Introduction
Music has been significant in understanding society’s social and symbolic order. Not only the lyrics but the performances embedded in this context become a vehicle through which culture is constructed, mirrored, reinforced, and transformed. The culture of music is embedded within the shared societal imagination, which dictates the performer, their performance, the style, and its interpretations. Individuals internalise musical meanings through socialisation and reinforcement of ideal-hegemonic-normative musical representations, reflecting socio-cultural and political contexts. The culture of music is predetermined, which typifies certain stereotypes, binaries, and normative ideas.
In discussions about music, the limited language/terminology available for illustrating its symbolic qualities often disregards the voice and its timbral significance. On the other hand, misreading occurs when the lyrical content – existing in a different symbolic structure (that of language) – is considered the primary signifier of musical meanings. Voice can be qualitative and representative. It can be a distinctive analytical category when we consider certain qualities of it, such as the tone, timbre, vocal range, and the way of articulation. The representation of certain voices sets forth the myriad possibilities of interpreting the cultural, social, and political layers that construct the discourse of music. In the semiotic analysis of ‘sound’ (not just the musical sound), the utterances of words carry certain importance, and the way they are articulated is indeed a matter of concern (Goffman Reference Goffman1981; Hill Reference Hill1985; Keane Reference Keane2000; Weidman Reference Weidman2014). Vocal practices, including everyday speech, song, verbal play, ritual speech, oratory, and recitation, can be viewed as modes of practice and discipline that, in their repeated enactment, may performatively bring into being classed, gendered, political, ethnic, or religious subjects (Bate Reference Bate2009; Bourdieu Reference Bourdieu1991; Hirschkind Reference Hirschkind2006; Inoue Reference Inoue2002; Kuipers Reference Kuipers1998; Minks Reference Minks2008; Sugarman Reference Sugarman1997; Weidman Reference Weidman2014).
In semiotics, the system of language is the subject of analysis. It has a prescribed normative structure and material attributes that are considered for analysis. These attributes are visible, audible, and concrete. On the other hand, music is not a tangible phenomenon; it is an experience of the mind. Thus, when venturing into a semiotic analysis of music, we analyse the ‘sonic phenomenon’ as the subject. The sonic phenomenon is an abstract idea; a voice distanced from its body. Sonic representation signifies the socio-cultural significations exhibited by a specific sound or voice. Performance embodies the voice, and this embodied voice directs cultural representations of a sonic phenomenon.
Barthes (Reference Barthes1991) attempts to theorise the sonic significance in a semiotic approach to understanding the voice. The pleasure of listening to music, the jouissance, comes not from the melodies or the words but from the material voice, which he calls ‘the grain of voice’. The grain of voice is not merely its timbre; ‘the “grain” is the body in the voice as it sings’ (Barthes Reference Barthes1991). Voice, therefore, is the material embodiment of social and cultural ideologies and experiences (Feld et al. Reference Feld, Fox, Porcello, Samuels and Duranti2004, p. 332). Voice can embody certain qualities or index particular subjectivities or identities (Weidman Reference Weidman2014). Sound becomes central to this discussion as musical sound repeatedly uses cultural signifiers that can point towards certain cultural qualities, such as race, class, origin, and geography (ibid.).
The method of ‘voicing’ and playback singing
Music production in the Indian subcontinent differs from independent music productions, as popular music works alongside the film industry, and the music sequences hold greater importance to the narrative. The film-music industry in India is massive in terms of production, popularity, and reception by the majority. The Indian audience is familiar with the concept of ‘playback singing’ as most of the vocalists are recognised as ‘playback singers’. Technological advancements in the field of music production have divided ‘playback singers’ and ‘actors’ into two distinct professional roles (Booth Reference Booth, Booth and Shope2013; Majumdar Reference Majumdar2001):
The term playback refers to a system that relies on the technical capacity to separately record and subsequently synchronise aural and visual tracks in the production of the song sequences that are a central part of Indian popular films. Playback singers are so-called because their voices are first recorded in the studio and then ‘played back’ on the set as the visuals of the song sequence are filmed. (Weidman Reference Weidman2021, p. 1)
The singing voice (off-screen voice) is different from the actors’ speaking voice (on-screen body) and a kind of alignment between the off-screen voice and the on-screen body is expected from the audience (Majumdar Reference Majumdar2001). Bollywood songs, having methodological roots in western orchestration, are systematically structured with multiple instruments and a lead vocal. The music composer decides the entire structure and arrangement of the song, including the required mood, melody, and presentation, to ensure the effectiveness of the visuals. The basic melody is deliberately kept simple, with minimal embellishments, to create a ‘hummable’ melody (Ranade Reference Ranade2006). The singer’s role is limited solely to the sonic deliverance of the pre-composed melody and, therefore, delivers the voice that is expected to be appropriate for the character to whom s/he is giving the ‘voice’ (Weidman Reference Weidman2021). The identity of the singer matters less, and it should not be reflected in playback singing as it animates the identity of the character on screen. The embodied voice is thus disembodied and animated or personified to another character, their identity, and the context, both socio-cultural and cinematic. Assigning the ‘right’ voice to the ‘right’ body became one of the important characteristics of the film-music industry (Majumdar Reference Majumdar2001; Weidman Reference Weidman2021). In the 1960s and 1970s Bollywood, a noticeable typecasting emerged, particularly concerning ‘item numbers’, which were overtly sexualised song-and-dance sequences (Brara Reference Brara2010). Producers invited some singers to sing these item numbers, while others exclusively lent their voices to the more chaste heroine characters (Weidman Reference Weidman, Weintraub and Barendregt2017, Reference Weidman2021). This typification created an alignment between the moral licitness of the characters’ identities and the tone and style of the singers’ voices. Although technology paved the way for the disembodiment of the voice, yet, in the modern period, producers, performers, and consumers jointly engage in a dogmatic design of vocal re-attachment by anchoring the voice to socially definable embodied subjects (Bucholtz Reference Bucholtz2011; Chion Reference Chion and Gorbman1999; Majumdar Reference Majumdar2001). Voice, when disembodied from its subjective identity (the singer’s voice) and re-attached to another material body (the actor’s voice), becomes instrumental to alterations and cultural reconfigurations.
