Institute for Studies In American Music
Conservatory of Music, Brooklyn College of the City University of New York
NEWSLETTER


Volume XXXIII

 


No. 2      Spring 2004

Inside This Issue:

Documenting Calypso by Stephen Stuemple

Brooklyn’s Jazz Renaissance by Robin D.G. Kelley

Bolly’hood Re-mix by Kevin Miller

Johanna Beyer by Melissa J. de Graaf

Exploring Roots Music: Review by Charles K. Wolfe

Cage and Carter DVDs: Review by Anton Vishio

ISAM Matters

Home

 

 

Bolly’hood Remix
By Kevin Miller

When I first heard it, I was driving in the car with my mom in the passenger seat, the radio tuned to Jammin’ 94.5 and blaring out upbeat hip hop tunes.  Suddenly, I hear the words “Kaliyon ka chaman tab bantha hai...” and I can only stare at my mother in shock.  This was the first, but certainly not the last I heard of the chart-topping song “Addictive” by Truth Hurts.

Manasi Singhal, a young man of Indian descent

With its striking combination of R&B, hip hop, and Indian film music, the track “Addictive,” produced by DJ Quik with vocals by Truth Hurts, has distinguished itself as the boldest example yet to emerge of the “Bollywood” trend in mainstream hip hop and R&B.  Bollywood is the popular name given to the Mumbai film industry, which has for decades been the source of popular music in India and the majority of South Asia and its diaspora.  The sudden appearance of these vintage songs—together with other South Asian musical sounds and genres—as decontextualized samples in the sonic structure of mainstream hip hop tracks on the radio and MTV has been received by Indian American listeners as a mixed blessing.  Like the hip hop fan quoted above, many members of this community have reacted to this cross-cultural sampling with a sense of excitement and pride, although this pride is tempered by a degree of trepidation over issues of musical integrity and cultural representation.  At the same time, this adoptive relationship between hip hop and South Asian music is further revealed as reciprocal when we consider the growing importance of hip hop in South Asian communities and the emergence of “South Asian hip hop” crews in many North American cities. The Bollywood trend in mainstream hip hop offers a critical opportunity for a greater understanding among these different groups across lines of ethnicity and class.    

While the introduction of South Asian sounds into Western popular music can be traced back at least to the Beatles’ “Norwegian Wood,” the current flurry of Indian samples and sounds in hip hop can be traced back to Missy Elliott’s “Get Ur Freak On,” which features producer Timbaland’s innovative use of the tabla and other South Asian instrumental and vocal snippets.  Subsequent examples include Bollywood samples in Lil’ Kim’s “Get in Touch With Us;” sitar sounds in Tweet’s “Call Me” and Beyoncé’s “Baby Boy;” and Bhangra re-mixes of SNAP’s “The Power,” and Craig David’s “Rise & Fall.”2  And, in case there was any doubt that South Asian sounds have reached the mainstream, Britney Spears includes a “Desi Kulcha” remix of “Me Against the Music” on her latest album with the help of British Asian producer Rishi Rich.  Two songs that exemplify the Bolly’hood re-mix are Truth Hurts’ “Addictive” and Erick Sermon’s “React,” both of which sample Bollywood soundtracks. 

These sonic borrowings in hip hop must be further contextualized as a part of the larger phenomenon of Western popular culture’s fascination with the Indian aesthetic (manifest, for example, in films and fashion) often described as “Indo-chic,” the quintessential example here being Madonna’s use of mehndi (henna) and the bindhi (forehead ornamentation).  Sunaina Maira and other cultural theorists have begun to refer to such cross-cultural appropriations of commodities as the “new Orientalism.”3  The entry of hip hop and R&B artists into this arena deepens with significance due to the timing of these releases in a post September 11 world.  Indeed, the sustenance of the Bollywood trend in mainstream music can be partly explained by a curiosity about a region of the world stirred up by the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, and the resignification of brown-skinned peoples in the United States. 

Truth Hurts’s 2002 hit song “Addictive” features an uncredited Bollywood song, sampled throughout the track, titled “Thoda Resham Lagta Hai” (“It Looks Silky”) sung in Hindi by the well-known Indian singer Lata Mangeshkar.  The distinctly “othered” sonic texture of the Indian sample inspired the setting and choreography for the “Addictive” video, which features a lavish haremesque nightclub populated by dancers—mostly African American—in a variety of Middle East/South Asian-inspired dress.  Other Indian elements—such as henna hand designs and head movements characteristically used in Indian dance—are freely mixed with Middle Eastern elements—most apparent in the profusion of belly dancing.  An indulgent fantasy space is thus created through the collapsing of two or more distinct cultures—an action that denies an accurate reference to the geopolitical origins of the Mangeshkar sample, yet at the same time pays homage to the eclectic fantasy sequences so common to the Bollywood cinema.

