A Voice that Crossed Over; A Voice of a Generation
Singer SPB performing in Singapore. Source: Sundar / Wikimedia Commons
S.P. Balasubrahmanyam’s iconic voice and plethora of soundtracks marked the multilingual singer as one of the most essential artists of his time. Jamie Alter recalls the impact of the crossover artist in the Hindi film industry.
The first time I heard S.P. Balasubrahmanyam’s voice was as a child, watching the video for “Sach Mere Yaar Hai” from Ramesh Sippy’s Saagar (1985) on Doordarshan, I was intrigued. This was not Kishore Kumar or Mohammad Rafi, the two stalwarts of Hindi film music whose voices I had become accustomed to from a young age, having heard the work of both playback singers on audio cassettes and LPs at home. There was something cheerful in Balasubrahmanyam’s hatke singing, which dripped with richness, but which was, even to my naïve young ears, not the voice of a natural Hindi-speaker.
In a pre-internet India, where the most common outlet to listen to Hindi film music was Chitrahaar and All India Radio, not having a face to put to this deep, rich and harmonious voice added to the allure of SPB (as Balasubrahmanyam was affectionately known). Years later, when I saw his photo in a film magazine, there was no surprise. The face matched the voice: elderly yet cherubic, and very genial.
Growing older, I cannot recall the number of times I have sung “Aaja Shaam Hone Aayi” in my head in SPB’s voice as I skipped across one of Landour’s pagdandis. or hummed “Pehli Baar Mile Hain” to my wife, while brewing a cup of coffee or playing cards at the dinner table. My playlists of 1980s and 1990s Hindi film songs contain almost all of his hits.
SPB will be, forever, the voice of Prem in Maine Pyar Kiya and Hum Aapke Hain Kaun… His playful style of singing matched Salman Khan’s on-screen persona: childish, perky and playful and with a hint of that quintessential Indian word, masti.
A multi-faceted singer, music director, actor, dubbing artist and producer, S.P. Balasubrahmanyam died last week at the age of 74 after a cardio-respiratory arrest following post COVID-19 complications. He passed away as a legend in Indian music. across a singing career that spanned 50 years, in which he recorded over an estimated 40,000 songs in multiple Indian languages. He was the recipient of six national awards, a Padma Shri, and a Padma Bhushan.
SPB was the second South Indian singer to successfully break into the Hindi film industry. And he was, until A.R. Rahman took the plunge with 1995’s iconic Rangeela, the biggest musician from the south to transcend boundaries and achieve success in the Hindi films. Before him was Yesudas, who first sang in a Hindi film in 1971, and gained popularity from Amol Palekar’s Chitchor (1976), and who delivered other hit songs during that decade. But unlike Yesudas, SPB sang immensely popular songs in big-budget, mainstream Hindi films.
Originally from Nellore in present-day Andhra Pradesh, SPB made a splash in 1981 as the voice of another iconic Tamil star, Kamal Hasan, in his Hindi debut, Ek Duje Ke Liye, an emotional rollercoaster of a love story between a Tamil man and a North Indian woman. The film was a blockbuster, won a National Award and three Filmfare Awards and its songs achieved immense popularity.
After the success of Ek Duje Ke Liya and its music—composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal—SPB sang just 11 songs in six subsequent Hindi films from 1982 to 1985. Five of these were helmed by the Laxmikant-Pyarelal duo, but it was the film Saagar, scored by RD Burman, that left the biggest mark. Getting SPB to sing for Hasan again proved a good move to reach Hindi film viewers on hits like “Sach Mere Yaar Hai”, “O Maria” and “Yunhi Gaate”.
In 1989, after a four-year hiatus, SPB’s career turned a corner. Love stories made a stunning comeback in the Bombay film industry. It was the duo of Raam-Laxman who roped in SPB as the voice of a new star kid on the block—Salman Khan—in Sooraj Barjatya’s record-breaking love story Maine Pyar Kiya. SPB sang nine of the 11 songs in the runaway hit, which to date remains both the singer’s and music directors’ pivotal soundtrack.
Close your eyes and think of a skinny Salman, and chances are that immediately SPB’s lyrical and soothing voice will come to mind; invariably, the words in your head will be “Toh kis baat ki hai ladaii” or “Mere rang mein rangne waali”. SPB was the voice of Salman for seven years across 11 movies, and without a doubt played a huge role in the actor’s popularity in the initial years of acting career.
