R.D. Burman

R.D. Burman started out playing harmonica in his father's orchestras and arranging his cues, inheriting a specific ear along with the trade — S.D. Burman's habit of building a song's chanda, its metrical skeleton, before writing a note of melody. The two didn't always agree in the studio. According to a Homegrown profile of the family's musical partnership, working together on one 1971 session the elder Burman grew so unhappy with the take that 'he walked out' — and the abandoned recording became 'Dum Maaro Dum.' Years later, R.D. built 'Saagar Kinare' on the same chanda as his father's own 'Thandi Hawayen.'

listen: upstream & heresource: Homegrown — The Life, Legacy & Enduring Influence of S.D. Burman (studio walkout anecdote, Dum Maaro Dum origin) ↗share

1951

Thandi HawayenS.D. Burman

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1985

Saagar KinareR.D. Burman

listen forPlay S.D. Burman's 'Thandi Hawayen' (Naujawan, 1951) first, then R.D.'s 'Saagar Kinare' (Saagar, 1985): both are built on the same chanda, the metrical skeleton a composition is set on before the melody, and both are carried, decades apart, by Lata Mangeshkar's voice over the same unhurried, rise-and-fall pulse. R.D. dresses his version in a fuller arrangement with Kishore Kumar answering her — but strip that away and the bones underneath are his father's, learned before he ever composed one of his own.

Burman's own singing voice — the deliberate rasp he used on 'Mehbooba Mehbooba' rather than handing it to a playback singer — wasn't an accident of range; he explained it to his biographer, Chaitanya Padukone. 'He was fascinated by Louis [Armstrong] and didn't want to be stereotyped as a conventional playback singer,' Padukone writes in his book 'R.D. Burmania.' Burman put it to him more plainly: 'Meri awaaz ki koi pehchaan honi chaahiye' — my voice should have its own identity. Where Hindi film music prized smooth, trained tenors, Burman reached for Armstrong's gravel instead.

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1967

What a Wonderful WorldLouis Armstrong

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1975

Mehbooba MehboobaR.D. Burman

listen forCue Armstrong's 'What a Wonderful World' (1967) for the source: a warm, sandpapered growl carrying the melody, more felt than sung. Then play 'Mehbooba Mehbooba' (Sholay, 1975) — one of the rare Burman compositions he sang himself. The same rough-edged, chest-forward delivery is there, pushed harder over a driving beat, Helen dancing to a voice that refuses the polished, straight tone Hindi film singing usually demanded. It isn't imitation; it's the same instinct Armstrong gave a name to — let the voice sound like a voice, not an instrument.

By the mid-1960s Bollywood composers routinely borrowed foreign melodies outright, but Burman's borrowing ran deeper than a lifted tune — he built whole productions around the sound of Western rock bands. The Bollywood history site Curious Indian states plainly that he 'was heavily influenced by Western bands and artists like The Beatles and Santana, often adapting their styles into an Indian context.' The clearest evidence is his commercial breakthrough, 'Teesri Manzil' (1966): heavy brass, electric organ, and what the same profile called 'rock 'n' roll energy that Bollywood had never heard before.'

listen: upstream & hereshare

1967

A Day in the LifeThe Beatles

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1971

Dum Maaro DumR.D. Burman

listen forPlay the Beatles' 'A Day in the Life' (1967) — Sgt. Pepper at its most unrestrained, an orchestra let loose inside a rock song, studio effects piled on top of a plain verse structure. Then 'Dum Maaro Dum' (Hare Rama Hare Krishna, 1971): Burman layers electric guitar and organ over Asha Bhosle's vocal, reaching for a disorienting, psychedelic wash that the culture site Music Tales compared to '1970s California bands.' Neither song resembles the other note for note; what carries over is the appetite to let a studio experiment take over a pop song.