This work examines the construction of a gendered voice in the Malayalam popular music industry by tracing the historical trajectory of the ‘voice’ in the modern musical arena. Considering the significance of the tone, timbre, and vocal ranges of the singers, the analysis delves into the representation/juxtaposition of vocal identities to certain social identities. Using discourse analysis as the method, this study explores the musical text, its context within films, the way voices are embodied for specific characters, and the representations of gender. In-depth interviews conducted with experts during September and October 2022 have added more credibility to the analysis. The participants of this study include prominent singers of the Malayalam film-music industry since the 1990s and cultural critics who have worked extensively on music, culture, and history of Kerala. The interviews were conducted in the Malayalam language, and the quotations included in this article are translations or paraphrasing of the responses. Conversations mostly focused on concepts such as the distinction between the social identity and the singing identity of the musicians, the social situation of Kerala in the construction and representation of a gendered voice, the representation of certain vocal qualities as ‘other’, and the question of licit and illicit voices. Secondary sources were used to analyse the musical content of drama songs and film songs starting from the 1950s to the beginning of the 21st century. In this article, we do not aim for a comprehensive scrutiny of all the musical productions during the period mentioned above, as such an endeavour would be beyond our expertise; rather, we endeavour to highlight some of the significant trends in Malayalam popular music over this 70-year period.
The trajectory of voices in the popular music of Kerala
Theatre era: The voice of resistance
The socio-political context of Kerala in the 1950s was revolutionary, marking the awakening of Communist ideology. The working class of Kerala had initiated their protest against feudalism and British colonialism even earlier, in 1944 (Mohandas Reference Mohandas2002). This movement spread widely across society and was reflected in various social and cultural discourses. Political activism, at that time, went hand in hand with cultural activities. A cultural critic (PC1) stated that the deep association between the social and political revolutionary movements that emerged during the Renaissance brought about great changes in society.Footnote 1 The art and culture sector has also made specific contributions to these activities. These activities were supported by a philosophy that upheld humanitarian values (Mohandas Reference Mohandas2002). The formation of the Kerala People’s Arts Club (KPAC) was a huge breakthrough in theatre.Footnote 2 Their intentions were more reformatory than artistic. KPAC addressed the common people’s issues through their visual narratives and music. ‘During the time of KPAC, the nationalist movement was gaining strength in Kerala and so was the anti-feudal movement’ (PC3).Footnote 3 Instead of mythical and epic stories, socially relevant issues were presented in theatres. Their strategy was to popularise political content through music, as music was the easiest way to communicate with a wide range of audiences (Mohandas Reference Mohandas2002; Murali Reference Murali2008). The staging of Thoppil Bhasi’s Ningalenne Communist Aakki (You made me a Communist, 1952) marked a turning point in music production. Until then, Carnatic musicians held a dominant position in musical dramas and it was customary to commence the drama with a prelude by them. Bhasi’s play changed this scenario by replacing the introductory Keerthanam Footnote 4 with melodious background songs (Mohandas Reference Mohandas2002). Transitioning from an elitist disposition, the drama and its music evolved towards a more proletariat context, addressing life struggles and socially relevant themes.
The advent of film music
In its early stages, film songs bore a striking resemblance to theatre music. Singers like Kamukara Purushothaman, K.P. Udayabhanu, A.M. Raja, and P. Leela, who were active during the 1950s, infused the cinematic realm with the same aura found in theatre music. The emergence of actors like Sathyan and Prem Nazir as stars coincided with a shift towards hero-centric narratives, marking a pivotal moment in Malayalam cinema. Subsequently, film music developed its own distinct identity. The arrival of K.J. Yesudas and S. Janaki (in 1953 and 1957, respectively) signalled a breakthrough in the industry, as their voices diverged from those of traditional theatre singers (Murali Reference Murali2008). Music composers such as Dakshinamoorthi Swami and G. Devarajan crafted melodies tailored to the melodious voices of Yesudas and Janaki. The popularity of these singers brought significant economic gains, propelling the evolution of film music into a fully fledged genre during the 20th century.
The new age: A ‘global’ outlook
The nature of music-making advanced at the beginning of the 21st century. The biggest change happened in technology, creating myriad possibilities for music production and distribution. Cross-cultural collaborations or ‘fusion’ music became popular in Kerala by the end of the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st century. One of the major impacts of globalisation is that the Malayali audience became acquainted with western rock music. Even though there were western-influenced songs in Malayalam movies, they always remained ‘out of the norms’ due to their sensuous nature. In the 70s, the Malayalam film-music industry introduced a song genre called ‘disco songs’ or ‘item numbers’, which became an integral part of the films. The song sequences depicted scenes in a club or bar setting where a dancer or singer, whether male or female, delivered a highly eroticised performance. Both the lyrical and visual representations of the songs were overtly sensuous, objectifying the bodies (male and female) (Brara Reference Brara2010). L.R. Eswari received great recognition predominantly for her club songs (Weidman Reference Weidman2021). They were colloquially known as ‘fast numbers’,Footnote 5 which became a sensational spot in the Malayalam cinema. While the orchestration, melodic structure, and lyrical and contextual parts sounded ‘western’, the singing style always remained innately ‘Indian’. It was towards the beginning of the 21st century that the westernised singing style was introduced. Thereafter, the Malayalam industry started to invite singers with diverse vocal timbre. Singers who could sing pop, blues, and rock were introduced to the Malayalam industry as the emerging youth culture leaned towards rock music. Examples include Chitra Iyer, Sayanora Philip, Jyotsna Radhakrishnan, George Peter, Jassie Gift, and Franco Simon, who were prominent during the years 2000-2018. Nevertheless, the traditional style continued to be predominant even after the emergence of these ‘new’ voices that had a significant impact. Along with K.J. Yesudas and S. Janaki, singers like M.G. Sreekumar, K.S. Chitra, G. Venugopal, and Sujatha Mohan continued the style that the former introduced.
