Sound Byte

Bavra Mann, another Mudgal number that speaks of a wandering mind off to see a dream, is the work of debut lyricist Swanand Kirkire. The dialogue writer of Chameli, Kirkire loves words and minimalism. But Pritish Nandy’s poetry recitation is intruding, so listen to the version sans Nandy.

When you reach Mann Yeh Bavra, a typical qawwali, you’re already inside the film, wondering whether Bihar’s Naxal movement is hotting up, while the qawwals totally let go. The He Sajni club mix, where folk is funked up, holds an edgy sweetness. Sarods slide into each other as a woman mourns for her lover’s return in Naa Aaye Piya. Marathi classical singer Shobha Joshi, who was previously heard in Sardari Begum, has rendered the thumri.

The music is peerless in the fact that it can be enjoyed without visual support.

Taj Mahal: An Eternal Love Story
A SWEEPING orchestra, with mourning violins and long interludes brings, back the romance of Indian classical music into Bollywood, the way only Naushad Ali can. The album opens with Apni Zulfein Mein by Hariharan, who’s the male lead in five tracks. The score also introduces composer Uttam Singh’s daughter Preeti Uttam, who has a rich, husky voice best suited for Bedouin ballads.

Three compositions inarguably prove that the 84-year-old Naushad is still going strong: Mumtaz Tujhe Dekha Jab Taj Mahal Dekha (in raag Malhar), by Hariharan and Preeti; Ishq Ki Daastan, a qawwali by Kavita Krishnamurthy and Preeti, which bring on a Teri Mehfil Mein Kismet Azma Kar (Lata-Shamshad) flashback, and Hindustani classical veteran Pandit Ajoy Chakraborthy’s Yeh Kaun Mujhe Yaad Aaya.

Lyricist Naqsh Lyallpuri’s line for the album, Phir Aaj Ki Aankho Se Guzra Hua Kal Dekha, sums up the score. The music of Taj Mahal is a glorious replay of times gone by.

So-Called Chaos, Alanis Morissette, EMI Virgin
WHEN she made a trip to India last year, the rock princess described the album as “philosophical reflections”.

Like all her albums, Morissette’s latest one is honest and disturbing (lines like How to keep smiling when you’re thinking of killing yourself). The album kicks off with a headbanging Eight Easy Steps, a surefire concert hit, and moves into the longer, slower Out Is Through—a remnant of Thank You . You’ll want to turn up the volume on Doth I Protest Too Much—true, it’s an angsty chick song, but this one’s a radio high. There’s Knees Of My Bees, a mid-tempo love ballad that opens with some sweet sitar, which Morissette wrote on a piece of tissue paper when she was out dining with her fiance Ryan Reynolds.

The softer, longer numbers like Excuses and This Grudge are dark and move into self-flagellation mode. Skip. Tune into Everything, which might just make a great unplugged number.