam' is a ballad made exclusively for a future film,
furnished with the pleasant acoustic guitars, the building up
to an interesting crescendo and sloping back to temperate tones
that help elevate songs to 'soundtrack of a life' status. It
is definitely more hopeful sounding than the rest of the songs
on the album - one can easily envision this being the anthem
of young love.
'Wo Jaanta Hai' has a message. One would like to think this says
enough - however, the song has instrumental value that a lot
of the other songs don't. It incorporates a blend of keys, string
and voice that wind themselves around each other, making a tight
composition.
To be fair, KD is a tight production all over, and even if one
is to dismiss one's judgment of the songs that didn't strike
a chord as personal opinion, then save for 'Saada Dil', the others
are quite decent. Kyun Dooriyan makes for quietly pleasant listen,
the kind of CD you'd always want in your car for those contemplative
times when the music you listen to can mesh with you easily without
being intrusive. And isn't that what the best kind of art is
about? Creeping up on you unexpectedly, whether you agree with
it or not.