The theory of. well. some things: Music

Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Phir kuch iss dil ko beqarari hai….Seena zoya-e-zakhm-e-kari hai.

I wretchedly mourn the latest tragedy in the air, precious lives lost and the complete destruction of my country’s once finest institution – PIA. May Allah give strength to those left behind for theirs is the toughest trial – to bear, collect, reconstruct and prosper against all odds. Not for the fainthearted is Sabr-e-Jameel.

But I mourn more. As I sit here listening to “O Sanama” for the nth time, the deepest sorrow grips my heart and the tears flow with abandon. I mourn the death of perhaps my last connection to youthful, romantic times – Junaid Jamshed. I could not imagine that the passing, no matter how tragic, of a man whose “conversion” I never fully reconciled with, whose sometimes thoughtless televangelism exasperated me, who somehow was no more Uncle Jamshed Akbar’s son as I knew him nor the handsome young lead singer of Vital Signs as all of us knew him, could evoke such deep melancholy in me. But here I am, feeling cheated and affronted that JJ was taken from us in the prime of his life.

I needed more time to digest his transformation, I wanted to confront him some day and ask what drove him to make the driving remark, I wish he knew that “O Sanama” reminds me of Razi, that I believe “Multazim pe Dua” was his heart’s voice, that his “Qaseeda” is the most heart touching of all, that I beam with pride when I see a J. shop anywhere in the world, that his phenomenal accomplishments are too many to encompass in a short note. Now that I have taken some time to think through Junaid’s extraordinary life, I am overwhelmed by all that he achieved at such a young age. How much more could he have done were he given some more time. Damn PIA!

Yes yes, I know, JJ would say that this is Allah’s choice and he goes a grateful, humble “Ashiq e Rasool”. Regardless, someone somewhere has GOT to ask the obvious question; why are compromised flying machines with questionable maintenance so often the carriers to such destiny?
 
For the past several years I, like most Pakistanis, have been preoccupied with his transformed avatar, the religious evangelist. Whether on this side of it or that, we have had much to say about what we love or hate about JJ. One thing has never diminished in his life; the following. Handsome young musician, gifted and business savvy designer, imposing and opinionated televangelist – he has had us eating out of his hands one way or the other.

Along the way, we seem to have put his original music aside, which is regretful. He probably preferred this, certainly he seemed happy with his newly acquired audience, equally devoted to him as were the earlier lot whom he abandoned. I cannot imagine a Pakistani whose life events are not connected with one or other of JJ’s songs. Memories come flooding back, of happier times with “Aitbaar” playing on repeat as we drove along the motorway, of full throated “Dil Dil” chorus with little Muns and Mur, of “Amreeka ke na Japan ke…Hum to hain deewane Multan ke” becoming a slogan of sorts, of “Tumhara Aur Mera Naam” being the original breakup song, and – for me, most of all – “Teri tasveerien, teri tehreerein…Ghar mein mere phaila hua hai yehi samaan” that transcribed my broken heart. Here come the tears again.

As I sit here, now moving on to “Ilahi Teri Chaukhat Par” and “Mere Dil Badal Dai” - JJ’s life-songs, I am grateful for the appreciation I feel for these gems equally as much as I did his earlier music. Indeed Allah was generous with this golden child for granting him the opportunity to remain connected with his beloved music despite the choice he made to abandon a particular kind. JJ was ubiquitous; TV, social media, designer clothing, accessories. But as I write this fangirl memoriam, all his other personas recede into the background and I recall only the Junaid of my youth, the PAF brat whom the Air Force was so proud of, who was king of our music world and whose songs Razi, our children and I loved. This is how I will always remember him – guitar in hand, brown eyes sparkling, tall and handsome, soft voice urging me along “Kyun na chunein woh raasta…Jiss per nahin koi gaya”. How many of us he inspired to take the path less travelled!

Go with Allah JJ. There was much I disagreed with you on, but there was more I appreciated about you, and yet more I should have given you credit for. I am grateful for the music you gave us as well as the spiritual lessons you so earnestly and expectantly delivered. More than your words, the pathos in your voice convinced me that you were Ashiq e Rasool, and I pray that you may be received with love by the one whom you adored.

