‘His Name Will Last for as Long as His Songs Do’: Cinematic Community Remembers SPB

“SPB is no more.” The text message I received as the news broke left me frozen.

Last evening MGM Healthcare, the Chennai hospital where legendary playback singer S.P. Balasubrahmanyam was being treated, issued a statement that his condition had deteriorated in the preceding 24 hours, warranting maximal life support. He had tested positive for COVID-19 and been admitted to hospital on August 5, then tested negative on September 4, but had required continued medical care. He was 74.

All this considered, one would assume each of us grieving him would have been at least prepared for the echoing sense of loss we feel at his passing. As disbelief jostles with sadness and many of us turn to his song list (a formidable 40,000 in 16 Indian languages including Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam, Kannada and Hindi), I tried to grasp how those in the cine-music field remember SPB or Balu – two nicknames by which he was fondly known.

Playback singer Chinmayi Sripada told me, “His life was a celebration. He celebrated everything, and he was celebrated. He was never restrained by the mould that a singer should only sing. He did everything. Shone. Thrived. He’s probably dancing away and singing in the heavens, entertaining the gods.” Sripada was referring to his screen appearances from as early as 1969 in Telugu, Tamil and Kananda films and TV programmes, his attempts at film production, music direction and even voice acting. She added that he “would live on through his music” and that “his music is not connected to his mortal body”.

Life, more than death, seems to be on the minds of those I spoke to. Film and indie music director and also band leader of The Casteless Collective, Tenma said, “Maybe some part of every SPB fan died today, but not his spirit. He occupies a historic space in the transition from theatre to cinema in Tamil Nadu. Like T.M. Soundarajan, he was the partial voice of the ‘Raja-part’ [a Tamil theatre term from the 1930s, for the lead-protagonist or hero]. He came in during the modern time when cinema became a popular medium, but even think of the intro songs he did for Rajini later on. When he sang, he exhibited all the characteristics the hero must demonstrate.”

On a personal note, he added, “Every music director has a checklist. For several, SPB would have been on that list, as he was on mine. It’ll never happen now…”

Also read: S.P. Balasubrahmanyam – the Inimitable Impressionist

Another young music director, Anirudh Ravichander who composed the music for Rajinikanth’s last two releases Petta and Darbar, both of which SPB sings in, tweeted about his time in the recording studio with SPB.

For most Rajinikanth fans, SPB is an alternate voice for the Superstar, having sung, as Tenma pointed out, many of his intro-songs (the track that introduces the hero in each film). It became a long lasting Tamil cinema tradition, broken only rarely. In memory of this, Rajini posted a two-minute video to his social media handle in Tamil, saying, “Today is a sorrowful day. There cannot be anyone in the country who has not enjoyed SPB’s voice. Yet, those who knew him personally, loved him more than they did his music. His humanity, the way he treated everyone fairly and without prejudice, were the reasons for that. He was a loving man. A hundred years from now his voice will still reverberate in our ears, but it saddens me deeply that the possessor of that voice is gone.” He also extended his condolences to the family.

But there is a duo, iconic and unforgettable in cine music: the era of Raja-Balu. As ‘Isaignani’ Ilaiyaraja swept to irrefutable popularity by the early 1980s, upstaging the hold of predecessors like MSV with his unabashed mixing of western music including even funk notes with Tamil folk music, SPB, his friend even before Raja entered the industry, would become a steadfast presence in his compositions. In those years Raja’s eclecticism shone, as did SPB’s versatility in delivering what was required of him.

They have had over 2,000 songs together. Though the two have had intermittent bitterness in the time that has passed, going by their public appearances and mentions of each other, their friendship has endured for five decades. In the early days of SPB’s illness, Raja released a video for him. His words “ezhunthu va, Balu” – that I translate here inadequately as “Get up. Come back to us Balu” – became a catchphrase for those who love the music the two of them created.

Condolence messages from cinema personal have poured in. Kamal Hassan, for whom too SPB has sung, said in his video statement, “Few receive the acclaim due to them in their lifetimes. My annan SPB was one of them. Of the fans who bid him farewell in a downpour of praise – I am one of them…I say my thanks to this brother who allowed me a small share in this praise showered upon him…he reigned as the voice of four generations of heroes, for seven generations to come, may his name last.”

I reserve the last memorial statement for someone who must be feeling SPB’s loss the keenest, his son and film producer S.P. Charan. In an emotional address to the press in both Tamil and Telugu (SPB was from Konetammapeta in present-day Andhra Pradesh) he thanked fans and the staff of MGM Healthcare. He said, “SPB belongs to all of us. His name will last for as long as his songs do. As long as each of you are remain, we still have our father.”

To single out one SPB song from his life’s work is hard. For those still processing his death, I leave you here with ‘Madai Thirandu’ from Nizhalgal, 1980 – a Raja-Balu number and a personal favourite – so we may remember him in defiant celebration.

Bharathy Singaravel is a culture reporter and interested in the overlaps between Tamil cinema, protest music and politics.