Vineeth Sreenivasan’s Malayalam film, with music by Amrit Ramnath, brings back analog music to South Indian films, with careful attention to quality, and a nod to the sound of the 1970s
A week ago, a lovely red vinyl, splattered with turquoise, landed in many homes, to great excitement. When played, the vinyl, pressed in the Netherlands, filled homes and spaces with music pure and joyous. “Vaaraaai Thaaraai Manam Engo Poguthe” spoke personally to so many. And just like that, Vineeth Sreenivasan’s Varshangalkku Shesham (Years Later), with music by Amrit Ramnath, ended the drought of vinyls in South Indian films that featured analog music.
A fortnight ago, Think Music, which owns the rights of Varshangalkku Shesham put out a post on Instagram where it presented the first vinyl of the film’s soundtrack to singer Bombay Jayashri, whose son Amrit is the film’s composer. This is also Think Music’s first vinyl. The comments section was buzzing with enquiries from eager collectors who wanted to land their hands on a vinyl that was released before the film, and which had music created for the medium.
The past few years have seen some vinyl releases, but they have either been re-releases of old albums (Manichitrathazhu in March 2024 by Wilson Audios) or digital music pressed on vinyls (Marakkar: Lion of the Arabian Sea by Zwaram Audios in 2021). If all had worked well, Vineeth’s previous film Hridayam (2022) would have been the one to receive this honour. But the team stopped with CDs and cassettes for that.
Varshangalkku Shesham music lent itself to vinyl
“This time around, Santhosh Kumar, the vice-president of Think Music, asked if we could explore the idea of vinyl for the score because the film is partly set in the 70s, and the music lent itself to this format. We were not sure if we would be able to release it before the movie, but a whole bunch of people, including AN Mani of Think Music and Saji Pillai, who has so much experience with physical music, came together to make it possible,” says Vineeth, who heard the vinyl of his film in Amrit’s house and was moved and excited. “I’m waiting for my player to reach home so that I can start listening to vinyls now,” he adds.
The director says he received many photographs on social media of people posing with their vinyls of Varshangalkku Shesham. “Collectors seem very happy with this move because something has been mastered for this medium after a long time,” he says. Composer Amrit grew up surrounded by vinyls that his father Ramnath acquired from his father. “At one point, we had a working record player, and on my bucket list was having my music played on vinyl. So, this feels surreal,” he says, adding that listening to one’s compositions on vinyl is a privilege. He got that when he had to check the mastering.
Saji Pillai, former Manufacturing Head (India), Sony Digital Audio Disc Corporation
It helps that at the core of Amrit’s music ideation and composition is live music. And live music translates well into any analog medium. The music of Varshangalkku Shesham was specially mastered for vinyl. “We paid extra attention. We took stems from every song and pressed them on lacquer. Live music breathes so wonderfully and the nature and distinctness of analog sound makes it very special,” Amrit adds.
He also loves the fact that you listen without a pause, and develop the patience to indulge in some intentful listening. “Vineeth shared the entire journey of his vision and there was a flow with which I created and placed the songs. With vinyl you have the entire expansive experience of the film in your hands,” says Amrit.
The team that pulled off the project
For Mani, who has also dabbled in filmmaking, the issue was putting together a team that would pull off something this ambitious because no one really knew how this would work out in a time when a single master is made for digital music. “It is a long-time dream for Think Music that a vinyl should be pressed for a film here. When we checked with vinyl plants overseas, we realised that due to the recent interest in vinyls and the resultant demand, they would take six months to press one for us. We decided to skip a step where we had to test the master, and blindly trusted the manufacturer. The original stamper was in the Netherlands; they managed to give it to us in time,” he explains.
The team wanted the vinyl, which is priced at Rs 2,500, to have some value addition. So they went in for a red and turquoise splatter design, a gatefold cover (designed by Chennai-based Pada Cassette) and an anti-static cover inside. And despite no real marketing for the vinyls, and the steep cost, more than half of the 500 initially pressed have been despatched in the very first week.
Mani’s first vinyl experience was listening to K Balachander’s Ilaiyaraaja musical Sindhu Bhairavi (1985) at a friend’s place. As the music washed over him, he felt like someone was performing just for him or that he was at the recording studio. “Varshangalkku Shesham is our child, and while I was terrified something might go wrong or we might not achieve what we set out to do, the final product is something we are proud about. We have given our very best. And two people completely backed us — Vineeth and Santhosh, ” he says, adding that while the cost is high, once there’s more demand, and more vinyls are pressed, say a 1,000, the cost can come down by as much as 40 percent.
Radio Mango music manager Shijo Manuel, who also runs the archival page Geeths N’ Grooves on Facebook, does not particularly like the word vinyl collector. He prefers being called a vinyl listener because music cannot really be collected. He’s one of those responsible for the Manichitrathazhu (1993) vinyl re-release, priced at Rs 1, 800. He had the original masters, converted and released them.
When it comes to quality, Shijo is not easy to please: “The cover of Varshangalkku Shesham was catchy but what blew my mind was the quality. And one must understand that the music of this film takes time to grow on you. It’s not a short-term hit.”
A piece of history for the film audience
If Mani and his team worked on one aspect of the release, Pillai’s team took on the other. “The process of bringing out this special vinyl was unique and intricate. It was driven by a desire to recreate the nostalgic analog sound of the 1970s. This challenge was particularly exciting as the music was originally recorded in digital format. Our first step was to convert these digital recordings into an analog format to ensure the final product bore the warmth and richness typical of vinyl records from that era,” says Pillai, who collaborated with experts in the Netherlands, leveraging his previous connections as the former Sony Digital Audio Disc Corporation (DADC) Manufacturing Head India, to fine-tune the mastering process. He also worked on the cover and vinyl’s colour scheme, keeping in mind the movie’s colour palette. “This required specific technical expertise and experimentation to perfect the colour mix and the splatter effect,” he adds.
The entire project was a challenge, mainly due to the tight timeline. “We especially worked to transform the digital audio tracks into an analog sound, and this involved significant technical expertise and external collaboration. And there was the issue of logistics. “The records were ready in Europe, and we faced delays at the French airport, and while navigating customs in Mumbai,” says Saji.
But all of that disappeared when Saji held the vinyl in his hands. “It was the culmination of intense collaboration, creativity and hard work. Digital life often cuts us off from tangible connections. But with vinyl, you’re tangibly connected to the music you love. This project wasn’t just about manufacturing a product; it was about crafting a piece of history for the film and its audience, creating a physical artefact that enhances the connection between the artiste and the listener.” Those who bought the vinyls will agree.