In this world, the transitory one, I hold your words to my heart, with tears; “Aitbaar bhi aa hi jaey ga, Milo to sahi….Raasta koi mil hi jaey ga, Chalo to sahi”.

Keeping the faith.

This is the final piece on Coke Studio Pakistan, Season 9. (Note to self: Never listen to Muns when she conspires for another listicle – let her try the exhausting task herself!)

A few favorites came together recently in Dubai and I was the idiot travelling yet again so missed the event. Strings and Meesha sang for SKMH and the desi crowd, Pakistanis and Indians alike, are raving about it.

Consolation related to SKMH is easy. Every time I miss a fund raiser in my neck of the woods I donate anyway, and every time the stinky PMLN media cell tries to trash SKMH, I donate yet again. Plenty of dirhams have gone out lately to the cause! Thank you PMLN creepia cell for keeping my money honest and unwittingly strengthening what you aim to destroy. In your own prophetic words… “Alhamdulillah”.

As for Strings and Meesha, one of these days I shall catch Meesha in person and bless her, as a working woman should, for her effort to put cracks in the glass ceiling of women in music. Oh dear, that sounds so Hillary. I’m sure Meesha will fare better though, her spirit is pure and she never stole an election from Bernie.

In the meantime, as another favorite band once said “Thank you for the music, for bringing it to me”.

The X Factor

1. Mohsin “DJ” Haider Abbas: ‘Nuf said. He will emerge as an all rounder soon. Needs a grooming guide, although(already doing rather well with the skin whitening treatment…amazing in’it?. I consider him in the Ali Zafar/Fawad Khan league.

2. Ali Sethi: Icecream, smooth and satisfying. He will progress because he not only has talent but perseverance to learn.

3. Meesha Shafi: God’s special, gifted creature. She reigns as queen of Pakistani pop rock.

4. Shuja Haider: What a ridiculously talented songwriter and composer. I do wish, though, that composers should stop short of singing. There are better voices that would do Shuja’s extraordinary compositions full justice.

If wishes were horses….their names would be Inclusion and Diversity

• It is heartening to experience the many religious shades of Pakistan’s green and white. The love of music in churches, mandirs and gurdwaras is represented by some artistes and I hope that, along with Islamic kalam, CS will incorporate hymns, bhajans and other religious pieces as well. Kabir’s dohay, Guru Nanak’s writings are sometimes represented; more can be.

• If one were to define Pakistan against a singular context, it would have to be Sufism. It is the thread that links people who speak different languages, follow different faiths, exist in separate economic and political realms. But I wish that CS would stop limiting Sufism to Bhulleh Shah alone. He is supreme, no doubt, and it is to the credit of contemporary musicians that his kalam remains fresh amongst the young, but there are so many others. One can start with Bhitai and end at Rehman Baba.

• The same goes for languages. Almost half of Season 9 is Punjabi, and a lot of the previous seasons as well. A peppering of Sindhi, Pushto, Rajasthani is not sufficient. That one country boasts languages that are not only spoken differently but often also written so is fascinating. That each language carries hundreds of dialects is absolutely staggering. We haven’t heard enough in Pahari, or Darri, Hindko or Makrani, or English for that matter.

• I am reminded of my age when I find myself humming old Pakistani film favorites, from an era when masters like Baba Chishti, Khawaja Khursheed Anwar, Sohail Rana, Qateel Shifai, Rashid Attrey, Khawaja Pervaiz wrote and composed. Every number was a refined gem, to be remembered forever. How interesting it would be to have a full season of Pakistani filmi music, refreshed….re-covered…reinvented. Strings have Anwar Maqsood’s full attention, an eye witness of and participant in our cinematic history; his input would be so valuable.

• An experiment to move a little to the left of pop and political correctness would be interesting. Risky, ofcourse, but CS has a diehard following which will neither falter nor disappoint. One need not become defiant, but one must at least speak; “Bol ke lab…” alongside “Dasht e Tanhai”. How about Strings’ own intoxicatingly hope-inducing “Mein to Dekhoon ga”? Be courageous, take a chance on us.

