"Hold my Beer" - Illaiyaraaja's ultimatum
I don’t mind being biased because, let’s face it, it's the need of the hour.
It was the early '80s, and we were fortunate enough to be born at the perfect time, getting the best of both worlds. I was in Vellore, Tamil Nadu, India, a city that had more highs than lows. There were a few things that would forever etch themselves in my memory.
- Would this guy named Kapil Dev be as good as Imran Khan?
- Why is the sports page always at the second last page in The Hindu? Can’t they put it on the front page?
- When is Balu Mahendra’s next movie coming out?
- Is Jaws really a true story?
- How could Rajini, who dances like a wooden spoon, have more hits than Kamal Hassan?
- Will India ever beat Pakistan in a cricket game?
- Why do I have to study B.Com when I can be a medical student?
But the mother of all questions back then was:
"What's next from Illaiyaraja?"
Illaiyaraaja ruled our hearts during those times. My own journey with Illaiyaraaja was a bit turbulent, though. I’d always loved Tamil movies, especially the songs. My love started with the timeless classics of MS Viswanathan, with my absolute favorite being “Avalukkena Alagiya Mujgam.”
The day that I heard that song, MSV became my hero. MSV reached his peak with Ninaithaale Innikum (starring Kamal and Rajini, named alphabetically), but after that, his career started to take a dive.
Then came a movie called Annakilli, with a new music composer named Illaiyaraaja. The songs from Annakilli were echoing everywhere, and I, being an ardent fan of MSV, refused to even watch the movie. I was in denial.
My “A-ha” moment with Illaiyaraaja came when I was in a theater watching Rajini’s Billa—a remake of Amitabh’s Don. While the movie was a hit, the songs were quite mediocre.
A few months later, there was another Rajini movie called Kazhugu. This time, Illaiyaraaja’s music was phenomenal. Kazhugu didn’t do well at the box office (I’ll write about that separately), but I couldn’t help but wonder how big of a blockbuster it would’ve been if the songs had been like those in Kazhugu.
I found myself asking, “WWID?” (What Would Illaiyaraaja Do?) and couldn’t stop thinking about it. From that point on, I was on the Illaiyaraaja bandwagon! I started watching every morning movie show with Illaiyaraaja’s music, and life couldn’t have been better.
Then came 1983, and a movie called Ellam Inba Mayam was released. The audio records came out a couple of months before the film itself.
One song, “Maaman Voodu, Machi Voodu,” in Madras slang, had every muscle in our bodies moving! The cassette cover featured Kamal Haasan posing with a guitar, and the idea of a “Madras Pettai” song made us all curious.
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| "Aint look like a Pettai Pisthaa" |
When the movie was released, it turned out to be just another “another day, another dollar” type of film. Kamal was the crowd puller, and the producers relied on his charm and Illaiyaraaja’s magic rather than a strong storyline.
Finally, the moment came! "The Song"!
Kamal’s performance as a “Pettai Pisthaa,” trying to impress a business tycoon whose son is getting married ordinary Pettai Beauty, was impeccable. The song, with its Madras slang, had us in stitches!
It was a perfect collaboration between Kamal’s acting and Illaiyaraaja’s music. While Tamil cinema’s choreography often left much to be desired, the overall sequence was beautifully shot, with Illaiyaraaja seamlessly blending Bilahari, Shankarabharanam, and Ghana.
So, why am I talking about all of this after so many years?
Well, it’s because of Illaiyaraaja’s symphony, which got me to revisit his work. A recent Google search for Illaiyaraaja led me to Maaman Voodu, Machi Voodu once again, and I’ve had it on auto-replay ever since.
As for Illaiyaraaja, the answer to my “WWID” question? All he can do is give a thumbs up, wink his eyes, and say to all the so-called musicians, “Hold my beer!”
Heres the link to the song itself!
#IllaiyarajaSymphony
#Valiant
#Illaiyaraja
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