Construction of a gendered voice: Gandharvas and Nightingales
Theatres played a profoundly influential role in Kerala’s cultural landscape. They served as catalysts for the construction of collective consciousness and the initiation of larger social movements, primarily through popular arts. The emblem of the KPAC – a working-class man and woman proudly holding a sickle aloft – epitomises the club’s core mission: to be the ‘voice of the voiceless’. Their narratives, rooted in the daily experiences of the working class, were inherently political. Through seemingly ordinary stories, they unveiled a realm of possibilities, shedding light on the struggles of the common people. These dramas stood as acts of resistance against feudal oppression.
The popularity of these dramas increased during the 1950s, largely due to the strategic use of familiarity. Narratives intentionally tried to be populist (Jeffrey Reference Jeffrey1992), aiming to resonate with the masses. According to a musician (PM2), ‘popular music became inevitable in dramas as they began addressing the issues of the commons. Music was an easy way of communicating and connecting with them’.Footnote 6 The lyrics often revolve around themes of labour, featuring imagery of harvesting, nature, birds, and sickle. Another significant aspect is the use of vernacular language, a deliberate populist rebellion against elitist linguistic norms (Murali Reference Murali2008). The protagonists in these plays are typically depicted as serfs labouring under feudal lords. The songs composed for these dramas often echoed the melodies of folk music and Mappila songs,Footnote 7 engaging directly with the common folk (ibid.):
The issues of women were also prominently featured in the works of playwrights like KT Mohammed and VT Bhattathiripad. KT Mohammed’s dramas, in particular, incorporated the musical style of Mappila songs to resonate with Muslim audiences. ‘Theliyatte vilakkukal’ (1953), ‘Mudinarezhay keereettu’ (1953), ‘Kayilukal pidikkana’ (1953) are among the popular ones in this genre (PM1).Footnote 8
The voices of the singers in KPAC might strike modern ears as ‘unfamiliar’ as most singers adapt to an open-throat singing style, albeit not as fully open throat as Qawwali singers.Footnote 9 Some of the interviewees (PM1, PM3, PC3, and PC5) speculated that the absence of an advanced audio system contributed to the open-throat singing style, for acoustic strength.Footnote 10 These ‘folk’ voices also give an impression that they can physically reach over great distances without amplification (Ranade Reference Ranade2006, p. 200):
A voice is said to carry well when the sound of it can be heard plainly in all parts of a large hall or theatre. Some singers are supposed to be endowed with the power of making their ‘lightest whisper’, carry into the uttermost parts of a large auditorium. (Drew Reference Drew1935)
The theatre singers, accustomed to performing for large audiences, harness their vocal strength to amplify their sound. Over time, this style became a hallmark of theatre singing.
Another significant element in their singing style is the delivery of ending sustained notes with a prolonged vibrato or Gamakas, not merely as embellishments but as vocal undulation.Footnote 11 Gamaka is a technique in Indian classical music that employs evident and extended oscillations to enhance renditions and serve to sustain the notes while maintaining vocal strength. The theatre singers made Gamakas sound very noticeable, especially among male voices. Male singers like K.S. George (prominent during the 1950s) exhibited rough and hoarse timbre. Also, the enunciation of words and nasal articulation of certain sound syllables were notable. In songs performed by K.S. George, such as ‘Illimulam kaadukalil’ (1957) and ‘Maarivillin thenmalare’ (1954), the sustaining syllables, particularly /e/ and /m/ sounds, exhibit a nasal quality. Female singers like KPAC Sulochana (debut in 1951) and A.P. Komalam sang in a lower register employing a full voice. In Sulochana’s renditions of songs like ‘Thalakku Meethe Shoonyakasham’ (1962) and ‘Ambili ammava’ (1957), the partial nasal pronunciation of sounds, such as /ɔ:/, imparts a ‘folkish’ quality to both songs, echoing the colloquial speech sounds. Similarly, in the song ‘Vellaramkunnile’ (1952), the usage of /e/ and /a:/ sounds closely resembles common speech sounds of native women, particularly in the treatment of the word ‘Vaa’ (translates as ‘please come’), which carries the intimate tone of a woman beckoning someone in everyday speech. Wells (Reference Wells2006) recounts that theatre music arises from the chest voice, which is the same as the natural speaking voice. Musical theatre emerges from the traditions of vernacular entertainment, rooted in colloquial and common language (ibid.). The resemblance of musical sounds to native speech sounds is a significant element in bringing a sense of familiarity among the listeners with these sounds. It also played a crucial role in popularising this music. Characterised by full-throat singing in a low register, nasality, the enunciation of specific syllables, vocal undulations, and unfiltered voices embedded in the body, they became symbolic of the grounded, pastoral lives of the common people – the voice of a common wo/man, a labourer, a farmer, a native woman, or a ‘working class hero’.