• It seems that the alternate pop scene is thriving and young Pakistanis are churning out creative pieces in all genres; hard rock, rap, jazz….covers of popular English numbers. Why have we never had an English production? Why no rap, especially when so many good rap artists are showing great work? One of them could be the next international star.

• Is it just me or do you notice a lack of girl power? The great lady Abida who is more equal than others and her worthy follower Sanam are the power duo, with Meesha steadily making a place for herself. Naseebo, unfortunately, let herself be under-utilized, and the rest exist thankfully but deliver mediocrity. Why are there no female directors either? Generations of women have been held back due to misguided societal norms. Now, give the women a chance.

• Where are the children? If CS would go looking for them, I am sure they will be found in every household, in every strata of society. Music is to the soul what food is to life; teach this to the children early. Be the pied piper; gather the children.

• And finally, it is now quite clear that Amn ki Asha has, inevitably, deteriorated into Amn ka Tamasha, and there is little the Pakistani Government will do about it since their lips are sealed and not “Azad” at all. There is much that Pakistan and India have to haggle over, but they love our music equally as much as we love their movies. These are love affairs divined in heaven and not easily unraveled. Diplomacy runs along parallel tracks, as Iqbal said “Jiss se jigar e lala mein thandak ho woh shabnam….Daryaon ke dil jiss se dehel jaein woh toofan”. Let the Army handle the latter, let music be the food for the former. Take the higher moral ground and invite Indian artistes to participate in CS. Let Ali sing with Shreya, let Fawad rap with…err…does India have anyone to match Fawad? Governments never heal wounds, they cause them. People never cause them, they always heal them.

Music is sustenance. It lifts the spirit and cleanses the soul. It drives away demons and brings comfort…except when one must critique it! Then, it can be a guilt-inducing, taxing chore.

This has not been easy. Studying Season 9 was time consuming and made me realize that I am near illiterate about music. On the one hand I am sobered, on the other I am awed by the herculean task that each production is. It requires passion and commitment, inherent talent and honed skill, patience and collaboration. In the end, one must immerse oneself wholly in the creative process and hope to emerge with something fulfilling and inspiring. Sometimes, one is gifted with a matchless piece; other times, one may achieve nothing. Such persistence and faith is profound.

No wonder musicians are some of the most peaceful people on earth. They have to be to realize their musical potential, to create something prolific and long lasting.

Thus, the comments below are with utmost respect for each member of the Coke Studio team. To us, it’s a few minutes’ listen, a nod or a dismissal, and on to the next. To them, each number is a labor of love, painstakingly brought to life. For their effort, we are grateful.

The Productions

Here is my take on each number with some comments on why and who. Key pillars are artiste, director and arrangement, with some lines on other, unique differentiators if any.

I wanted to address the fourth pillar, the songwriter, as well but realized it would be a futile exercise. It would be irreverent to comment on Bhulleh Shah, Amir Khusro, Muzaffar Warsi or Saeed Gilani, even Javed Akhtar and Sabir Zafar, which leaves behind only Mohsin Abbas Haider and Shuja Haider who are both quite brilliant. The rest are ordinary experiments, thus proving my point that there must be selective inclusion of (not just experimentation with) original lyrics, perhaps a ghazal or a geet. Remember the magic of “Bewajaa”?

The Spectacular

1. Aaqa: This reaffirmation of our collective gratitude is tops. Abida’s is imposing, unfaltering rendition and Shuja’s heartfelt lyrics and composition to refresh an oft-repeated “shukr” is on point; as he says in the BTS “Yeh line yaad to hai lekin kaheen kho gaee hai..Ise dobara logon ke dilon mein zinda karna hai”. Ali holds his own against Abida. He is mellifluous, pitch and diction perfect, unerring. His “riaz” must be intense and it shows. Aaqa is Aaqa all the way.

