Lyrics: Irshad Kamil
After listening to Sultan’s compositions, which are way too monotonous, it seems Arijit Singh’s presence (he is a phenomenal singer) could have given at least one great moment and a breath of fresh air to the tunes of this Salman Khan and Anushka Sharma starrer. Singh needs to stop apologising to Khan. The composition structures and lyrics are way too linear for any kind of creativity to find any crevice, or give that shining moment in the album. The result is that the album has nothing brilliant to offer.
Vishal Dadlani and Shekhar Ravjiani belong to two completely different schools of thought. While Ravjiani’s training is steeped in Indian classical and folk music, Dadlani, also the frontman of the remarkable electro-rock band Pentagram, is one of the finest singers and composers in the industry. Together, they’ve proved their brilliance with films such as Kahaani, Om Shanti Om and Shanghai, among others, with some experimental and eclectic tunes, but Sultan pushes them into an abyss.
The movie revolves around a female wrestler from Haryana and her trainer. It could have done with a sporty and emphatic score, the kind where Tanu Weds Manu Returns meets Chak De India, but the album opens with Baby ko bass pasand hai. Is that the best that Irshad Kamil can manage, one wonders. Percussion dominates the song with dholak, bhapang, drums and turntables segueing at various points. The number, which has nothing to offer, is likely to be a club hit, like all Salman Khan party songs are; by virtue of the fact that he’s doing his antics in them.
This is followed by Jag ghoomeya by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan (the replacement for Singh). A romantic number that seems to have walked in from the monotonous side of the ’90s.The only innovative bit in here is an interlude on an electric guitar which soon follows the strings section paired with tabla beats. It’s definitely a melody that does not strain the aural senses like the opening melody, but comes with a rambling quality.
The female version of the piece sung by Neha Bhasin is better here. The composers strip the song of most orchestration, and let Bhasin’s voice hold fort alongside a tumbi and a mandolin. The composition sounds better and shows some artistic ambition. Then comes Mika Singh’s 440 volt, which is one of the more scattered pieces on the album. Ignore it. It will offer nothing.
The most intelligent line in the album comes in the title song — Khoon mein teri mitti, mitti mein tera khoon/ Upar allah, neeche dharti, beech mein tera junoon. This is where the electric guitar riffs kick in alongside Sukhwinder Singh and Shadab Faridi’s voices, strong bass presence and some dissonant (komal) notes that give the song an interesting direction. But even this one, somewhere in the middle, begins to falter. Tuk tuk has Nooran Sisters and Dadlani join forces. Dadlani’s raps sound phenomenal here along with Jyoti and Sultana Nooran packing a punch.
A boisterous, versatile tune which is completely overpowered by overworked orchestration. A brass band opens Sachi muchi. This is followed by Mohit Chauhan and Harshdeep Kaur, an easy, breezy number with bad Haryanvi pronunciation. It still is one of the better numbers on the album.
Papon’s Bulleya, where he sings softly instead of the deep baritone we are used to, fails as a tune. The composers have combined diverse instruments with a structure-less melody. The riffs in the middle offer some respite, but can’t resurrect the song. Musically, it remains one of the most challenged and weakest scores by Vishal-Shekhar.