The construction of the heroine/hero voice in film
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1. The hero:
The arrival of commercial films and their monopoly over the popular industry had a significant impact on shaping certain voices. The widespread popularity of film music caused the decline of theatre music and fostered a new culture of vocal practice. This transformation redefined the concept of a singing voice, particularly in performances for the heroine or hero. In a linear narrative, the hero with authority directs the plot’s course. According to the Fichtean curve, the resolution or ‘falling action’ of the narrative occurs when the hero triumphs over obstacles and bad forces. Filmy depictions of Indian heroes after the 1950s portrayed them as ideal figures who rose from misery, obstacles, and evil forces. The popular narratives of the 20th century introduced a new sense of middle-class modernity, resulting in the creation of domesticated heroes and heroines. They later turned out to be the ideal ‘family woman’ or ‘family man’, and such characters needed a ‘domesticated voice’ (Muhammed Reference Muhammed2014). Srivastava identifies the birth of a ‘modern hero’ in post-colonial India as part of the Five-Year Plan where masculinity transitioned from being solely a bodily representation to a more scientific and rational concept (Srivastava Reference Srivastava1996, Reference Srivastava2004). PC1, a cultural critic of Kerala, attributes this sensibility to the common social values and the concept of family fostered by the Renaissance in Kerala. He says:
The emergence of new social values and familial concepts post-Renaissance led to the idealisation of male and female archetypes. These ideals found expression in films portraying an ideal household. This discourse introduced the distinctions between a domesticated female voice and a socially accepted male voice. Yesudas’s voice epitomised this ideal and social acceptability.Footnote 12
Another music critic, PC2, noted the development of certain prototypes in Malayalam music, with voices like Yesudas’s becoming the epitome of these prototypes.Footnote 13
In Kerala, the extravagantly celebrated male singer K.J. Yesudas began his career in 1962 with his debut song ‘Jaathi bhedam matha dwesham’. Yesudas’s arrival in the film-music industry marked a huge breakthrough. Characters portrayed by heroes like Prem Nazir and Sathyan embodied righteousness and moral flawlessness, earning adoration and worship from spectators. The urban hero’s performative qualities shifted towards discipline and decency, with stories taking on a personal and domestic tone:
Yesudas entered into the industry after the forties and fifties, a world of multi-coloured voices. The entry of Yesudas made the culture of bhagavathar Footnote 14 who sang in musical and political dramas insignificant. Yesudas replaced the country singers’ cacophonic voices with a sophisticated urban voice. Instead of the anarchy of nomadic singers, he introduced elite institutionalism and discipline. (Muhammed Reference Muhammed2014, pp. 80-81)
A singer from Kerala, PM1, commented on the popularity of Yesudas, noting that despite the presence of many other talented musicians, they failed to receive as much social recognition as Yesudas. PM1 highlighted the outstanding level of decency within Yesudas’s voice.Footnote 15 One of the young musicians in Kerala (PM3) mentioned that the voice of Yesudas in his initial periods was not at all masculine.Footnote 16 Most of the experts (PM1, PC1, PC2, PC3, PC4, and PC5) agreed that Yesudas became a prototype for such a decent, sophisticated, desirable man voice.Footnote 17 Sophistication is not a quality that a voice inherits. Rather, it is a judgement of taste commonly perceived by listeners, which is part of a legitimate culture (Bourdieu Reference Bourdieu1984). It is the listener who presupposes sophistication as a quality of the voice:
The idea of a gentle voice is correlated to our listening habits. We have been accustomed to a vocal timbre that we accept as the legitimate form. The voices of MD Ramanathan or Begum Akhtar will not sound ‘rough’ for a person who is accustomed to their voices. For those whose listening habits align with popular music genres, their voices may be perceived as lacking sophistication (PC2).Footnote 18
In the conversations with the musicians and critics, words that can be translated as ‘soft’, ‘polished’, ‘raw’, ‘sophisticated’, unsophisticated’, and ‘cultured’ appeared repeatedly as adjectives of voice. These words thus become signifiers of a ‘quality’ of the latter. Some of the excerpts from the interviews are given as examples:
PM1: ‘Mohammad Rafi had a great influence in creating the trend of soft and polished voices… Melodious voices had more acceptance… raw voices faded and cultured voices came in…’.
PC2: ‘Even P Leela did not sing in a soft voice. Polished voices were in demand during the time of Janaki, Sushila, and Madhuri’.
PC3: ‘Modernity brought by the Renaissance gave birth to an ideal voice’.Footnote 19
Sophistication entails the disciplined features of the voice.Footnote 20 Ashok Da Ranade (Reference Ranade2006) mentions that the voices that contain ‘folk’ qualities can be described as having a ‘sharp edge’ or a presence of a ‘roughness of texture’, which sophisticated voices lack. Such are often labelled as non-disciplined voices as opposed to the idea of a voice that is ‘smoothly curved’ and has a ‘soft texture’, that is, the sophisticated voice. Andrew N. Weintraub (Reference Weintraub, Weintraub and Barendregt2017), in his article on Indonesian popular music, highlights that a refined and sophisticated voice – characterised by a warm, husky timbre and perfect enunciation – is often associated with modernity.