2. Uddi Ja: I would rate this highest but for the excellence of Aaqa. DJ’s Faisalabadi roots show and Jaffer does justice to his creation. Mohsin’s voice is sublime and his lyrics deep for someone so young. Makes me wonder about the obstacles of his journey; I would love to learn more about the struggles he mentions in the BTS. What a find!

3. Aaya Laariye: It’s enough to experience Meesha the goddess of pop who single-handedly tips the scales in favour of women artistes (otherwise still struggling and challenged), but Shuja has brought an old memory to life with freshness. Shehnai and dholak to the accompaniment of clapping, shrieking backup vocals brought a giggle. Naeem cannot be faulted, he’s very dependable. Shuja excels with the hookup of two beloved Punjabi numbers. Who thought “Jeeja” would become a sexy word! Definitely a shaadi favorite. As Naeem says in the BTS “outclass”.

4. Paar Chana De: One cannot go wrong with this one, the subject grasps and holds. Like many of us, Noori seems to have grown up with it and the love shows. Shilpa’s strong rendition and the strings section depicting longing, urgency and danger are winners. Welcoming comments from Shilpa in BTS…hopefully she has taken away good vibes from Lahore and Karachi.

5. Bholay Bhalley Saiyyan; More of this – departure from the safe – please! Put anything in Meesha’s hands and she can transform it. Shani’s idea to use the sitar for an eclectic, almost naughty number is fun. Meesha is a composite, a package stuffed full of “celebrity”. What other BTS features make-up and outfits, and so appropo for Meesha!

6. Alaa Baali; A stronger female singer would’ve completed the trick. Nirmal did her best but she needs coaching and experience. Jabar, the Pakistani Sukhwinder, nailed it for both of them. Great experiment by Shiraz to bring together Arabic, Persian and local music. Backup vocals’ spot on, their high notes the high points.

7. Aa Ja Re Morey Saiyyan; Original, new lyrics are always refreshing. Noori’s writing talent is surprising, as is their versatility with composition. Zeb Bangash is predictable but successfully so (whatever happened to Haniya?).

8. Dilruba Na Raazi; Just for his Pushto rendition Faakhir deserves kudos. Zeb should try something different before her dependable good becomes boring.

9. Tu Kuja Man Kuja: Shiraz’s talent transcends in this, as does Rafaqat’s. Reliance, yet again, on timeless, durable lines is frustrating but then one forgives simply because the message is uplifting and the number so well composed.

The Fabulous

10. Shamaan Pe Gaiyyan: Kashif made me cry, perhaps because the message hits too close to home. Shiraz’s strong foundation in melody is at play and he succeeds in fusing two well loved songs well. Rachel must be commended for catching Punjabi words better than many Punjabi singers, and her high notes are surprising. I wonder what Madam would think of the treatment of her last recorded song?

11. Lagi Bina/Chal Mele Noon Challiye: Nothing can go wrong when Sanam and Saaein sing Guru Nanak’s kalam. Jaffer brought the two numbers together well. This is a good example of blending two different pieces together…some others should learn from this. But it’s Sanam all the way with her remarkable range.

12. Khaki Banda: Once again this is Shuja’s show. Umair is good, but Ahmed reminds again that he is a genuinely talented but utterly disinterested singer. His lack of effort and enthusiasm is palpable. Khaki Banda would have made greater impact if it had more original lines…so much more to say about the arrogance of the human race.

13. Meri Meri: With apologies to my saint Bhulleh Shah, if I hear him sung one more time I shall disconnect. Is there no curiosity to seek out other, equally powerful kalam? Rizwan is good but more noticeable for his looks than his singing, Sara is ordinary, Shani’s Irish bluesy blend is creative and welcome. Please…enough with Bhulleya!

14. Jaaney Na Tu: Ali Khan as singer and songwriter is a find, and Jaffer has handled the package sensitively. It’s a good example of fresh lyrics with offbeat treatment.

15. Dil Kamla: A good effort although relying yet again on power that old favorites carry. Nevertheless, the fusion of old and new works seamlessly. Faakhir has done exceptionally well as a singer and quite well as a director in this case, using the strings section and backup vocals well. Natasha delivers confidently without making a serious mark.

