Tere Ishk Mein Music Review: A R Rahman delivers the standout Hindi album of the year, with minor misses

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The album starts with the title track ‘Tere Ishk Mein’, which has been performed by Arijit Singh. The lyrics for the whole album have been penned by Irshad Kamil, and it shows. Because this triumvirate hits it out of the park in the very first song of the album. Rahman takes over your mind with a beautiful composition centred around piano and violin. At first you feel that the song gives in to the crescendo almost too quickly, maybe for the purpose of shock and awe. But as the song proceeds, one realises that this wasn’t the peak, as Rahman switches gears (and the scale), forcing Arijit to deliver an outstanding finishing sector of the song.

The second track is ‘Usey Kehna’, and it starts with the vocals of Nitesh Aher, who kind of sounds like he’s mimicking Jubin Nautiyal. But soon, Aher finds his own (voice and thought), with Rahman jumping in from time to time. Like something out of Om Shanti Om, Rahman lets the violin, bass, and piano tell you a story themselves, as every shift to a minor chord makes your face twitch, in a good way. The prolific composer plays proverbial cricket with Aher, as he catches all loose balls (notes) and throws them right back to Aher for him to finish the job. You feel content with the song and its quality, and that’s when Jonita Gandhi enters the room and lifts the song with grace and poise. She takes over Rahman’s spot, and after some back and forth with Aher, the song melts and fades into the background.

I have already shared my views on Aawaara Angaara before, but the song definitely makes more sense once it is accompanied by its friends. Standing alone, the song still feels a bit too tame and like every other song. Irshad could have changed the rhyme scheme here and there, and Rahman could have switched up the composition like he did with the title track. There are a few surprises, like the percussion part in the middle of the song, and Faheem Abdullah’s vocals walk through the composition with ease.

This is the part of the album which is the literal definition of Rahman playing to his strengths. The composer has always been so open about his love of Sufism, and Deewaana Deewaana bursts into your ears like a throwback to every qawwali you have ever heard. But it’s still unique; it reminds me of Kun Faaya Kun just because of certain instruments, but it doesn’t have any correlation beyond that point. It is a beautiful composition, and it seems like Rahman liked the rock version of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s qawwali Saason Ki Mala. The tabla and harmonium look back at another member ready to join their group, and it’s the electric guitar, and Rahman channels his inner Joseph Mascarenas (had to make a Rock On reference) in the best way possible.

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The qawwali is the hardest song to let go of in the whole album, as Rahman’s various sargams sprinkled throughout the track stay with you long after listening to the song. Then comes the track Tere Zikr Mein, and the lyrics have been written like a nazm; it follows the same idea throughout. Singer Shilpa Rao doesn’t rush into the conversation; she makes her point calmly, as if she doesn’t care who agrees or not. A song about completely surrendering yourself to a loved one isn’t exactly a new idea for Bollywood, but Rahman has done well considering the amount of saturation of such songs in the genre.

Jigar Thanda feels like a song that Rahman had to make in order to ensure the album wasn’t getting too serious and profound. I am sure the movie isn’t all fire, accidents, alcoholism and violence (the trailer paints a horrifying picture). Darshan Raval could have been used for more than just a party song, but that is the job he was given this time out. The lyrics make do, the composition is catchy, and surprisingly the best part of the song is the outro.

Another disappointing collaboration is Rahman and Sukhwinder Singh on the track Ladki Jaisi. The song doesn’t know what genre it falls in, and it keeps switching between identities. Sukhwinder has always been an impressive singer, but for Rahman to use him for a song like this doesn’t make sense, especially when the rest of the album was this impressive. Can we not make an upbeat song without it sounding recycled and unnecessary?

Rahman answers this same question in the very next song, as he delivers Chinnaware with Shankar Mahadevan. A fun, upbeat track which picks a lane at the very beginning and then sticks with it throughout. Despite not being a Tamil speaker, I could enjoy the song for what it sounded like, at least on the surface level.

Now we highlight my favourite quality of Rahman while discussing the final track of the album. The final track is just a female version of the Jigar Thanda track, or that’s what it looks like on YouTube (or whatever you are using). Rahman has this remarkable quality of fitting in all his favourite genres into one single album. A film is based on an idea, and a film’s album should have songs which are reflections of that idea. Rahman will deliver you to the idea but will take a different route every time. Just like ‘Tu Bole Main Boloon’ from Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na (2008), the female version of ‘Jigar Thanda’ is a full-blown jazz track.

If you are listening to the album in the given sequence of the songs, when the final track plays, you will pick up your phone to check whether you accidentally jumped to a different album altogether. It doesn’t feel like a version which should exist in the same plane of reality as the first one, and it should have a dimension of its own. The lyrics flow better, and Shilpa Rao sounds completely in sync with every single instrument. You can successfully imagine a speakeasy jazz bar, which gives out the wrong address and passwords in order to ensure that their clientele is limited to a few people.

All in all, Rahman has given the film a lot to live up to or drag itself towards (whichever analogy fits). The album is versatile, entertaining and impressive, with a few loose strings hanging here and there. But just like your favourite sweater, which you won’t throw out because of these strings, this album should be held on to. After a flurry of clone-like boring Bollywood albums, Rahman and Kamil have a winner in their hands, no matter how well or badly the film does.