In 1991, SPB lent his voice to Salman in the biggest Hindi film soundtrack of the year, Saajan, in crowd favorite tracks such as “Dekha Hai Pehli Baar”, “Tumse Milni Ki Tamanna Hai”, “Pehli Baar Mile Hain”, “Bahut Pyar Karte Hain” and “Jeeye Toh Jeeye Kaise”. Each of these songs was a chartbuster, and each one continues to be associate with both Salman Khan and SPB. Indeed, “Dekha Hai Pehli Baar” was the anthem of the year.
Also, in 1991, SPB sang seven songs in Salman’s fifth movie, Patthar Ke Phool, again composed b Raam-Laxman. The film did decent business, owing largely to the music. Hits like “Kabhi Tu Chhalia Lagta Hai” and “Tumse Dekhte Hi Pyar Hua” added to Salman’s popularity and still gain airplay on many North Indian radio stations.
L-R: Satish, S.P. Balasubrahmanyam, Sakshi Thakur, Nikhil Kamath, Rajen Thomas. Photo courtesy: Nikhil Kamath.
Not since Kishore helped turn Rajesh Khanna into a superstar, and made countless women across India weak in the knees with Aradhana in 1969, had one singer’s voice been so intricately linked to a Hindi film actor’s popularity. Similarly, there has not been any other singer-actor pairing like SPB-Salman in Hindi films. SPB will be, forever, the voice of Prem in Maine Pyar Kiya and Hum Aapke Hain Kaun.
SPB’s playful style of singing matched Salman’s on-screen persona: childish, perky and playful and with a hint of that quintessential Indian word, masti. Match SPB’s voice to Salman’s jolly-frisky antics in songs such as “Tumse Milne Ki Tamanna Hai” and “Pehli Baar Mile Hain” from Saajan, or his fun-loving histrionics in “Kabhi Tu Chhalia Lagta Hai” and “Tumse Dekhte Hi Pyar Hua” from Patthar Ke Phool, and the result is uniquely entertaining. And who can forget the brilliant “Yeh Raat Aur Yeh Doori” from Andaz Apna Apna? There is something playful and skittish about the pair, not too dissimilar from Rafi singing for Shammi Kapoor in “Tumsa Nahin Dekha” and “Chahe Koi Mujhe Junglee Kahe”.
But, beyond the frolicsome and at times frivolous fun of the aforementioned Salman hits, SPB’s discography is filled with many deeper and better songs in less successful Hindi films. One such track is “Hum Na Samjhe The” from Gardish (1993), a pathos-filled song about a strained father-son relationship. “Aake Teri Baahon Mein” from Vansh (1992) is a slow-burning love song about two lovers from different walks of society. It is no coincidence that both these films were remakes of south Indian films, and yet the fact that SPB sang them has no bearing on the musical outcome of such songs.
Listen to him in the underrated duet with Alka Yagnik, “Yeh Zindagi Kabhi Kabhi” from Tadipaar (1993), as he completes the last part of the refrain. The way SPB punctuates the words “Wafah … bhari … nazar … mein … bhi …” before quickening the pace to complete the lyrics “…kuch kami si lagti hai” is wonderful, and highlights the nuance he brought to many songs. Hear him sing gems such as “Saanson Ka Kya Hai Pata”, “Sapno Mein Aana, Dil Mein Samaana” and “Lagne Laga Hai Mujhe Aaj Kal” from Chor Aur Chaand (1993) to hear the man’s versatility shine through.
Not surprisingly, Nadeem-Shravan captured the sombre essence of SPB in Saajan, in “Jeeye to Jeeya Kaise”, arguably the greatest love triangle Hindi film song composed. Listen to SPB in the third stanza of this pain-filled gem as he begins with a rueful chuckle. Only he could have pulled it off. It remains one of my favourite SPB songs, even though he only makes a brief appearance.
SPB sang the majority of his Hindi songs at a time when Kumar Sanu and Udit Narayan were the kings of mainstream Hindi films, and Abhijeet Bhattacharya and Vinod Rathod and Amit Kumar were on the periphery with many hits. It might seem as if SPB was relegated to sporadic opportunities, but much of this had to do, of course, with his immense popularity and work schedule back in Chennai, which kept him occupied singing songs across regional languages.
