“Break the Barriers!” – An Interview with Usha Uthup
Photo courtesy: Team Sacred Amritsar
Continuing a five-decade-long singing career, Usha Uthup speaks about staying relevant with changing times, meme culture, radical self-love, and covering Miley Cyrus.
During a recent performance in Amristar, veteran singer Usha Uthup paused her act at multiple places to share hilarious tidbits from her five-decade-long career. She spoke of a time when her songs caused a furor, jokingly calling herself the ‘first-ever item girl,’ for her lyrics were oddly reminiscent of scandalous cabaret numbers that Bollywood would later popularize with far less innocence. She acknowledged how her disco hit “Ramba Ho” from Anand Sagar-directorial Armaan (1981) has shot to relevance thanks to Aditya Dhar’s film Dhurandar, even if she didn’t directly address how the film has been controversial for many reasons.
And, at another instance, she pulsed with a familiar spirit of rebellion, urging the crowd to break the barricades and rush towards the stage. “Todd do pabandiyaan (Break the barriers),” she said, almost with a poetic refrain.
Uthup has always been a breaker of barriers. Back in the 1960s, Kolkata was a home to a nightclub circuit buzzing with new artists. The city’s nightlife was unlike others; it had truly become a melting pot of different genres—think jazz, rock, cabaret all being cooked together, garnished with Indian melodies. This was the breeding ground for talents like Uthup. What made her special was not only her voice; she had a distinctive contralto which was unlike the singers we had heard before. Her signature coquettish style was never-before-heard. In time, her Kanjeevaram sarees and bindi also became a defining feature of her presence and artistry.
Decades later, Uthup’s biggest win lies in the fact that despite her long career, she was never relegated to a figure from the yesteryears, reduced to a nostalgia-inducing songstress—like many peers of her generation—who only evokes fondness for the bygone era among the younger generations. Contemporary youth culture is increasingly shaped by algorithms, and streaming platforms and short-form videos dominate a landscape which is designed to capture attention within seconds. It is all the more remarkable, then, that Uthup has not only managed to stay relevant but has also found an enthusiastic audience among Gen Z. Few music legends can not only reinvent themselves through time, but also to forge a genuine connection with listeners young enough to be their great-grandchildren. Uthup has done so s without compromising the authenticity that made her beloved in the first place.
Under the crisp winter chill at Amritsar, typical before the onset of spring, I spoke to her backstage in a conversation that touched on everything ranging from meme culture, Gen Z, radical self-love, and her viral cover of Miley Cyrus’ 2023 self-love anthem “Flowers,” which not just broke Spotify records but won the American pop star her first Grammy.
“My daughter asked me to pick [the song] up because it is just like us… Why do we always depend on someone else to buy us flowers when we can buy our own?” Uthup says of the Cyrus cover. “Why do we have to have someone to tell us ‘I love you,’ when we are capable of loving ourselves?” For Uthup, the message transcends gender, geography, generation and even the genre. She doesn’t feel an English-speaking Western musician like Cyrus is vastly different from an Indian singer. “A woman is a woman is a woman just like a man is a man is man. It really doesn’t matter if it comes from Miley Cyrus or it came from me. I always say, the song is always bigger than its singer.”
While most veteran singers are either rediscovered or revisited, Uthup is increasingly experienced in the present tense. She defies categorization in that she is both vintage and modern, and has allowed each generation to find their own way to her, on their own terms.
While most veteran singers are either rediscovered or revisited, Uthup is increasingly experienced in the present tense. She defies categorization in that she is both vintage and modern, and has allowed each generation to find their own way to her, on their own terms.
When asked whether younger audiences perceive her differently than listeners who grew up with her music in the 1980s and 1990s, Uthup rejected the distinction altogether. “I don't see a difference,” she says. “Yesterday's hit is today’s nostalgia.”
Uthup’s classic disco track “Ramba Ho” offers perhaps the clearest example of this. Released over four decades ago, the song has recently found a new audience after resurfacing through popular culture and social media. Yet, Uthup sees its revival less as a personal comeback and more as proof that songs can outlive the circumstances of their creation. “A song is always bigger than the singer and it lives on forever,” she repeats. “But you must give it a chance to become a classic.”
Today, even as many singers fall into the trap of lamenting the changes in the music industry over the last few decades, Uthup is different. She doesn’t particularly mind the rise of short-form content, fifteen-second viral audio clips, or even the dance trends. There is a confidence to her artistry that allows her to meet the younger generation where they are. “I have seen five generations,” she says. “If I could sing Miley Cyrus and Gen Z loves it, they would also love Adele’s ‘Skyfall’. What is stopping us from talking in the language of Gen Z?”
The answer, she suggests, lies in openness rather than instruction. “Everybody asks me what message I have for the youth today. I don't believe in giving messages because when you give messages, people get bored. I pray that they are receptive to music. If you come with an open mind and not have biases, you will glean the message from my song.”
The most intriguing aspect of Uthup’s musical evolution over the years is that she didn’t feel the need to radically alter her persona or artistry. Like before, she has continued to champion the same values of inclusivity and joy. Even her ambitions, if she were somehow able to begin again in the age of Instagram algorithms and viral trends, would remain strikingly familiar. “I wouldn't change anything,” Uthup says. “I would want to be born in India again. I would like to sing songs that appeal to the diaspora. Be it a Kashmiri song like ‘Hukus Bukus’ or a song like ‘Ente Keralam, Ethra Sundaram’.”
Soon, it was time for Uthup to step on to the stage. Before she parted, she returned to a sentiment that has guided much of her life and work. “My last line and my first line is always, ‘Why so much time to fight when there is so little time to love?’”
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Deepansh Duggal is an art and culture writer based in New Delhi. He has a keen interest in analysing artworks and folk songs which lie at the intersection of socio-political and gender issues. He also writes on films and pop-culture. You can find him on Twitter: @Deepansh75 and Instagram: @deepanshduggal.
