20: ‘Sun Re’: Abbas Ali Khan
Ah, the pretension, the pretension. Abbas is yet another in the long line of young Pakistani pop apologists, who (supposedly) tweak the usual blend of bad kitsch pop with laughable allusions to “eastern classical music” and worn out “arty” themes. In the end seeming a lot sillier than the usual pop lot.
19: ‘Rangeen’: Ali Zafar
Zafar’s debut album, Huqa Paani, is a roaring success when it comes to some highly enjoyable bhangra-meets-techno-meets-Kishore (!) outings. However, this dud then sticks out in the mix like a sore thumb. A thumb that looks like it’d been scoring more time in a dumb male model’s nostril than in anything a bit more meaningful or musical.
18: ‘Hum Jeetain Gay’: Vital Signs
The Signs were a pretty decent sounding FM-Pop act and apart from letting loose the occasional streams of drool at the sight of Pepsi, they could do nothing wrong when it came to making and selling good, solid pop. That is, only if you forgave them for sometimes generating lame patriotic duds in an attempt to equal their first claim to fame ‘Dil Dil Pakistan’. The worst in this respect can be found as the opening ditty on their last album. It is obnoxious! Not only because it is a pretty flat and forgettable composition, but also the way it so unabashedly takes a rather chauvinistic and sickeningly rosy route in propagating its patriotism. Shame. An early symptom of JJ’s eventual socio-religious meltdown, perhaps?
17: ‘Lamhey’: Atif
It was exhausting watching ex-Jal singer Atif going the whole ninety-nine yards in trying to upstage his former band every step of the way, even though many actually did admire him for his solo daring, talent and passion. However, soon enough the man started to take himself a bit too seriously for a soothing pop-rocker, even to the extent of starting to make scary Najamesque statements such as when recently he aired his desire to say the azaan in Madina. All this and the fact that his version of Jal’s otherwise rather enjoyable ‘Lamhey’ confirms a creeping fear: Our man of the hour, Atif, is setting himself up rather well to one day (when he is in his late thirties), decide to grace us with an album full of naats. And why not, one listen to his version of ‘Lamhey’ and you are convinced Atif will definitely make a more convincing naatkhuaan (albeit with a drum-machine) than a pop crooner. Which is fine, as long as he promises to do so in a far away cave on the scorched peaks of Tora Bora!
16: ‘Suno Kay Main Hoon Jawan’: Noori
One of the most promising acts to come out from the screwy “underground” rock scene in the country, Noori ironically went all lush and mush over corporate sponsorship and the tone and style of music they chose on their debut album. This title number from the dreadfully pubescent album is a fine example. An example of a supposedly edgy rock act willfully deflating the image (presumably for the matter of smug commercial pragmatics) and gleefully replacing it with a smily likeness for a look and sound smacking of sugary corporate-pop pedophilia. Apparently Ali Noor has now grown a jailer’s beard to escape detection. Smart lad.
15: ‘Sohniye’: Strings
Strings are huge in Pakistan. And they have become even bigger than Junoon ever was in India, mostly due to their nice-guy-approach and lovely lil’ pop tunes. All this is well and good until one of these nice lil’ tunes is gradually turned into something like a big bad tummy bug by all those nauseating FM channels out there. ‘Soniye’ is a classic case of a likeable pop softy being played over and over again until it starts tasting like that awful, completely indigestive daal fry you once had at a run down railway station of some obscure town in Balochistan. If only this song would now become as obscure.
14: ‘Aas Paas’: Atif & Hadiqa
Ever since the release of her third album, the once elusive Pakistani pop diva Hadiqa has been more interested in expanding her designer wardrobe than the promise she showed on her first two albums. And then this! That too with the latest Pakistani tearjerker, Atif. This just has to be the worst example of a pop duet concerning two well-known singers, and is easily the most directionless and tuneless pop song this side of Billy Ray Cyrus’ ‘Achy Breaky Heart’. Horrible.
13: ‘Sub Tu Soniye’: Faakhir
He maybe short in height but never short of having the audacious ambition of actually covering a classic Noorjehan song and making a terrible meal out of it. He could have grown in stature had he attempted a couple of pull-ups at the gym instead.
12: ‘Mehendi’: Jawad Ahmed
Typical Pak-Indo soap opera pop by a man who was once known for his passionate sufi-pop wailings. Sounds like an extended advertising jingle for a high-flying, highbrow rishta service. A service trying hard to convince the populace that life is a Rooh Afza bubble where the emphasis is on scenes and images of meeting kunwara men/women with the basic urge of mating being the driving emotion. What do you mean only animals and insects mate?
