Did I say 1993 was a watershed moment in Indian cinematic music? Well, not going back on that, any time soon.
But, rewind 15 years from then, and you will see that a certain Ilaiyaraja had single-handedly capsized the long prevalent theories on film music with such authority that the discontinuity almost changed the entire dynamics of song composition.
Let me explain.
Prior to Raja, the music director was, in principle, a person who could set some catchy tunes. The industry nor the audience expected the musician to be well versed in orchestration. This meant that the majority of the musical pull resided in the tune, and consequently, the vocalists became the string pullers. The orchestration was seen as an unavoidable ‘support’ to the tune and was hence, mostly woven around it.
Raja changed all that.
Yes, one fine day, this man started treating his songs with the outlook of a western classical symphony – the idea being, while there is a central melody, the ‘song’ is not just the melody. And all of a sudden, there were multiple threads running in parallel with the melody, or at times, overshadowing the melody, in a way that shook the industry; mainly because none of the strains could be dispensed off, without affecting the summative effect.
And before you knew it, the ‘song’ became an ‘integral whole’, instead of two separate things – tune and orchestration – stitched together. The implicit bias towards the tune, based on a random rationale that it was the one that affected the ‘mainstream’ listener and more music in the interlude will distract him, was thrown out of the window, with the kind of scorn it deserved.
And so, with Raja taking over, the signature flourishes started sprouting out over the course of the entire song. more so in the preludes and the interludes, instead of being ‘trapped’ inside the tune. The interludes were no longer just cursory bridges connecting the stanzas. They became incredibly elaborate, at times more astounding than the principal tune. As a logical consequence, quite some magic happened. At times, the man would pull out a rabbit from his hat. At another, when you are expecting a rabbit, a dinosaur will jump out. But, you wouldn’t wince. Because he would go on to sell even that level of audacity, with an air of nonchalance.
En Vaanile from Johnny is one such magical act. The tune, to start with, is an instant winner. To be fair, it could walk around wearing a “Straight Outta Heaven” T-shirt. But, the prelude that leads to the ‘pallavi’ is where Raja comes into play. The slow, hesitant piano chords, which revel in their dissonance, interjecting between Jency’s iconic “No No No No” and “HmmHmmm, Just Listen” are one of the many things that lift the track to those stratospheric heights.
And when the piano subsequently kicks in with the principal melody, it’s like walking through a rainbow (0.18 to 0.36). No wonder, Yuvan got inspired.
The fact that Jency’s vocals pan out as an organic extension of the alluring chords is proof enough of the songstress’ capabilities. She flows with the tune, and the lyrics, in a way that promptly awakens and stirs the slumbering romantic in you.
என் வானிலே ஒரே வெண்ணிலா
காதல் மேகங்கள்…
கவிதை தாரகை… ஊர்வலம்
என் வானிலே ஒரே வெண்ணிலா…
With just nine words to drive the ‘melody’, any other composer might have sought an extra stanza, to make for an ‘anupallavi’. But Raja gearshifts straightaway, and launches the breathtaking first interlude that slingshots the fabric of the song to a whole new romantic orbit. And, the biggest feat is that Raja makes you perceive this ‘breakaway’ arrangement as a natural expansion of the track, without a hint of a jolt.
The transition from Jency’s trail-off with “ஒரே வெண்ணிலா…” to the subtle piano strokes at 1.08, leading on to the reign of the solo violin, is as smooth as silk. There are no jagged ends, none whatsoever. And when the flute makes an appearance, soon after, it’s like a mellow ‘jam session’ between the two for a few seconds. But, it’s only at 1.22 – fourteen seconds into the interlude – that Raja’s wizardry truly comes through. While the solo first violin keeps playing in the foreground till 1.31, the second and the third violins begin to play alternatively in the background from 1.32. This hypnotic structure is repeated once more, and when the backing violins taper off into the mesmerising piano chords at 1.49, it seems like the ultimate gate pass to nirvana.
When Jency returns to tug at your heartstrings, the piano just segues into her honeyed vocals of the charanam, without making a fuss about it. And the bass guitar, just like a skilled editor, exists in the backdrop, as an invisible entity, giving the final output its many hues and edges.
நீரோடை போலவே என் பெண்மை
நீராட வந்ததே என் மென்மை
சிரிக்கும் விழிகளில் ஒரு மயக்கம் பரவுதே
வார்த்தைகள் தேவையா…
Meanwhile, Rajinikanth and Sridevi are battling it out on screen with their subtle gestures and kinesics. And there’s something about the visuals that impart an ethereal quality to the whole stretch. One particular shot, which gazes at the duo – Rajini standing besides the piano as Sridevi seems lost in the keys – from a distance through the suspended bell curtains, nails the cloud of hesitance hanging over them, like no amount of close-ups would. And that insert of the maid, sitting on the stairs, fascinated beyond words at the way things unfold… that’s Mahendran, stamping his mark on the Raja spell.
And, as you get hit by yet another unique love child of the violin and the flute in the name of the second interlude, one thing is clear. Something like this was possible only because of Raja’s belief in his audience. Yes, a section of the listeners could be unsure of the technicalities, but if you know your stuff and crack the recipe to deliver it in style, the subconscious impact is bound to happen. This undaunted faith in the consumers’ innate perceptive abilities is the reason why a beauty like En Vaanile exists.
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PS: All specified time-frames are in reference to this version of the track:
Here’s a remastered HD audio version:
maniprabhuwrites 