<p>Let me admit at the outset, I am a sucker for instrumental versions of popular songs, especially Bollywood songs of the 50s and the 60s (though these are hard to come by). Vividh Bharati though had (still has) a treasure chest full of these instrumental versions and when you least expected it, a bona fide gem would be played (and often truncated to announce the next programme). YouTube, of course, has no such compulsions — if you go looking for instrumental versions, you can well spend the entire day drowned in listening pleasure. But, but. A word of caution. Not all of them pass muster. And how does one sift the grain from the chaff?</p>.<p>As it so happens, there is no defined way. You go along, you hear something, you like, you save and you hear another and feel bleh enough to log out of your browser (the internet version of running away a mile, I suppose).</p>.<p>The cover versions by this little-known band of three (sometimes four) though, will make you sit tight, lean back and move with the groove, as they say. They call themselves the All Time Music Factory, but often they play in the most unfactory-like set-ups — a violin-heavy angsty version of <span class="italic">Mere Naam Tu</span> from the movie Zero in a cramped living room; an expansive cover of <span class="italic">Unakkenna Venum Sollu</span> from the Tamil movie <span class="italic">Yennai Arindhaal,</span> standing on the edge of a rocky beach...you get my drift. Though most of their versions are pleasing to the ears, I specially fell in love with <span class="italic">Mere Naam Tu</span>.</p>.<p>There is something innocent, earnest and endearing about the cover — the magic perhaps lies in the way the piano takes a step back but never lets go, while the violin dominates, giving the version a sharp pathos that’s nowhere to be found in the original Bollywood track.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">Play By Ear</span></strong> <em><span class="italic">showcases a potential earworm every week for you, the discerning listener, who is on the hunt for some musical serendipity.</span></em></p>
<p>Let me admit at the outset, I am a sucker for instrumental versions of popular songs, especially Bollywood songs of the 50s and the 60s (though these are hard to come by). Vividh Bharati though had (still has) a treasure chest full of these instrumental versions and when you least expected it, a bona fide gem would be played (and often truncated to announce the next programme). YouTube, of course, has no such compulsions — if you go looking for instrumental versions, you can well spend the entire day drowned in listening pleasure. But, but. A word of caution. Not all of them pass muster. And how does one sift the grain from the chaff?</p>.<p>As it so happens, there is no defined way. You go along, you hear something, you like, you save and you hear another and feel bleh enough to log out of your browser (the internet version of running away a mile, I suppose).</p>.<p>The cover versions by this little-known band of three (sometimes four) though, will make you sit tight, lean back and move with the groove, as they say. They call themselves the All Time Music Factory, but often they play in the most unfactory-like set-ups — a violin-heavy angsty version of <span class="italic">Mere Naam Tu</span> from the movie Zero in a cramped living room; an expansive cover of <span class="italic">Unakkenna Venum Sollu</span> from the Tamil movie <span class="italic">Yennai Arindhaal,</span> standing on the edge of a rocky beach...you get my drift. Though most of their versions are pleasing to the ears, I specially fell in love with <span class="italic">Mere Naam Tu</span>.</p>.<p>There is something innocent, earnest and endearing about the cover — the magic perhaps lies in the way the piano takes a step back but never lets go, while the violin dominates, giving the version a sharp pathos that’s nowhere to be found in the original Bollywood track.</p>.<p><strong><span class="bold">Play By Ear</span></strong> <em><span class="italic">showcases a potential earworm every week for you, the discerning listener, who is on the hunt for some musical serendipity.</span></em></p>