🎶 A Life in Music: From Radios to Records

 

My Passions

I’ve spoken at length in earlier blogs about two big passions of my life: books and cinema. Another passion that has been a constant companion is music. For many of us, music is inseparable from life itself. It entertains, meditates, exhilarates, and sometimes brings a touch of melancholy. Music makes us dance, uplifts our spirits, and often moves us to tears. Truly, life would be empty without it.

Unlike books or films, when we recall a song, we don’t just remember it—we hum it, sing it, and relive it. Such is the impact of music on our lives.

Childhood Encounters with Music

While I enjoy different genres, my heart belongs to Bollywood music, especially the oldies from the 1950s to the 1970s. As a child, however, I was hilariously “dumb” about music. I didn’t realize songs had meaning. Much to my elder sister’s irritation, I would sing random, meaningless words, insisting that songs were just tunes—sad when the hero was sad, happy when he was happy. Looking back, I’m convinced she could have pleaded justifiable homicide for my antics!

By the time I was a teenager, though, I was immersed in music. I adored the magnificent voice of Kishore Kumar (Kishoreda). In the late 70s, I spent Rs. 2—a princely sum for a child without pocket money—on a small book of his famous hits. I would lock myself in my parents’ bedroom and belt out his songs at the top of my voice, ignoring my sister and aunt’s pleas to stop the “awful noise.” Methinks they were just jealous!

I vividly recall listening to Kishoreda's and Lataji's songs from Amar Prem or Mohammad Rafi’s melodious voice in Geet and Jeene Ki Raah. I was only three years old then, perched under a huge radio on the wall. Once, convinced that two men and two women lived inside our transistor, I broke open the back—only to find wires and batteries. My confusion was priceless.

I loved the duets of Kishore-Lata-Asha, Rafi-Lata-Asha, as well as those featuring the great Mukesh. Honestly, as a kid I didn’t like Mukesh much, but once I grew older, I appreciated his music.

Discovering English Music

My first English song came courtesy of my mother: Que Sera Sera by Doris Day. Later, my paternal uncle introduced me to albums on his Panasonic stereo—ABBA, Boney M, and Nazia Hassan’s Disco Deewane. His kindness in lugging that stereo across Bombay just to entertain us kids remains unforgettable.

Listening to ABBA’s Voulez-Vous, Chiquitita, Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! and I Have a Dream (my mother’s lifelong favorite) was pure joy. Boney M’s Daddy Cool and Rasputin added rhythm to our days. 

In the early 80s, my father returned from Muscat with a Philips stereo and cassettes of Rafi, Kishoreda, and even Western movie themes (The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, The Bridge on the River Kwai). But the crown jewel was Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Owning Beat It made me the coolest kid on the block.

Growing Musical Horizons

As I grew older, I added more singers: Wham with George Michael, Stevie Wonder’s I Just Called to Say I Love You, Lionel Richie’s Hello. While I grooved to rock, I struggled to catch the lyrics, so I leaned toward soft rock, ballads, and country. Engelbert Humperdinck and Kenny Rogers remain my favorites in those genres. And of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my love for the phenomenal Freddie Mercury and his band Queen.

I also discovered the timeless crooners Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, whose smooth voices and classic melodies added elegance and charm to my listening journey. Their music taught me that simplicity, when paired with emotion, can be profoundly powerful.

Yet my first love has always been Bollywood. I admire Shankar-Jaikishan, Laxmikant-Pyarelal, S.D. Burman, and Rajesh Roshan, but I am most partial to the legendary R.D. Burman (RD). A colleague once pointed out that many of the songs I loved were RD compositions. He taught me the difference between hearing and listening. For that, I remain indebted.

As I grew older, I learned to appreciate the voices of the newer generation. I had the opportunity to attend a concert of Asha Bhonsle in the early 90s. Accompanying her was a young kid of 20 years who introduced himself as Sonu Nigam. He was a newbie and hadn’t had a single release of his songs till then. But listening to his melodious voice entranced me, and I remember predicting that this boy was bound to make it big. And boy, did he!

I love other singers too—Udit Narayan, Shaan, Abhijeet, to name a few. Among female voices, I absolutely adore Shreya Ghosal. I honestly believe that the goddess of music resides in her throat. I am completely mesmerized when I hear her voice. She is the one singer whose live performance I would love to attend. Fingers crossed.

Reflections

I truly believe that without music, life would be empty and bereft of joy. As Nietzsche once remarked: “Without music, life would be a mistake.”

Music uplifts us, comforts us in sorrow, and anchors memories of childhood, friendships, and family. Science even confirms what we feel: music releases dopamine, reduces stress hormones, and regulates heart rate.

So, my friends, listen to music—and perhaps increase your lifespan. I’ve shared some playlists of my favorite songs below. Maybe you’ll enjoy them too.

📌 Playlists

• Playlist 1: Eric’s Top 27 60’s Bollywood Hits (Part 3)
• Playlist 2: Eric’s Mixed 100 Greatest Hits 2
• Playlist 3: Eric’s English Soft & Country Mix List
• Playlist 4: Eric’s Top 27 70’s Bollywood Hits (Part 3)