The voice of Yesudas was an absolute contradiction when compared with the singing style of KPAC singers like K.S. George. As previously discussed, characteristics in theatre singing came from the roots of Indian folk music and Carnatic music and it resonated with the common pastoral speech sounds, sonic representations that were later judged as qualities of ‘unsophistication’. The theatre singers used Gamakas lavishly, but they sounded very quick, and crisp in Yesudas’ singing style. Yesudas’ voice is flexible, vibratos are smoothly curved, and the ending-sustaining notes are ornate with a subtle touch of vibrato, purely for aesthetic purposes. Also, the pronunciation of words and syllables was carefully made subtle and mannered. The subtlety, delicacy, clarity, and fineness were the linchpin of his singing style, which was later deciphered as the qualities of a ‘sophisticated’ voice. We can observe similar qualities of decency, good manners, and sophistication in the urban heroes.
Yesudas’s voice has often been referred to as mellifluous and Gandharva’s (‘celestial musician’) voice.Footnote 21 Gandharva, a celestial being who is detached from worldly frailties and carnal desires, is a symbol of sacredness and purity. A celestial voice is often linked with divinity, embodying an otherworldly quality that stands in contrast to the earthy, raw voices of theatre singers. These raw voices directly convey the grit of reality and exude a growling masculinity. During that period, society demanded a polished voice that upheld the morality of a middle-class household and the righteousness of the conjugal bond, more than a growling raw voice. The celestial voice aligns with the archetype of the most desirable masculine identity, characterised by its association with ‘decency’. Consequently, when this combination is represented on-screen, it evokes awe in the audience. Voice as sacred as that of the Gandharva thus became a stereotype of the ‘ideal family man’, which is actualised through the voice of Yesudas (Figure 1).
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2. The heroine:
A still from a song sequence featuring Prem Nazir. Screenshot from filmibeat.com (accessed February 2025).
The conjugal family strongly upholds moral codes and equates ‘decency’ by repressing all sexual desires (Foucault Reference Foucault1978). A heroine neither crosses moral barriers nor overtly expresses her desires. In most songs, the heroine is a household symbol of sorrow who yearns to be reunited with her beloved. However, she hardly dares to cross the threshold and chooses to remain inside. The audience worships and accepts this image of the female, adding to the ‘quality’ of an ideal woman. Popular films well accept this idea of a virtuous family woman, a Kudumbini. Footnote 22 In songs such as ‘Avidunnen gaanam kelkkan’ (1967), ‘Vaasantha panchami naalil’ (1964), and ‘Naadha nee varum’ (1980), the first-person female narrator is longing for the arrival of her beloved. The song sequences are filmed within the confines of a house, and her movement is restricted to the boundaries of the household. Sumita S. Chakravarty (Reference Chakravarty1998) denotes how the discourse of nationalism constructs images of males as active and of females as passive and private. The ideal feminine is always associated with immobility and hence ‘territoriality’ (Figure 2).
A still from the song ‘Avidunnen gaanam kelkan’. Screenshot from youtu.be/CASTZ90zYrE (accessed February 2025).
On the contrary, the women who move out of the domicile, seek out adventures, or express their desires overtly are equated as the ‘bad’ women. P.K. Nair (Reference Nair and Pillai2010) finds it ironic that early Malayalam cinema portrays one of the strong and arresting images of ‘woman’ as ‘bad’ characters. The character Janoo, played by Pankajavalli, who ill-treats her husband’s brother and wife in the film Jeevitha Nauka (‘Life boat’ 1951), serves as a good example of a strong ‘bad’ woman. The fact that she has to atone for all her sins and evildoings and come begging at the door of the woman she has wronged is quite in tune with the popular belief that ultimately ‘good’ will triumph over ‘evil’ (ibid., p. 36). In Indian films, discourses on female chastity, modern nationalism, and morality intersect and reinforce each other. The moral combat between the ideal-Indian-traditional mother, who is the ‘good’ force and the western villain who is the evil force and the ‘Other’, characterises modern India’s moral concerns (Thomas Reference Thomas and Breckenridge1995).
In Bollywood, Lata Mangeshkar’s voice emerged as the epitome of the ideal female vocal during the 20th century, establishing a standard that other female singers were expected to emulate (Desai-Stephen Reference Desai-Stephen, Beaster-Jones and Sarrazin2017). She began her singing journey at the age of 13 in the 1940s, and her melodious voice resonated across India during the 1950s and 1960s. Indians still worship her as the ‘nightingale of India’ to this day. Srivastava (Reference Srivastava2007) identifies the processes through which Lata’s voice became an aesthetic epitome of Indian femininity as part of the cultural politics of making the ‘modern’ Indian woman within the matrices of elite class/caste:
It would appear that Lata’s style manages to present a viable solution to a problem of representation in the public sphere: at the same time that women’s bodies became visible in public spaces via films, their presence was ‘thinned’ through the expressive timbre granted them. (ibid.)
