IF melody is the USP of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, stylised monotony sells the music of Eddie Vedder. The former is a qawaal, the latter, group Pearl Jam's lead vocalist whose style is rooted to grunge that has branched out of Seattle. But Khan and Vedder have come together in one cut. And with disastrous results in the soundtrack of Dead Man Walking.
The album has two Nusrat-Eddie essays—The Long Road and The Face of Love. There are strains of the harmonium with the tabla providing percussional support. Even the lyrics see-saw between languages most familiar to Nusrat and Eddie.
But the outcome testifies to a basic truth about music: that great musicians need not spawn great fusion. For, fusion implies a harmony of mindsets which these performers have failed to achieve. Nusrat plays his familiar role, cruising through the notes like only he can, while Vedder remains inflexible with his guttural drawl that typifies the music of the Kurt Cobain generation. What is worse: neither seems keen on a compromise that can create an alternative the listener can accept and appreciate.
The songwriting is bad, instrumentation predictable and compositions forgettable. Neither can relate to the other's musical style. They have performed, possibly with one certainty: novelty plays temptress even in the absence of sincere endeavor.
The listener might find himself returning to the tracks sung by Patti Smith or Bruce Springsteen. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, the god of many, disappoints. But then, in the history of music, haven't the gods gone crazy many a time?