In addition to the socio-political climate, another explanation for the recent proliferation of Indian sounds in hip hop may simply be that DJs are digging deeper into the crates—looking for original sounds to expand the palette of their art.  DJ Quik first heard the Lata Mangeshkar song while watching the Hindi film Jyoti on Z-TV, and subsequently looped large sections into a framework over which the R&B lyrics were laid.  “Addictive” became a top ten hit, and its video went into heavy rotation on the major video channels.  Fans of the track included Indian Americans who were surprised and thrilled to hear “their” Bollywood music in the mainstream media.  However, many of those listeners familiar with the Indian system of raag and taal, the melodic mode and rhythmic cycle employed in the original Bollywood song, hear the interplay of Mangeshkar and Truth Hurts as insurmountably dissonant.  Said one listener, “When I listen to this, I cringe the whole way through...I love the idea, but I’m not necessarily thrilled with how they did it and how it sounds.”4  Such listeners are responding partly to the tension between the new R&B vocals and the lengthy raag-based singing of the original Bollywood track preserved in the sample.  There is also a subtle but troubling rhythmic tension created between the component parts of “Addictive” as they slip slowly out of sync only to return together at the top of the loop. 

It was not long, however, until “Addictive” was transformed from a symbol of cultural fusion into the latest poster child warning the dangers of copyright infringement in digital sampling.  Bappi Lahiri, the composer of “Thoda Resham Lagta Hai,” filed a lawsuit in October 2002 against executive producer Dr. Dre, Aftermath Records, and its parent company, Interscope/Universal Music Group, claiming that the song was used without permission.  Lahiri successfully won an injunction, halting the sales of the album and single, and is further seeking damages up to one million dollars, charging the defendants with “cultural imperialism.”5  Dr. Dre has stated that an attempt was made to locate the copyright holders, but it remains that their decision to go ahead with the track demonstrates an ignorance regarding the size and importance of the Indian film industry and the significance of Lata Mangeshkar, perhaps the most recorded voice in the world.  What’s more, a second suit was brought by Saregama India Limited, the record company claiming rights to the original recording, against Dr. Dre et al., demanding the astounding sum of 500 million dollars.6 

A few months after “Addictive” hit the charts, Erick Sermon, Redman, and producer Just Blaze released their single “React.”  In addition to a short excerpt from a Bollywood soundtrack, “React” features the repeating, originally composed motive as shown above that appears alternately voiced as synthesized strings and a sitar. This motive achieves a certain kind of sonic Orientalism, referencing a musical stereotype about the Middle East, in part, through the augmented second sound suggested here between the C and the D#.  It could be argued that the snippet of Bollywood soundtrack employed in this example works better musically than the Mangeshkar track used in “Addictive,” but the real schism in this case occurs between the lyrics issued by Sermon and the meaning of the original sample sung in Hindi as shown below.  A translation of the Hindi passage reveals that the singer is making a fatalistic comment about suicide.

 

First Verse and Chorus from “React” (Erick Sermon)

 

Hey yo, I’m immaculate, come through masculine

Wide-body frame, E-dub’s the name, whoa

In the field of rap, I’m superb, I’m fly

I should be in the sky with birds

I ride 20 inch rims when I lean, yo (Hey yo, them tens nigga)

I know, I keep ’em clean though

Come through stormin’ the block like El Niño

Scoop up an Arabic chick before she close

She goes, those my people

Yeah, them broads from Puerto Rico, them Keith’s folks

Yeah, watch how the “E” locs 64

Black rags, black interior, shift on the floor

Burn out, I do it for the kids

They’re hoppin’ the turnstile, the “E” goin’ wild

Yo, like them white chicks on a DVD

Yeah, I’m worldwide, MTV and BET, nigga

 

Sample: Kisii ko khudkhushii kaa shauk ho to kyaa kare vo

[If someone has a fondness for suicide, what can one do?]

 

Whateva’ she said, then I’m that

If this here rocks to y’all, then react (repeat)

 

Regarding this juxtaposition of Hindi and English, a listener named Samir remarked: “If you’re not Indian it sounds fine but I understand, and everyone I know thinks it sounds stupid.”7  Like “Addictive,” the video for “React” features African American women in a fusion of Middle Eastern and South Asian dress, in this case mouthing the words of the Hindi sample.  Sermon refers to the disembodied voice, now made flesh, as an “Arabic chick.”  According to Raj Beri, an Indian American music journalist, “This ignorance of South Asian culture is furthered through songs like ‘React,’ which, like most media, tend to group anything exotic and strange from the so-called ‘Third World’ into one category.  This is especially dangerous after 9/11, and contributes to the public’s lack of knowledge about the regions—evidenced by how South Asian Sikhs and Arabs are all the same in America’s eyes.”8  Other critics have taken this a step further, echoing Lahiri’s charge of cultural imperialism.9  Chris Fitzpatrick asserts that artists like Truth Hurts and Erick Sermon “set imperialism to a new bass-heavy beat, claiming traditional ‘third world’ art forms as hot commodities.”10 