Lata’s emergence as a playback singer aligns perfectly with the technological advancements that happened (Booth Reference Booth, Booth and Shope2013). In the South Indian film industry of the 1960s, many female singers adopted Lata Mangeshkar’s singing style and vocal timbre, as noted by Muhammed (Reference Muhammed2014). S. Janaki, popularly known as the ‘nightingale of south India’, started her singing career with the film Vidhiyin Vilayattu in 1957. She recorded over 48,000 songs in 17 languages and gained widespread popularity in the Malayalam industry during the 1960s. V.T. Murali (Reference Murali2008) highlights how S. Janaki, P. Sushila (debut in 1951), and later K.S. Chitra (debut in 1979) rose to the status of ‘nightingales’ in Malayalam popular music. A striking resemblance is evident in the timbral quality and singing style shared between Lata and S. Janaki, notably in their adaptability within the studio setting. Raju Bharatan (Reference Bharatan1995) addresses Lata’s voice as a ‘piccolo voice: one that exactly hits the mike’. In studios, loudness becomes a demerit to the singers as the microphone captures the most intricate nuances of a voice. Techniques such as voice control, breath control, and falsetto singing were effectively employed in studios by the lineage of female singers, starting with Lata and Janaki. Their voices, thin and sharp as a flute sound, are controllable and adaptable according to different contexts and moods. The emotions expressed by them never went far from the socially created boundaries of morality. These voices were well adapted to the ideal-typical feminine image. Soprano-voiced singers could easily depict emotions such as shyness (which was a significant characteristic of the heroines in the mid-20th century). Janaki used her iconic ‘husky’ voice technique (softening of voice or partial false voice register) to give a whispering effect. For instance, the song ‘Nadha nee varum’ (1980), depicts a woman who is awaiting the footsteps of her male lover within the confines of her home. There is a particular line in the song where the singer expresses shyness (figure 3):
Kānunna nerathu mindātha mohangal…
Chāmaram veeshi nilpu…
(‘When we unite, our unspoken desires flutter’).Footnote 23
A still from the song ‘Naadha nee varum’. Screenshot from youtu.be/mlHBvZpDBNY (accessed February 2025).
The singer pauses the line after the first part ‘Kanunna nerathu mindaatha mohangal’, followed by subtle laughter (out of shyness). Janaki delivers the second half of the line using a whispering technique for dramatic effects. The whispering indicates that the spurring emotions of the woman have been subdued as they are ‘unspeakable’. The female emotions are subdued or suppressed by the singer when they reach the brim of an outpouring. Many of her songs feature this effect as a recurring technique. Janaki’s voice is trained to execute these techniques, depicting ‘restrained emotions’ such as shyness and passivity. The studio adaptation benefitted in creating more subtle emotions of voice, which aligned with the desired female image portrayal in films. For instance, the song ‘Avidunnen gaanam kelkkan’ (1967), sung by S. Janaki, starts from the middle octave and reaches up to the higher octave. In comparison, KPAC Sulochana sings the drama song ‘Ambiliammava’ (1967) in a lower register, covering mostly the lower octave and very less of the middle octave. Janaki’s soprano voice in the higher registers exhibits a light and delicate quality, whereas Sulochana’s heavy voice exudes gravitas and rawness in the lower registers. The voice of Janaki obeys and stays within the moral codes and will never be too loud or earthly. It transcends worldly pleasures and carnal frailties; it is a disembodied voice. The household, its premises, several prescribed emotions, gestures, attire, and mannerisms are all territorial and constrained within a definitive framework. Janaki’s territorial voice advocates these performative attributes – a voice that never gets too loud or breaks the thresholds of decency, chastity, and morality. In Bollywood, female voices such as that of Lata Mangeshkar represented a de-sexualised voice that obtained more respectability (Aziz Reference Aziz2003; Majumdar Reference Majumdar2001). Likewise, the chaste, innocent, and disembodied voice of S. Janaki who seldom exhibits carnal emotions becomes the signifier of the ideal female. Starting from the period of Janaki, that stereotype continued in the Malayalam industry through K.S. Chithra, Sujata Mohan, and many more, creating more replicas.
The ‘other’ voices
A narrative is built through the use of varied binaries, which play a key role in shaping the characters (Strauss Reference Strauss1955). Barthes (Reference Barthes1978) believes that ‘meaning comes from some initial binary oppositions or differentiation’. The presence or absence of an element is the basis of establishing binaries. Barthes delineates various types of binary oppositions, with the most general being ‘privative oppositions’. Privative oppositions arise from the presence of a significant element, mark, which is absent in the other. In a narrative, the female/male binary is a privative opposition where the male is identified as the entity, which lacks certain elements that are marked in the female (ibid., p. 77). Other binaries possess the same qualities but are entitled as opposites. Barthes talks of another category named ‘equipollent oppositions’:
In these oppositions, whose relation would in logic be a relation of exteriority, the two terms are equivalent, that is to say, they cannot be considered as the negation and the affirmation of a peculiarity. (Barthes Reference Barthes1964, p. 78)
For instance, the hero/villain and hero/sidekick binaries both belong to the same category (male) yet contradict each other. The villain is the most explicit opposite of the hero – an antithesis. However, other characters subtly act as the promoters of the hero, such as the sidekicks or foil characters who exhibit frailty. When a hero embodies ideal male qualities, such as resilience, authority, and decency, the sidekicks often portray a vulnerable male. They are entitled to be imperfect, faulty, and inadequate.
In terms of musical content, we can identify certain classifications based on these aforementioned binaries. The musical voice of the characters had to complement their qualitative characteristics. As discussed, the voice of an ideal hero is trained to exhibit sophistication and decency. This necessitated a contrast between the foil characters’ voices and the qualities of the hero’s voice. To serve this purpose, the voices lacking the qualities of an ideal voice were welcomed into the industry. Most participants (PM1, PC2, PC3, PC4, and PC5) expressed during our conversations that this element can be understood by examining the songs performed by Bahadoor (prominent during the 1970s and 1980s),Footnote 24 sung by singers with different tonal qualities such as Mehboob, M.S. Baburaj, C.O. Anto, and Kamukara Purushothaman.Footnote 25 It is interesting to note that those characters represented the socially marginalised groups as well. As mentioned before, the ‘good’ or the ‘ideal’ exists only in the presence of a faulty opposition. The standardised voices of protagonists became classified as prominent by differentiating them from the voices of the foil characters. Here, the other voices are deliberately presented as inadequate, comic, or hideous in films so that the distinction between heroic voices and unrefined voices will be more evident. The process of ‘othering’ helps to reinforce the domination of the ideal voice.
