Harris Jeyraj rides high on the unimaginably complicated world of Music

Every cab in Tamil Nadu these days plays his hit numbers. FM stations and music channels are flooded with requests for his songs and movie theatres go wild when the an opening sequences composed by him begins. Filmmakers want him, singers and songsters make a beeline outside his studio, commoners like us sing, listen and dance to his music.

And now it’s time to meet the pied piper. After the mandatory half hour wait at his studio in K K Nagar, Chennai, we’re ushered into the sanctum sanctorum; the tiny room where Harri Jeyraj weaves his magic. Computers are scattered all around the freezing room, lights blink on consoles; squiggly lines dance across screens while the formidable keyboard screams for attention. While we look around fascinated, here’s Harris, dressed casually in white t-shirt and jeans.

“I’ve just come off the phone,” he lets us know, out of breath, half amused and half excited. “I mean – I just go in and take the call – and it’s the CM!” The call came, apparently, to ask his participation in Kalaignar Karunanidhi’s latest project, based on his historical novel, Ponnar-Sankar!

Whoa the CM! But wouldn’t that be a marked departure from the romantic/action fare he’s done so far? He grins in return. “I choose my projects pretty carefully. I always have,” he answers with a crafty smile. “But yes. This would certainly be a different genre.”

The experimenter, he always was, although they say he follows certain set patterns at times. “You get a fresh perspective on your work when you decide what to take and what to leave,” he says. “Success, I sometimes think, starts with the word ‘No’. And you feel a little sorry for the people he’s turned down so far, as his strike rate is pretty high. Perhaps it’s all in the genes. His father was a well known musician as well, and once cherished dreams of turning his son into a vocalist. Harris himself, though, entered the field of music at 12. “At one point, I was the youngest guitarist in India,” he smiles. He’s worked under acclaimed music directors including Ilaiyaraja and A R Rahman, before turning full-fledged composer for Gautam Menon’s Minnale. He was 24 then.

From then on, it’s been awards galore for him, plus many projects and a popularity that’s touching the roofs. He slowly but surely became a youth icon who could crystallize romance, angst and sorrow into music with perfection. “Essentially, I’m a guitarist. I favour western classical,” he explains. “I have tried Carnatic music too. I composed Aiyangaru Veettu Azhage in raga Chalanattai and Kumari in Arabi,” he quips. No, we don’t doubt that he knows his Carnatic musicology as well.

Moving to other things he shares with us that he’s been lucky so far to work with no fuss directors and lyricists. We know a mischievous glint when we see one! “Yes, there have been moments when I couldn’t really vibe with some, but on the whole, I’ve never had to offer my directors a dozen tunes, have them reject them and then start work all over again. I also make sure to set one day aside for scripts. I don’t want to miss out on any interesting project, no matter how big or small. Even if the budget is only Rs 50 lakhs,” he says.

Sticking to that rule, he devotes each Sunday to Church and scripts, in that order. “So that makes it, what, 52 scripts a year?” he chuckles. “And I spend the workweek on music. I’m a lazy person. I can’t just sit in my studio and work, day after day. Sometimes I can’t bear to step in. Other times, I sit here day and night. I understand the situations, choose tunes, tweak them and work with the lyrics …”

Alright, now listen to this: Harris is known as much for his inordinate love of incomprehensible words as his music. “Oh God, yes,” Harris laughs. “That tends to happen, but if you ask me why. I guess it’s because I like working with lyrics that challenge me, that bring a different spin to the song.”

Like Hasili Fisiliye, from Aadhavan? What on earth does it mean, anyway? Laughter again, and Harris tries his best to find an explanation. “I don’t know. Chinmayi, one of the singers, said it sounded like a Rajasthani necklace. Someone else said it was a Bengali sweet,” he cracks up again. “You’ll just have to ask the lyricist, Pa Vijay. I kept badgering him for happy lyrics and at first, he wrote just that. Then he came up with this. Go figure.”

Speaking of songs, how difficult is it actually to find the right singer? “Unimaginably complicated,” he smiles, and explains that he gets around 2500 – 3000 CDs, every one of which gets the run-through from his assistants, after which he picks singers. “I’ve had as many as five singers sing one particular song. Sometimes, I get it right away. Else, it takes days.” For the chartbuster Adiye Kolluthe, he considered a number of singers and eventually zeroed in on the husky-voiced Shruti Haasan. “But in the end, it works out.”

Indeed it does, and with some filmmakers more than others. He grins self-consciously when we point out – as have others before – that some of his best albums - Minnale, Kaakha Kaakha, Pachaikkili Muthucharam and Vaaranam Aayiram - have been produced in collaboration with Gautam Menon, his first director and with whom he shared an unusual chemistry. Lately, though, the two have hit headlines not for their work but for their infamous split up. The buzz is that they will never work together again.

“With some directors, you feel a connection, the same kind of frequency,” he says quietly. “You know, even when you’re working on it, the first day or the first hour even, that this one is going to be something. It’ll be a blast. There’s this great synergy that helps you focus and brings out the best in everyone. When Gautam first came to me with his script, things clicked for us both. I’ve felt that way with Jeeva and others as well.”