Rebel with a Tumbi

AMAR SINGH CHAMKILA ★ ★ ★ Composer: AR Rahman Lyrics: Irshad Kamil

WITH THE six- song jukebox for Imtiaz Ali’s Amar Singh Chamkila — the biopic of the slain Punjabi folk singer, anointed ‘ Elvis of Punjab’, who shot to fame in the ’ 80s with his songs about illicit love, sexuality, drug use and domestic issues — composer AR Rahman and lyricist Irshad Kamil have managed to conjure the memories of a Punjabi hinterland from almost half a century ago. A time when Chamkila’s akharas in villages — replete with men, women and children — were spaces of revelry, where he’d sing of taboo subjects with aplomb.

In an album about Chamkila — a Dalit man married to an upper- caste woman, who sang of the common man’s rustic desires and would go on to shine brightly — Rahman does attempt to broaden the sound with fresh ideas in a very stale Bollywood landscape of today.

But it’s out- an- out an Irshad Kamil triumph. The lyricist has successfully navigated the difficult terrain, allowing us to be in the sensory space that belongs to the lore of Chamkila, the obsession people have had with his life, his songs that would titillate and then his death.

Baaja, the marquee piece of the film sung by Mohit Chauhan and also heard in the film’s trailer, opens gently with a Punjabi couplet — Ain- e- ishq da pehla akkhar ( First alphabet of the ritual of love), sung by Suryansh Sharma, and suddenly but dazzlingly makes a full- bodied shift to a spirited space with dhols and nagadas — a metaphor for Punjab of the ’ 80s that came with militancy, the State’s ruthless response to it and Chamkila’s music amid that space. Sakht waqt tha wo, Bhay bhayyanak tha... Chhedta chhabeela, bistaron ki leela... ( It was a tough, terrifying time... A teasing Chamkila discussed intimate stories in his music). Kamil precedes these lines with words like ‘ sexila’, ‘ tharkila’ in a brilliant and vivid expression of imagery. These aren’t words really, in any language. But pair them with Chamkila being described in 2024, and they work like a charm. Baaja, by far, is the clear winner in the album.

Rahman enters the Sufi space with Bol mohobbat, musically reminiscent of Mera yaar mila de from Saathiya ( 2002). A soft flute finds haunting spaces as Kailash Kher and Rahman croon this in a higher register. Kamil uses Sufi saint Baba Bulleshah’s lyrics alongside his own while Rahman touches upon raga Ahir Bhairav to reflect on the tangle that Ali is trying to showcase in the Diljeet Dosanjh and Parineeti Chopra starrer.

A short piano prelude which begins by feeling too Western ( as if The Beatles would soon break into Imagine), opens Mainu vida karo sung by Arijit Singh. Chamkila’s swan song, it swims into focus as a reminder of Mohammad Rafi songs from a bygone era. While it’s a fine rendition, I wonder why Rahman didn’t use a Punjabi singer for this one. B Praak could have turned the song into a heart- wrenching cry. The sobriety of the song is sweet, just not as rousing — the way this death was.

Ishq mitaye opens beautifully with just voices singing in Punjabi followed by a tumbi, which sounds too electronic for one’s comfort. Overall, this is a very Rockstar kind of track ( listen to the line Dhunak meri). But Kamil takes the cake here with the line — Mere agge duniya da rang saara fikka, Apne lahu se hi lagaaya maine tikka, Main hoon Punjab — describing pithily the life and times of Punjab as well as Chamkila.

Naram kaalja, women singing of their secrets of desire and playing the music of Chamkila, opens with a tumbi. Richa Sharma is glowing here, while Alaka Yagnik is a strange choice as one of the singers. She sounds way too well- tempered for this muscular track. Yashika Sikka sings Tu kya jaane, a sweet, romantic melody. I wish it was crisper with a traditional voice. The use of sarod here, a reminder of the rustic Punjabi rabab, is insightful. However, there seems to be some autotune in higher notes, which could have been avoided.

Using the sound of tumbi in an album isn’t enough. While some of the tunes from Rahman are truly inspired, the voices singing them don’t do justice. Ali needed to pick the voices of the hinterland for the same. While Chamkila’s actual songs will be heard in the film, the winner of this album, is Kamil with his Hindi- UrduHindustani- Hinglish- Punjabi lyrics that are not just witty, they stick to tough metres set by Rahman and shine while creating a multi- textured portrait of a complicated artiste. The score is nice. Even brilliant in parts. It just isn’t unsettling enough. Remember Andar da kutta ajj kadiye from Udta Punjab?