I Hate Luv Storys
Lyrics: Anvita Dutt, Kumaar, Vishal Dadlani
Two tracks immediately stand out. Sadka, sung by Suraj Jagan, of Give me some sunshine (3 Idiots) fame, and Mahalaxmi Iyer, is a slow, trippy, alternative rock-ish love ballad. Jagan owns the song from the word go. Shekhar Ravjiani’s reprise of Bin tere is an elegantly composed unplugged number. It has Ravjiani’s passionate vocals over some magical guitar-playing.
Shreya Ghoshal’s Bahara may have given you diabetes, but the song works well because the composers offset Ghoshal’s saccharine-sweetness with Sona Mohapatra’s rustic, earthy vocals (who deserved more time on the song). Rahat Fateh Ali Khan’s version of the same song has some stunning israj-playing by Arshad, but Khan’s rendition is only too similar to his other popular tracks.
Even Bin tere suffers from sounding like a younger, cooler version of Shafqat Amanat Ali’s earlier Bollywood songs like Mitwa (Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna). (Also, exactly how many million times will feature on songs before lyricists retire the phrase?)
And if only it didn’t sound like the composers’ own Jaane kyun (Dostana), Jab mila tu would’ve been the best track on the album, for its young vibe and the catchy guitar hook by Warren Mendonsa.
As compared to the others, the title track seems like it was made the day before the music’s release. With its super cheesy lyrics and the mish-mash music, it’s one of those fast-forward tracks.
Vishal-Shekhar deserve credit for often taking the most conventional Bollywood situations, and giving them an atypical, imaginative musical direction.
So though it’s obvious from the lyrics of I Hate Luv Storys, that the movie has every Bollywood ‘love’ cliché thrown in (no wonder Imran Khan’s character hates it!), Vishal-Shekhar’s music impresses again.
What we like
Suraj Jagan owns the trippy, alternate rock-ish Sadka hua from the word ‘go’.
Bin tere’s reprise has passionate vocals by Shekhar Ravjiani, and some magical guitar-playing.
What we don’t like
Rahat Fateh Ali Khan’s rendition of Bahara is only too similar to his other popular tracks.
Bin tere also sounds like a younger, cooler version of Shafqat Amanat Ali’s earlier songs.
Music: Wayne Sharpe, Aadesh Shrivastava, Pritam and Shantanu Moitra
The music throws a surprise in the form of American composer, Wayne Sharpe. Given the daunting task of recreating India’s national song, Vande Mataram in a contemporary manner, the composer, who doesn’t understand much Hindi, has done a stunning job.
Dhan dhan dharti, aided by Gulzar’s multi-layered lyrics, is a well-composed and arranged number, sung powerfully by Shankar Mahadevan and Sonu Nigam (in different versions). Sharpe has done a stellar job of giving a western orchestral touch to the fiercely Indian song.
But apart from Sharpe’s song, only the Aadesh Srivastava-composed semi-classical Mora piya is worth listening to. The song showcases his vocal range, and is again, an innovative fusion of western instruments with well-written poetry by Sameer. The English vocals are the only hindrance, and should’ve been avoided.
Pritam’s composition, Bheegi si bhaagi si is a standard romantic song from the composer’s template, and offers nothing that you haven’t heard before.
And after a long, long time, there’s even an item number on the soundtrack (unless that’s a completely wrong assumption, and the lyrics, Saans chalti resham resham, nashe mein ghoom rahi hoon have a deeper meaning to them. But this one’s a more Rakhi Sawant-type item number than a Bipasha Basu type, and disappoints.