Rest in Peace Bhutanese singers. Or go mow the lawn.

Bhutanese singers can go work in a bar or go to Australia to mow some white douche’s lawn. The truth is, like India, we don’t have Music Industry anymore. Nobody buys music, cough…cough except Truck drivers.

We’d been hearing Nidup Dorji, Rinchen Namgyel, Dechen Pem and their totally unrelated metaphors of Pang da Sawa and Chu daa Nyamo songs. And then, just when we thought everything was going fine, Film came in, and they all vanished into thin air, perhaps for a better source of food I presume, with rare possible citing near Sabji Bazaar area. And then it was dead. Heard no more. Like a bad, bad relationship, we didn’t like to talk about it.

Like it wasn’t worse enough, then came in the software that enabled even a fool with a wit of a chimpanzee to arrange the music. And the Film Industry, the only hope, handpicked few singers and rest were sent away like villagers would send an aging bull for Cheythar.

Every song we hear is a film song. A minute through the song and you start frantically looking for a chainsaw. The producers would often ask me how the song is. To which I would reply Funtaastic in the most terrible Indian accent. Which when translated into a normal vernacular for those of you who do not understand a thing called sarcasm, it reads: “It sucks cow dung. Now someone, please pass me the rum.”

If failure is the stepping stones to success, we might someday get to see the Great Wall of China built with those stones our music composers stepped on in their pathetic attempt to imitate Bollywood songs. Here is a list of copied songs:
1. Gatey Taru: Copied from Nepali song Chekeo Chekeo dewrali Dara
2. Nge Sem gi Gawei Samu: Jagjeet Singh’s honton sey choo lo tum
3. Saa Thimphu (Yaa lhayul yee lu bhu nga hep menna): Katty Perry’s Teenage Dreams.
4. Aap jaisa Koi meri Jindagi mey aye. They didn’t even bother to change the music.
5. Apar Jaggi Style: Gangnam style. Just downloaded the karaoke.
6. Yonphula: Aaj kaal teri meri pyaar ki charchey.
I’m too lazy; you name it in the comment. I’ll add them.

The rock genre never got a chance. They were usually taken for guys that lived on drugs, scribbled tattoos, carried pistols, drank too much and chased women on the street. No, they don’t, you need to be intellectually evolved to understand and appreciate Rock. Every time a Rock Band steps on the stage, the audience would chant depressing things like “we want Ugyen Pandey, we want Uguen Pandey…” Bhutanese are too much engrossed in the tunes of Ugyen Pandey and God help me, Minzung, and once upon a time-Namgay Jigs.

Everything is about love. No songs of wits and wisdom, no music of patriotism, no ballads of heroism. No, nothing. It’s just about when moron meets the lass. It’s just ngagi chelu gaa, Chegi ngalu gaa with ocassional twists like Ngagi chelu migaa. Hey listen poor man’s Jagjeet Singh there, Shut up.

Even though we won’t admit it for jingoistic reasons, our music pretty much went down a shit hole. It’s rather depressing. Man, I miss pang da sawa now.

Why did our musicians suck nuts when it came to financial success?
1. Nobody buys stereo cassettes. Seriously? Are you in the 90’s?
2. Nobody buys CDs. Well, even taxi drivers have MP3 player nowadays.
3. We do not have any digital platform where we could buy Bhutanese records.
4. Bhutanese are good at waving a huge middle finger to things like copyright, ethics, legality and supporting the artists.
5. Bhutanese banks failed a big time to come up with in-country online payment or POS transaction system.
6. The film industry brought an end to the Music Industry.
7. Bhutanese became aware of a thing called Bluetooth. See, I told you we’re no more in isolation.

This is how our once famed and otherwise promising Music Industry vanished into oblivion. And the singers went back to farming.

Rest in peace, Bhutanese music.