Sonu Nigam was born in Faridabad in 1973 and began performing at age four alongside his father, singing the film songs of Mohammed Rafi, whose voice he studied so closely that he came to be nicknamed the 'Modern Rafi.' After moving to Mumbai as a teenager and releasing an album of Rafi covers, he broke through in the mid-1990s and became one of Hindi cinema's defining playback voices across the late 1990s and 2000s, prized for a supple, classically grounded tenor equally at home in patriotic anthems, romantic ballads, and pop. He won the National Film Award for the title track of 'Kal Ho Naa Ho' and has since worked across devotional, ghazal, semi-classical, and rock idioms.
Rafi was Nigam's first and defining idol: he began singing Rafi's film songs with his father at age four, released an album of Rafi covers ('Rafi Ki Yaadein') in 1992, and is so often compared to him for timbre and phrasing that he is nicknamed the 'Modern Rafi.' Rafi's model is clearest in Nigam's soaring, open-throated delivery of patriotic and devotional material.
listen forPut on Rafi's war-farewell anthem 'Kar Chale Hum Fida' and then Nigam's 'Sandese Aate Hai' — both ride the same swelling, chest-forward tenor that lifts a soldier's lament into a national hymn, holding long notes with a plaintive tremor rather than showy force.
Nigam counts Kishore Kumar among the trio of playback greats — with Rafi and Mukesh — that he grew up idolizing, and his lighter, more playful romantic register draws on Kishore's conversational ease and rhythmic buoyancy. Where Rafi shaped Nigam's grandeur, Kishore's influence surfaces in his flirtatious, quick-footed pop songs.
listen forLine up Kishore's breathy, sensual 'Roop Tera Mastana' against Nigam's 'Yeh Dil Deewana' — both let the voice slip into an intimate, half-smiling croon over a bouncing beat, treating seduction as something light and teasing rather than earnest.
Mukesh completes the trinity of golden-age idols Nigam names, the voice of melancholy and restraint whose plaintive, unornamented delivery models the introspective side of Nigam's art. You hear it when Nigam pulls back into a quiet, aching register instead of soaring.
listen forSet Mukesh's sorrow-lined 'Kabhi Kabhie Mere Dil Mein' beside Nigam's 'Abhi Mujh Mein Kahin' — both keep the voice low and confessional, letting a slight catch and unhurried phrasing carry the weight of regret rather than volume.