Nothing but wind

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Nothing But Wind

1. Singing Self - Music belongs not so much to musicians but to all people. While a composer may write a work for a particular cause, or to honor a specific patron, the former in the field sings for the sheer joy of it. In 'The singing self' Ilaiyaraaja celebrates the spirit of spontaneous music-making that exists in all of us.

2. Mozart I Love You - Mozart's music is loved world-wide, and it had a great impact on Ilaiyaraaja. in this work the Indian composer pays tribute to Mozart's greatness, echoing his many moods, from gentle and introspective to joyously exuberant.

3. Song of Soul - A calm, beautiful melody comes from the deepest recesses of the soul; floating above a repeated bass, it brings peace alike to composer, player, and listener. Ilaiyaraaja's music here portrays a soul truely at peace with itself. Lovely as the music is at first hearing. It becomes even more beautiful when heard again and again.

4. Composers Breath - To the gifted composer music is the breath of life, and it comes to him as naturally as breathing. The simplest melody can turn into a complex, gushing stream as inspiration takes over. Here, a flute's plaintive pentatonic melody lures other instruments into joining in; soon, raga follows raga, in an outpouring of art.

5. Nothing But Wind - Ilaiyaraaja here powerfully expresses the conflict between modern civilization and mankind. Inspired by the chirping of birds and crickets, and the rustling of the wind through bamboo thickets, man first cut himself a bamboo flute, and developed music. But those pastoral times passed as life became more complex and ever more industrialized; first the train, then the plane, then the jet helped speed the process. Today, we hear the roar of rocket engines blasting off for the stars. On the one hand we seek relief from these pressures by reaching out to divinity through chants and mantras; on the other, we distract ourselves with disco music and earthly pleasures. Yet our society will self-destruct; and after the inevitable holocaust the musician will lay down his flute, unable any longer to play, convinced in spite of himself that music is, after all, Nothing But Wind.

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