Of course, the unspoken question remains whether it is really the responsibility of the artist to educate or enlighten the masses.  Should we expect to learn lessons in geography and culture from popular music?  According to Sammy Chand, the founder of a South Asian music label based in Southern California, the answer is absolutely “yes.”  Pointing to the recent collaboration between Jay-Z and the British bhangra star Panjabi MC, Chand notes: “These collaborations have created ambassadors...there’s Indian music that’s going into the African American community—thus the American community at large, and vice versa...it brings [each community] a little bit closer to each other.”11  Chand’s label, Rukus Avenue Records, is one of several regional epicenters of South Asian hip hop in the United States.  While these crews engage the wider hip hop community and form alliances with other peoples of color, many Indian American consumers of hip hop music, especially of the suburban class, may regard other minorities with ambivalence, or worse.  Nitasha Sharma recalls meeting Indian American college students who identified Tupac Shakur as their favorite musician, and yet claim to have never “really talked to” a black person in their lives.12 

Whether or not they are hip hop fans, Indian Americans are paying close attention to the Bollywood trend in mainstream hip hop.  Media time for anything Indian is scarce in this country, so the issue is loaded with an unnatural gravity.  The flow of Indian sounds and samples into hip hop, and the flow of hip hop culture into the Indian American community has thus created a critical crossroads, and increasingly the conduits that carry the flow of music and culture are joined through cross-cultural collaborations.  Raje Shwari, an Indian American singer who has collaborated with Slum Village, Jay-Z, and appears most recently on Timbaland’s “Indian Flute,” says of these artists: “They are making it hip and accepted to be Indian...[and]...what they really ended up doing was breaking down the barriers for artists like me that have always tried to do the East meets West thing.”13  South Asian sounds have, in other words, gained a certain “street credibility” through the work of artists like Erick Sermon, Jay-Z, and Truth Hurts, setting the stage for outfits like Rukus Avenue to reach a larger audience.

Likewise, African American hip hop artists are becoming more aware of their Indian American fan base.  At the height of  its popularity, Truth Hurts recreated her video “Addictive” as a live stage show at the 2002 Bollywood Awards before a capacity crowd of South Asians in Long Island’s Nassau Coliseum.  Not dissuaded by the lawsuit, Truth Hurts remarked: “I think us just sampling Indian music and trying to make it our own gets cheesy after a while...I’m definitely going to have Indian people in my [next] video and show the culture.”14  Whether or not South Asian sounds in mainstream hip hop are simply this year’s flavor, the positive direction of these recent “face-to-face” collaborations suggests that the lasting legacy of this trend may yet be a deeper understanding between these previously disparate cultures.

University of California, Los Angeles


Notes

1 Excerpted from his online article, “Kaliyon ka Chaman [Lata Mangeshkar] Vs. Addictive [Truth Hurts],” <denunge.dk/article/articleview/1235/1/35>; accessed 15 August 2003.

2 Bhangra, originally a Punjabi folk music (and dance), was transformed in the South Asian diaspora setting of the U.K. beginning in the 1970s.  Traditional percussion instruments were retained as electronic instruments were added, forming a new genre called “Bhangra-pop,” which was itself fused with house and techno electronic dance music styles in the late 1980s and 1990s.

3 Sunaina Maira, “Henna and Hip Hop: The Politics of Cultural Production and the Work of Cultural Studies,” Journal of Asian American Studies 3/3 (2000): 329-369.

4 Sammy Chand, interview with author, 12 September 2003.

5 As quoted in “Federal court lawsuit claims that hit single ‘Addictive’ borrows from Hindi song by B. Lahiri” (Reuters), News India-Times.com, online edition (8 November 2002); accessed 15 August 2003.

6  In all fairness, it must be remembered that, as Peter Manuel points out in Cassette Culture: Popular Music and Technology in Northern India (University of Chicago Press, 1993), the Bollywood film industry has a long history of borrowing and adapting music from the West.

7 Tina Chadha, “Mix This: Young South Asians’ Love-Hate Relationship with Hip-Hop’s New Indian Beats,” The Village Voice (2-8 July 2003): 48.

8 Raj Beri, e-mail interview with author, 8 September 2003.

9 In response to this criticism, I find it interesting that those charging cultural imperialism do not seem to consider the fact that those who stand accused do not fit the usual imperialist profile.  On the contrary, they are African Americans, an historically oppressed group, “Othered” within the West.

10 Chris Fitzpatrick, “Boom Go the Bombs, Boom Goes the Bass,” Music Video Review, Pop Matters (11 June 2002), <popmatters.com/music/videos/t/truthhurts-addictive.shtml>; accessed 15 August 2003.

11 Chand, interview with author.

12 Nitasha Sharma, “Rotten Coconuts and Other Strange Fruit: A Slice of Hip Hop from the West Coast,” SAMAR 14 (2001): 30-32.

13 Quoted in Peta Cooper, “Raje Shwari: Making Waves in Western Music,” Desiclub.com, Music Features, n.d. (2003), <www.desiclub.com>; accessed 2 September 2003.

14 Quoted in Chadha.