11: ‘Bo Kaata’: Fariha Pervez
A useless little tune celebrating basant festivities of Lahore. Only good for bugging fat MMA puritans who’d rather see people doing the halwa than the bhangra and launch rockets than kites on basant.
10: ‘Yeh Mamla Kuch Aur Hai’: Najam Shiraz
Yeh Najam koi aur hai. Subhaanallah, subhanallah…
What is a naat doing in this list of pop songs, you may ask? But then what is a pop singer doing reciting one?
9: ‘Nachna’: Shahzaman
Tulsi Pan Masala heavily sponsored this wholly formulaic bhangra dud on the tele. Surprised? Me neither. As if shopping mall capitalism wasn’t bad enough, now here comes the pop-friendly Joria Bazaar sarmayadars! No escape.
8: ‘Dil Se’: Haroon
This easily (and deservingly) forgettable patriotic pop flop was given a new lease of life when the always-enterprising former Awaz vocalist Haroon gleefully sold it to Lifebuoy. Of course, this also meant that we had to sit through it on every second Pakistani tele channel and FM station for many months. Sitting there and cursing the Signs for starting the never-ending tradition of pop acts putting out the obligatory patriotic number, singing about Pakistan as if it was a popular angel and hoor resort beside the rivers of milk in heaven. Thus, won’t be an overstatement if I suggest, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKES GUYS, STOP ALREADY!!
7: ‘Chaandni Raatain’: Ali Haider
He’s still around and still making soft little nothings. The only difference being that some ten years ago, these nothings actually sounded fun. Now, however, they sound anything but. I mean, the last big thing in the last five years you remember about Haider’s music is actually that ‘sex scandal’ he got himself in with that model. I believe he should now concentrate his energies more on editing tabloid newspapers than waste his (and our) time churning out hopeless variants of the neo-filmi-pop formula he first pioneered way back in the early '90s.
6: ‘Pakistani’: Saleem Javed
No, really? Always thought you were an Uzbekistani. At least the thigh movements certainly suggest a nationality South of Moscow, if you know what I mean?
5: ‘Lady Magic’: Junoon
Ali Azmat has been one of Pakistan’s most exciting and talented vocalists, until he is poked by Salman Ahmed to sing in English. Because ironically, this is the only time his heavy Punjabi accent comes into play! Couple this with a hollow composition, in the finest tradition of the stunningly bad '80s hair-metal, and you have a ghastly pop-rock tune in hand. The only problem is this was recorded in 1990 and not 1984. What was Salman thinking (and/or popping)?
4: ‘Dil Dil Pakistan’: Mizraab
The more daring and experimental among us thought this was an interesting idea. A local prog-metal act covering a classic Signs’ pop ditty. Well, just a few seconds into the song and many would (and did!) start screaming bloody murder! Some even went to the extent of calling it blasphemy. Well, I simply called this perhaps the most tuneless, unimaginative noise made on tape by a band that is led by a supposed guitar prodigy. Yes, but then back in the '80s Yngwie Malmsteen was also called a guitar prodigy until Day-Glo leather pants went out of fashion.
3: ‘Pari’: Dino
He’s that sweety-pie, nice guy DJ on telly, right? He also sings. Or has decided to. This song you shall like if you are a tolerant R&B fan. However, if you have no illusions about bad, rubbery corporate R&B of the likes of TLC, Black Eyed Peas (and a million more), and believe that it is not even worth Marvin Gaye’s broken left toe nail, then you’ll understand exactly what this ditty is doing loitering around this prestigious little list of mine.
2: ‘Khwab 2003’: Junoon
Question: What is more horrible than accidentally seeing Mullah Omar in his underwear?
Answer: Listening to Salman Ahmed sing!
1: ‘Mahiya Merey’: Mishi Khan
There are two kinds of bad music. Bad music by pretty okay musicians (like the ones making this list). And then there is bad music by equally bad musicians (like the ones that would require a separate, 200ft list and for which I have neither time nor energy). But then there is Mishi Khan. A former model and TV actress who one day decided to cut a few pop songs. So far all have been terrible. But this one takes the cake in utter, pathetic hogwash pop! And I think this hopelessly gassed out tune also came with a video in which the always ‘halthy’ looking Mishi is pounding across the desserts outside Dubai doing what seems like a Mama Cass take on the bhangra! Scary.
NFP does it again. This guy is very talented. If only drugs didn’t have a hold on him. sigh
Junoon is a rock back not a pop band. They are in par with the likes of Led Zepplin, U2, Queen etc.