Music director Nikhil Kamath, of musical duo Nikhil-Vinay who composed many film scores in the 1990s, worked with SPB in the Aditya Pancholi-Pooja Bhatt starrer Chor Aur Chand. This road film was plagued by an ugly spat between Pancholi (who also produced the film) and T-Series baron Gulshan Kumar, resulting in the soundtrack not receiving enough airplay in the promotional period and post-release.
The songs of Chor Aur Chand were well accepted, however. Kamath still has fond memories of working with the versatile singer, whom he terms “a super intellectual man”. “I was a great fan of SPB from my school days, and I dreamt that if I became a composer, I would definitely work with him,” said Kamath. “When we did Chor Aur Chaand, the director Pawan Kaul was very certain that he wanted different songs for the film unlike what was being composed in Hindi films in that era, which were very Indian-based songs. The film’s hero [Pancholi] was different, the storyline was different, so Pawan wanted the music to be different. We decided to make SP Balasubrahmanyam the voice of Aditya Pancholi.”
“He wanted to understand the song, and such was his skill that he actually didn’t need a lot of time to record. He got into the songs very fast, he was right on top of the pitch. He was a genius, and he respected the composer. Singers like him are rare, because once they arrive in the studio, they become your student.”
“SPB took a very early morning flight from Chennai to Bombay, recorded four to five songs and took the 8pm flight back. Can you imagine? It didn’t take him more than an hour or so for each song. He arrived at around 7:30 am and began recording at 9:00 am. The man was very focused, humble, skillful and passionate about his work. When we handed him the first song, he picked it up very fast. I taught him the tune on the harmonium in A-minor scale, and within half an hour he’d learnt the song while sitting in the singing room of Golden Studios. Pawan Kaul explained each of the song’s situations to SPB, and he kept asking him to go into all the details.”
Kamath added, “I remember he particularly stressed on one line, ‘Saanso ka kya hai pata’ and asked about the notes. SPB didn’t want to show up, record and leave. He wanted to understand the song, and such was his skill that he actually didn’t need a lot of time to record. He got into the songs very fast, he was right on top of the pitch. He was a genius, and he respected the composer. Singers like him are rare, because once they arrive in the studio, they become your student. He didn’t ask about our background. He respected us for our work and was there to make good music. There was no ego, no baggage. He would ask what he could do to improve a song and I would say ‘Balaji, aise kare kya?’ and hum a line or two, and he would understand that he had the freedom to experiment. It was such a blissful experience working with SPB.”
While discussing the film’s music, the singer would compare certain lines and tunes with older music composers and songs, such as Ilaiyaraaja and RD Burman and Kalyanji-Anandji. This left an impression on Kamath. “He told us we were so melodious, so different and what fun he was having,” the composer recalls. “When he was singing ‘Baat Kya Hai’, he told me this is very Pancham Da-ish. We told him we were great fans of RD Burman, and he was happy that we had tapped into that kind of music, for him as a singer. He told me ‘You know, Nikhil, I’m not very trained in music but I have a good ear for music. I had studied his voice, so the scales we had recorded were all right. He was laughing while recording, and kept saying what fun he was having. ‘Nikhil, you’re a mast guy … bahut achcha laga’ he said after packing up. He was very jovial.”
Jovial, indeed. More than anything, that word best encapsulates SPB’s approach to singing in Hindi films.
On a personal note, my favourite SPB song is “Pehli Baar Mile Hain” from Saajan. Forget the fact that the catchy tune is a rip-off of Suzanne Vega’s “Solitude Standing”; SPB makes this song his own, intoxicating it with his honey-coated voice, making it fun and repeatable. Twenty-nine years after its release, this song still slaps a goofy smile on my face as soon as I hear SPB have a ball singing it, especially when he throws in a subtle “haye” between lyrics. ‘Dilkash aankhein, nikhra chehra/sheeshe jaise yeh badan/aise chamke roop tumhara/jaise paani mein kiran …’. Rarely have such superficial lyrics been enriched by such a luminous voice.
Rest in peace, SPB, and thank you for all the memories.
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Jamie Alter is a sports writer and journalist in the digital world, having covered cricket around the world including three World Cups. After nearly five years working for ESPNcricinfo, Jamie served as Sports Editor of the Times of India Digital, Cricbuzz, Cricketnext and most recently as Group Sports Editor (Digital) at Zee Media. He also also authored two cricket-related books and dabbled in acting. You can find him on Twitter: @alter_jamie.
