Listeners of Tamil film music have, to be honest, had the honour of being immersed in an Ilayaraja-AR Rahman world for the better part of the last three decades. The contrasting geniuses of both of these composers has meant that the average expectation of what constitutes a good, catchy song is significantly higher than the largely repetitive formulaic fare dished out in Bollywood during the same time period. But as someone who plays a few instruments and makes music at least at an amateur level, my ear for music is going to be slightly different from the average music aficionado. I grew up enjoying the minimalist brilliance of Ilayaraja whose compositional genius had to do with a brilliant interplay between folksy Indian melodies and spot on counterpoint harmonies that were way ahead of their time for Indian film music. What Rahman did was expand our sonic palate to levels unheard of before. His music ebbed and flowed in many dimensions, across timbre, harmony and melody, and he was pretty much the first composer to truly take advantage of digital tools.
The post-Rahman era has also unfortunately given way to a lot of overproduced, synthesised digital music, if you will. The more sensitive eared among you will realise that there is a clear difference between someone playing a real instrument and someone emulating that instrument on a keyboard synthesiser using software libraries. Just keep turning the knobs on FM radio in Chennai and it’s an unendingly repetitive stream of music that sounds so synthesised that it simply cannot be played live.
And this is where Suchitra and Ranjith’s single, No Time for Love sounds like a breath of fresh air. The song starts with the delectable sound of an acoustic guitar playing seventh chords whose slight tension perfectly complement Suchitra asking why there wasn’t any time for love. The hook is super catchy and builds up in intensity as she continues to lament why there is a general paucity of togetherness-time, if you will. The groovy bass line works perfectly with the question that is posed every line of the verse.
The addition of the accordion when Ranjith provides his response to Suchi adds a subtle call and a response touch which is really nice because it feels like the guy is asking a friend to support his valid reasons for not being around. For me, the music has to signal things that the lyrics cannot literally specify and this was something that struck me after a couple of listens as a really nice touch.
All in all, It’s a lovely, catchy pop song that avoids the typical overproduced sound that has become de rigeur in film music and also has a hook that will have you humming it all day long after you hear it once.