The Adequate

16. Maula e Kull: I dare to say this. Abida’s composition of “Hyderi-am Qalandar-am” is powerful, but the overall number is just more Abida, nothing additional. Even she must be tired of same same. Maybe if she is used for a ghazal (case in point: Jab se Tu Ne and Woh Hamsafar) we will sit up and take notice.

17. Sasu Maangey: I’m a Naseebo fan. She is such a talented artiste, but sadly often misused as in this case. It seems no one coached her nor helped her do this better. Umair sounds as if this is only his song. Redemption comes from backup vocals, the mandolin, the bouquet of rhythm by Shiraz.

18. Balliye/Laung Gawacha: I nearly put Haroon in the X factor list until I found many others are equally promising. Haroon is the best in this number, but Noori’s disjointed fusion does not impress and QB’s excellent delivery does not redeem. Maybe I’m missing a trick, perhaps a commonality of raag…I don’t know, but I couldn’t connect to this one at all.

19. Jhalliya: We have GOT to give Bhulleh Shah a rest! I give greater credit to Faakhir for the arrangement and the choice of Masuma amongst the three singers, than I would for sticking to safe zone with Bhulleya. Javed is always good, but – well, this is just too safe.

20. O Re: I’m having trouble understanding this. One of the Alis, the screaming one, thinks screaming through every song is sufficient. He’s adorable, talented much, one heck of a guitar player and – ok – he screams “in sur”…but I still don’t connect. There is little by Noori I don’t love, but this eludes me.

21. Sab Jag Soye: Besides “Gaey gi Dunya Geet Merey” this is Madam’s most abiding memory. Purist that I am, the offbeat treatment does not sit well. I appreciate that it experiments but the pieces put together are disjointed and don’t connect. QB is her dependable self, but overall an ordinary number.

22. Tera Woh Pyar (Nawaazishen): What a melodious piece, so well arranged by Shuja, and how sadly ruined by Momina that it could not be redeemed by Asim. Damia, Nirmal, Sara, Natasha – anyone of them would’ve added the necessary element. QB? A whole other level…if only…

23. Nimma Nimma: Another one to get teary eyed with. Clearly Shani was affected by the subject matter too, as he states in the BTS. It’s an ordinary number made special because of Maa and the pain of losing her. I cried.

24. Tu Hi Tu: Ok, good enough..Mehwish wanted to try her hand at this and fared well enough for an actor-singer. But it’s nothing to write home about, not of Shiraz quality.

25. Sadaa: It’s impossible to put Mast Qalandar with Rahat and find fault. There is little novelty in it, but if only for the love of Mast Qalandar and Rahat, this is fabulous. Rahat’s songs seem to be similar, undistinguishable…a dangerous place to be for a popular artiste.

26. Main Raasta: Good idea to encourage young artistes to write their own lyrics, but better results expected. I’m sure youngsters will enjoy the rock element and I suppose it’s easier to go with ridiculous lines like “Mein tum se kehti hoon….kehta hoon” than really digging in for better stuff.

But Why!?

27. Afreen Afreen: Kill me for rating this poorly when the world is flipping over Momina’s smile, the soft tempo, and Rahat who never falters in “sur” and “taal”. But the fact is, if you take away Javed’s lyrics and Nusrat’s composition, whatever remains doesn’t add much. Momina was ordinary, Rahat seemed preoccupied, Faakhir arranged well but it was not enough. Some things are best left untouched.

28. Anokha Ladla: Faakhir obviously lives out of the box, but he is too ambitious for his talent since he completely trashed this complex, delicate composition. Damia seems to agree and sounds unconvincing, and Basit, although adequate, could not redeem it. As I said, some things are best left untouched.

Larger than life…dare not rate

1. Rang: I’ve heard better versions by many gharanas, by Rahat and Amjad and my favorite, Farid Ayaz and Abu Mohammad. I suppose it is essential to cut a piece down due to time constraint, but Rang should never be subjected to this. Nevertheless, Rang in any form of any length is divine and this time especially so due to Amjad’s sad passing.

