The eMusic Dozen: Bollywood

A wonderfully cheesy soundtrack, with Asha Bhosle sounding sexily kittenish on a score by her husband, R.D. Burman. From the faintly psychedelic attempt at rock on "Dum Maro Dum" (reprised in a lengthy live version) to a strangely Chinese influence on "Ghungroo Ka Bole" and a take on cowboy music that's plain bizarre, this is a disc very much of its time -- the early '70s. Spy guitar meets hippies and pastoral melodies somewhere in the Himalayas, making for a real kitsch classic.

In 1985 this film broke plenty of ground with its extensive location shooting, and in turn the soundtrack became a huge success. There's a lush, sweeping scope to much of the music, like "Main Hi Main Hoon" where strings (and accordion!) back Suresh Wadkar's romantic vocals for a piece in which the balmy Mediterranean meets the arid Indian plains. Pride of place throughout, however, remains with Lata Mangeshkar's glorious singing, and Ravindra Jain's epic score allows her plenty of room to emote.

A classic from 1959, when Bollywood was still called "Hindi cinema." With its jarring changes of pace, Shanker Jainshan's score sometimes brings to mind Raymond Scott's work on Warner Brothers cartoons, especially on "Nineteen Fifty Six." But there are plenty of lovely melodies in here too, and Mukesh carried home a Playback Singer of the Year for his work on this film. Ineffably Indian but reaching out to the ideas of composers like Leonard Bernstein, it manages to sound both familiar and exotic.

This award-winning film from 2000 dealt with social upheaval in modern Indian society, but still managed to have a wonderful score by relative newcomers Bhatt and Singh. There's an open innocence about much of the music, straying from the playful to the achingly lyrical. A new generation of playback singers (not a Bhosle or Mangeshkar to be heard!) gets to flex its muscles, and proves every bit as good and moving as its forebears, with Deepti Naval a standout.

An enduring classic from 1955, this soundtrack contains the song "Mera Joota Hai Japani," sung by Mukesh, an early expression of Indian pride in the movies. A vibrant, uplifting collection of songs from the pens of Shanker and Jaikishan that doesn't pretend to be anything more than classy Indian pop, but succeeds perfectly at that. Graced by the virtually ubiquitous talents of Asha Bhosle and Lata Mangeshkar and often surprisingly modern in structure and ideas, there's nothing in the least dated about this work.

The biggest Bollywood film of 1995 was set not in India, but in Europe, and the score, by the team of Jatin and Lalit, matches the movie's reputation. Alongside "Tujhe Dekha To," the justly famed duet between Lata Mangeshkar (in one of her very best performances) and Kumar Sanu, you get gems like "Ruk Ja O Dil Deewane," which mixes strings, rockabilly guitars, a choir and mariachi trumpets -- and works like a dream.

The '80s have often been described as Bollywood's uninspired decade, but you wouldn't know it from Karma. Sweeping, dramatic strings and tabla mix with Greek bouzouki and a choir -- and that's simply the first track. The melodies might be simple, but they're innocently infectious, clinging close to their Indian roots, yet remaining quite accessible to Western ears -- a tasty, mild aural curry (but "Maine Rab Se Tujhe" does take a wonderful left turn into the bizarre).

Every song from R.D. Burman's score to The Guide (1966) was a hit, powered by the ample talents of Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar. The tracks are pretty confections, all strongly rooted in the Indian subcontinent, although the lovely, soft "Din Dhal Jaye" could almost stand as early Western folk-rock. Completely irresistible (except for the strange, choral "He Ram"), with every piece a crafted gem whose melody sticks to the brain. It might not break any new musical ground, but it remains a '60s Bollywood classic.

A soundtrack that ranges easily between the delicate and the stirring, with the great composer S.D. Burman building layer upon layer of melody into his songs. "Mora Gora Ang Layi" offers a strange but endearing Greek-Indian fusion, while "O Janewale Ho Sake" seems inspired by traditional Irish music, viewed through a peculiarly Indian prism. There's an appealing, unpretentious charm in its lack of sophistication, and the songs sit easily on the ear.

Generally regarded as one of the great Indian films, this 1993 epic portrays a lovely story against the backdrop of the Indian uprising against Britain. R.D. Burman's score -- released posthumously -- is possibly his finest. The wonderfully light melodies touch the heart, never more strongly than on "Kuchh Na Kaho (Sad)," with the great Lata Mangeshkar never sounding better. The slow, gentle music emerges hazily and floats away on the air like a gauzy dream.