A similar pattern can be observed in the case of heroines as well. The songs sung by L.R. Eswari, A.P. Komala, and Madhuri represent characters from backward or minority religious groups. In the song ‘Thambran thoduthath’ (1971), the heroine is fair and noble and the sidekick is a backward caste black woman, who addresses the hero and heroine as Thambran (‘duke’) and Thambratti (‘duchess’), respectively. The heroine is overwhelmingly shy, which is a hallmark of her nobility, whereas the female sidekick openly expresses her romantic desires and dares to vocalise them. Madhuri’s singing style is neither polished nor limiting. She sings in a rather open and unrefined style, allowing herself to be vulnerable and express sexual desires. The combination of a proletariat character, her unrefined voice, and her frail characterisation results in the creation of the ‘other’.
The backward castes, religious minorities, and subaltern characters are portrayed with voices that lack certain qualities of an ideal voice. Consequently, these voices are often juxtaposed as ‘unsophisticated’ or less refined. This results in the misrepresentation of social minorities through the othering of voices and the legitimisation of the ideal voice as the representative of the dominant section of society. The social ‘other’ transforms into the musical ‘other’, and social hegemony translates into vocal hegemony.
The estranged voices
In the 21st century, ‘other’ voices masquerade in different forms. The western influence was evident and it created a new space where the ‘English-style’ songs were an integral part. To cater to the emerging millennial culture, these songs were a necessary inclusion in the narrative. These western-styled songs required western singing styles. The arrival of the new group of singers, with alto and mezzo voices, created a distinct niche for these songs in the films. Despite the changing styles, the ideal-type songs and voices persisted, and the standards of heroines, heroes, female-male stereotypes, and middle-class morality remained unaffected. The voices of the new singers caught everyone’s attention as the Malayalam industry was not accustomed to that style. Singers like Jassie Gift (who is also a music composer) and Sayanora Philip came into the industry at the beginning of the 21st century and they had different vocal timbres: Jassie Gift has a nasal tone, while Sayanora has a classic alto voice, and both are trained in western style. Songs composed by Jassie Gift created a new wave in Kerala, especially among the youth. Even though his songs did not appear in massive blockbuster films, some like ‘Lajjavathiye’ (2004), ‘Themma’ (2004), ‘Mathappoove’ (2006), and ‘Ninte mizhimuna kondente’ (2004) grabbed public attention. Meanwhile, singers like K.J. Yesudas, M.G. Sreekumar, G. Venugopal, Madhu Balakrishnan, and Unni Menon continued to adhere to traditional standards during the 2000s.
The new formats and voices were assigned to a different setting and sounded untraditional. Although they were a part of the narrative, they stayed aloof from the territory of the ideal. Whether a club song, a sensual song, an upbeat song, or a song of infatuation, it portrays fleeting emotions and transient relationships. Indian film developed a set of pre-determined ‘romantic song formulae’, each of them used for different romantic settings (Sarrazin Reference Sarrazin2008); however, the Malayalam industry saw the arrival of a new song formula that reflected the sensibilities of the rebelling youth. Even tender emotions such as love, in the songs representing a young demographic, became nothing more than an exhilaration or a celebration of bodies. The new voices were welcomed to that song genre more often.
A conflict arose in the normative field with the arrival of new voices. The industry had to accommodate these voices because of their huge popularity among the youth. Nevertheless, the legitimised format was not to be disrupted by these new styles. Due to this conflict, the newly emerged singers had to struggle to find a respectable place in the mainstream. Their voices remained disassociated from the heroine/hero zone of nobility, rendering them estranged. Singers like Sayanora Philip and Jassie Gift are the perfect examples of these ‘estranged voices’ in Malayalam. Jassie Gift, despite having fewer songs to his credit, left a significant mark on the Malayali audience, embarking on his career in the Malayalam industry in 2003 and gaining widespread acclaim with the film 4 the People (2004). Gift is trained in western music and is likely the one who popularised elements of rap music and, most importantly, upbeat songs in the early 21st century. He has sung some of his own songs, and his singing style stands out, primarily due to his deep nasal voice, westernised approach, and stylised pronunciation. Gift addresses this conflict between standardised music and the new wave of experimentation:
Despite the experimentations, the Malayali audience is accustomed to a preconceived notion about music. To provide ‘hit numbers’, therefore, one has to work within the framework of these pre-set standards. The English mix in my songs was a direct result of the need to deliver something new. I composed songs that are rhythmic and upbeat and they became widely popular. These songs were not classical-oriented but rather multi- coloured songs. However, because these songs deviated from the traditional format, they were prone to attack. (Manorama News 2017)
A music critic (PC2) opined that ‘the Malayali audience was disturbed whenever the stereotypical standards in music were shaken’.Footnote 26 When the voice of Jassie Gift entered the Malayalam music industry, the audience reacted to it as if the music industry was severely endangered by his music. Gift points out that his music received harsh comments from the audience, including remarks like ‘our music got massacred’. Singers like Jassie Gift would never sing for the ideal hero figures. Participants (PM1, PM2, PC3, and PC4) mentioned that the voice of Jassie Gift had characteristics that a stereotypical hero would never have.Footnote 27 The voices of the so-called masculine, domesticated, heroes are always bound to the pre-existing standards. In response to a question posed by the interviewer on how it would have sounded had he (Gift) sung the song ‘Snehathumbi’ (2005),Footnote 28 Gift says it would have been ‘inappropriate’ in his voice, emphasising that such a song can only be delivered through the voice of Yesudas.