2. Man Kunto Maula: To a purist, the new element jarred to begin with, then lent itself to the message. Javed entered with a perfect delivery. Like Rang, one should just leave this master Manqabat alone, but in any form with whatever attachment, it remains beloved.

3. Ae Rah e Haq ke Shaheedo: No matter what is done to this, it will never fail to pull at the heart strings and draw tears. An excellent concept to pay homage not just to the Armed Forces but countless others who continue to lose their lives to the war on terror.

As fizzy drinks go, the only one I ever stocked was “hara hara” Pakola, asinine patriotism clouding my judgment despite my determined advocacy against soda pops. Thankfully for the nation’s health although sadly for the Pakistani brand, Pakola is now available only in limited production thus cleansing my refrigerator of fizzy hazards altogether. My children often express nostalgic disappointment over the absence of fizzies in the fridge. In return, I remind them of my maternal generosity towards our collective indulgence, the equally destructive but infinitely more delightful Rooh Afza, presently and perpetually ensconced in our fridge in a befittingly desi, plastic jug.

I never drink Coke nor its alluring soda siblings, but for two purely personal reasons I can never disparage them either.

First, because Rizwanullah Khan, bearer of a beloved name and GM of Coca Cola Pakistan, is a gracious human being whose generous friendship I cherish and whose astute professionalism, which has taken Coca Cola Pakistan to extraordinary success despite formidable competition, I respect. Second, because I am an intrepid Coke Studio Pakistan fan and resoundingly declare that, even if it occasionally stumbles into mediocrity, ours is better than everyone else’s. Yes, I am given to theatrics while plugging brand Pakistan. Hang me!

Amidst the acid smog of negativity surrounding our image (some of it deserved, certainly not all), a few swashbucklers are making a valiant attempt to cleanse the air and restore national spirit and pride. The spectrum boasts the awesome – Edhi, Shaukat Khanum, The Aga Khan Foundation, SUIT; the sustainables poised to scale –Shan, Bareeze, Naseeb Networks, Bundoo Khan, Nayatel, Govt of KPK(?); and the quirky and audacious – Khaadi, Sattar Buksh, Patari.pk, Blood Orange. I’ve been too selective; in fact the rainbow carries a multitude of colors which will shine bright once the smog lifts.

Nestled smugly amongst these adorables is the “Sound of the Nation”, Coke Studio Pakistan. That it is born of an international brand is coincidental; that it embodies a quintessentially Pakistani spirit is important. Then, as a brain child of the gifted Rohail Hyatt, and now, in the creative hands of the incredible musical duo Strings, we have seen it evolve, mature and struggle to remain relevant to an audience which is multi-faceted and complex, engaged and appreciative but acutely discerning and critical. Whether it inspires or disappoints, the Coke Studio Pakistan phenomenon becomes yet more immense with each season, and the love affair between the nation and its favorite music show thrives.

For me, the magic springs from two notable aspects; a perceptive understanding of what defines Pakistan – our musical heritage – and a bold celebration of it through offbeat execution. For too long we have allowed our identity to be hijacked, sometimes by well-meaning but ill-informed pretenders and at other times by evil predators, and often the first casualty has been our music. But here’s what I know. Music is to Pakistan what water is to health, what air is to breath, what DNA is to life; if one is extinct, the other cannot exist. So, try as they might, misguided pundits who propose to redefine us have not been able to vanquish our music, and amongst many resilient reasons is Coke Studio Pakistan which stubbornly returns, season after season, with our nation’s signature style; the spiritual, earthy and traditional fused with the funky, eclectic and contemporary.

This is not to say that my favorite music show does not, sometimes, disappoint. Rohail’s extreme experiments were enchanting but eventually tested our tolerance so, as often happens with gifted people, his relevance wore out. In return, we lucked out with the equally gifted Strings but their refusal to court risk and be adventurous can be tiresome. Regardless, the anticipation with which the nation awaits every new season and the hyper-response the launch evokes reaffirms the fact that Coke Studio Pakistan is not just the sound of the nation but its very heartbeat.

