The article's author posits that the Bollywood industry is facing a kind of musical amnesia, as despite nostalgic recollections of great songs, it tends to repeat and borrow from the past rather than create original material.
It is emphasized that for connoisseurs of Indian music, the moment of nostalgia often serves as proof that Bollywood once knew how to create songs, whereas now only rhyming announcements appear. This is particularly painful for those who believe that a film song should be an integral part of the narrative, not just a decorative element between acts.
In classic Hindi films, the song was organically connected to the plot, rather than suddenly appearing due to a planned musical launch. The author recalls golden eras: 50s films like 'Shree 420' and 'Pyaasa', 60s like 'Guide' and 'Teesri Manzil', 70s with 'Pakeezah' and 'Kabhie Kabhie', 80s with 'Silsila' and 'Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak', and 90s with 'Aashiqui' and 'Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge', followed by 'Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham' and 'Devdas'. These albums possessed a unique identity, being genuine musical entities, not products created for TikTok or Instagram algorithms.
Music composers such as Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy and their successors, in the author's view, did not produce 'content,' but rather composed music. A list of such composers is provided, including Naushad, SD Burman and his son RD Burman, Laxmikant Pyarelal, Kalyanji Anandji, Anu Malik, Jatin-Lalit, Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, and others, who created music, not 'content.' The author notes that they had time for experimentation, the ability to reject a melody, or allow the lyrics to 'breathe.'
Today, the industry often employs so-called 'reimaginings,' bringing old melodies back in a new guise. However, the author draws a distinction between inspiration and 'musical taxidermy.' He recalls how RD Burman's 'Dum Maro Dum' and Asha Bhosle sounded daring, like the discovery of a new linguistic form by two outstanding artists, rather than a product requiring producer approval.
Recent statements reflect general dissatisfaction: Salim Merchant complained about the lack of originality and the disappearance of the eternal melody, while Vishal Bhardwaj objected to using more than one composer in a soundtrack, believing it strips it of identity. Shankar Mahadevan warned not to blame the composer if the producer or company demands a familiar hit, and Pritam openly spoke about fatigue with the Bollywood mechanism, similar to Amaal Mallik, who prioritizes artistic integrity even if it costs him projects.
The situation is exacerbated by large music companies preferring not to take risks, utilizing the success of others' works, and replacing it with nostalgia. Bollywood is beginning to approach music like an archaeologist discovering a profitable burial site, which is evident in the recent 'excavation' of 90s songs. Although the author acknowledges the value of well-thought-out recreations, such as in 'Dhurandhar,' he insists on the difference between inspiration and superficial use.
Songs in great Hindi films drove the plot; they could convey the genesis of love, tell more than dialogues, reveal character, or hide pain behind a melody. This function has been largely lost. Even the lip-sync song, once a genius invention, is now viewed negatively. Modern filmmakers often prefer songs that exist outside the narrative—for dancing and promotion, after which they are easily forgotten. When a song ceases to be part of the story, the story loses one of its most powerful emotional tools.
The culmination of this crisis was Arijit Singh's decision to decline new vocal assignments, stating his fatigue and desire to pursue independent music so as not to sing what labels dictate. This move is seen as a symbolic call to review the factory itself, not just the worker.
The author remains optimistic, believing that sometimes someone ignores the formula and creates something sincere. The problem with Bollywood, in his opinion, is not that it has forgotten how to make beautiful music, but that it is afraid to create something new. The industry needs not another old song in designer glasses, but a new album bold enough to become someone's old song.