Sayonara Philip made her debut in 2004 by exhibiting her skills in western style. Sayanora once said that as her voice had a different tonal quality, she did not get enough chances in the music industry. She recollects an event when she was rejected because she could not deliver songs in the higher register:
There are multiple vocal ranges. My vocal range is alto. Some have mezzo-soprano and some have soprano like Chitra. We are used to the voices of singers such as Lata Mangeshkar. They have high-pitched soft singing styles. I could not sing many good songs just because I have a lower register voice. The song that I sang in Manjupoloru Penkutty (2004)Footnote 29 is an English song that suited my range. (Cinemapranthan 2020)
The non-pervasive existence of the different tonal qualities in popular music is evident here. The standardised notions are not hindered by the ‘other’ voices as they exist in different terrains, and no damage is done to the existing format of popular music. However, they are always a part of the narrative as an antidote to the standardisations. The voices of the subject, namely the voices of the heroine/hero, are presented as authentic or legitimate. The estranged voices and the type of songs they are assigned to sing seem to have inhabited a meaningless position outside the subject of the narrative. An upbeat song like ‘Lajjavathiye’ (2004)Footnote 30 contains and conveys the peripheral exuberance of the youth. It is neither legitimate nor authentic, but rather a celebration of meaninglessness. The emotion of ecstasy is articulated not through poetic elaborations but as an amalgamation of gibberish (Figure 4).
A still from the song ‘Lajjavathiye’. Screenshot from malayalamlyric.com (accessed February 2025).
Julia Kristeva (Reference Kristeva1982) states that the abject is a jettisoned object, radically excluded, and draws towards the place where meaning collapses. The object holds a position as the binary opposite of the subject, while the abject lacks a position altogether. However, discourse contains the abject too. The ‘other’ is typically seen as flawed or lacking in ‘qualities’, whereas the abject threatens the subject’s very existence unless a deliberate alienation of the abject is carried out to restore ‘balance’ in the discourse. The voices marked as abject are also a part of the discourse; they are, however, detached from the milieu of the subject:
This exclusionary matrix by which subjects are formed thus requires the simultaneous production of a domain of abject beings, those who are not yet ‘subjects’ but who form the constitutive outside to the domain of the subject. The abject designates here precisely those ‘unliveable’ and ‘uninhabitable’ zones of social life which are nevertheless densely populated by those who do not enjoy the status of the subject, but whose living under the sign of the ‘unliveable’ is required to circumscribe the domain of the subject. (Butler Reference Butler1993, p. 3)
These ‘uninhabitable’ zones in popular films, outside the domain of the subject, are occupied by songs that are explicitly immoral or meaningless. They contain outcast sensibilities, sensuousness, and non-disciplined voices, by creating a destruction of the order, where meaning collapses. The ‘disgust’ produced while imagining Jassie Gift’s voice for a standardised melody or Sayanora’s alto-ranged voice for a stereotypical female indicates the very fact that such voices constitute the ‘uninhabitable’ zone. The aversion that arises in the listener when the abject and subject zones intermingle can be referred to as ‘abjectification’.
The voice of Sayanora has been limited to club songs and typecast to a category that remained outside the morale of the society. Morality becomes the order and the law, and female sexuality is the symbol of immorality that destroys the law. The seductive voice brings in horrors that would shake the phallic order; therefore, the ‘sexed’ voices are put outside the order of morality and would never be let inside. However, the narrative cannot exist without the presence of the abject. The ideal identifies the potential of the abject voice, demanding a deliberate placement of the latter as something immoral or nasty. The ideal voice reinforces its power through the disposition of the abject voice as disgusting or meaningless. Like the lip-bites and hushing of voice during moments of emotional outbursts, the ideal strives to be inside the margins of morality and not infringe on the rules. Thus, the reinforcement of the ideal voices happens even more strongly when the subject is created in an effort not to be abject.
The discursive formation in popular music is marked by the co-existence of the subject, the object, and the abject. The ideal voices are presented as legitimate, with a clear boundary established from the abject voices. While the non-disciplined voices and the carnal female voices have the potential to disrupt the subject, they are strategically estranged from it to retain order. Demarcations are made not only between female and male but also between the ideal and the ‘other’. The process of genderisation in popular music exists in every period, taking different shapes and forms.
Conclusion
The preceding discussion has analysed the process of genderisation by evaluating the trajectory of voices in Malayalam popular music. The discourse of popular music has been created with strategic reinforcement of the single ideal voice and the careful distinction of multiple ‘other’ voices. The homogenisation of voice is a repercussion of the creation of an ideal gendered voice. As a result, a common taste is cultivated, with popular music culture training the listeners to identify the ideal and the ‘other’ voices. The listeners perceive certain characteristics of the voice as the ideal, synonymous with sophistication, while intentionally portraying ‘other’ voices as flawed. Additionally, these voices are often depicted as representing backward class/caste groups. The industry has always been particular about maintaining certain standardisations. At the turn of the 21st century, western-styled songs entered the Malayalam industry driven by globalisation. However, the westernised voices, especially alto- and mezzo-ranged voices, were typecast to a different category. While new voices entered the industry, they remained outside the domain of the ideal voices. These territories estranged new voices and typecast them into sensuous niches untouched by the ideal voice. Genderisation in the Malayalam popular music industry involves not only defining male/female distinctions but also creating ideal and non-ideal voices. The ideal voice remains resilient amidst changes and experiments, often solidifying its position by estranging different voices.
Acknowledgements
My sincere gratitude to my mentor Dr. N.P. Hafiz Mohamad and to Barsheena Mumthas for their invaluable guidance during the initial stage of this study. This work was funded by the Indian Council of Social Science Research (ICSSR), India.