Thus, in the practice of listicles (memory-prompt: my FB moderator-cum-blogging advisor, Muns the Persistent, tells me these draw high ratings), I shall now attempt to rate Season 9 of Coke Studio Pakistan. Many such listicles exist, you say? Yes, they do but I bet none as comprehensive as the one you are about to experience. With profound thought and immense care I have charted a category-element matrix for complex evaluation. Phew! If I put this much work into real work, I’d have no time to do this nonsense.

Here are the basic criteria against which I have rated each Season 9 production. And oh, in case you missed the bilingual pun – Mausam e Nau….Season 9….get it!?

1. 6 episodes, plus the opening collage and the season finale, have been evaluated. I love the music but I tell you, it will be a while before I ear-phone myself to Coke Studio again. Naseebo screams in my ear and Ali Azmat appears in my dreams – scary shit!

2. An impressive 30 songs comprise the episodes. I didn’t realize there were so many, did you? Each has been assessed for multiple aspects. It was not difficult to rate some of these low, they deserved it. But listening to the best compete for the top slots (in my head, silly!) was quite stressful.

3. 42 incredible singers, all brilliant (well, nearly all) have been critiqued. Such pretention on my part as I am as pseudo as can be in my understanding of music. I beg forgiveness of the gods of melody.

4. An interesting twist in Season 9 was the introduction of directors, some of whom doubled as singers, or vice versa. Thankfully there were only 6 and since their styles were fairly distinct it was less challenging to critique them.

5. Arrangement, more than composition, captures my interest. So, the backup vocals, the house band and the strings section are given more than just honorable mention. Other than Meesha Shafi (she is goddess!), the screaming, yod’ling, clapping, rocking Shahab Hussain remains my favorite.

6. I have nothing to say about BTSs. They bore me. But once again, like an advisory Tinkerbell of blogging, Muns pops up on email “but you must say something about them, kids love them. Write your mental aga Ma, not your physical age!” Well, that makes me her daughter, Freaky Friday style. Scary shit again but, ok, you will find some BTS comments.

7. In terms of rating criteria, I have looked for something unique in each number; did the producers step out of safe zone and experiment, was the singer able to “own” it, nail it even though some mega-god has owned it for 800 years, were new lyrics tried and did they work (remember “Bewajaa”? Nabeel Shaukat to die for!), did the new kid on the block match the veteran, is someone a multi-faceted, once in a very long time talent discovery (someone is!), did we miss Atif Aslam and Ali Zafar yet again, why do the boys leave a mark and the girls not – or did they? Ali Azmat ko ghussa kyun aata hai aur Jaffer Zaidi ko hair commercial kab mile ga? Such profundities did I mull over…

8. One can not write a short course on Season 9 and not say something about Pakistan’s pride, Strings. If they were older I would marry them both, if they were younger I would adopt them. Since they are altogether the wrong age, I can just love them and say “Hum bhi dekhein ge”.

9. Finally, I mustered the courage to make suggestions for future productions. Hopefully two things will happen: you will tweet yourselves silly over my epic listicle thus taking it from buried blog to @stringsonline, and my friend Rizwan Khan of Coca Cola will read it and think “hmmm…idea bura nahin hai”.

Now that we are clear on assessment criteria, we can proceed to the results. **Ta Da sound with echo** The real listicle emerges…or…err…not!

This blog entry is too long already. I see you dozing, some even snoring and hey, did you just click your way to another page…you with the attention span of an amoeba? Ok, I get the message….let’s leave the rest to another day.

BTS, Aaqa, Abida Parveen & Ali Sethi, Episode 1, Coke Studio 9 from Coke Studio on Vimeo.

2/2 of Mausam e Nau coming up soon. Until then, mull over the criteria and let me know what else I should have considered (although there’s no way I’m listening to “Sasu Mangey” one more time…Hang me again!). You should spend at least as much time thinking about these as I’ve done documenting them. It’s a fair exchange.