For music lovers who grew up in the late ’90s in the subcontinent, the last week was one of much chagrin. One of the pioneering rock anthems of the time was nothing less than butchered in tribute, that too on the land’s much-vaunted independent music platform.

Once the highlight of the musical calendar, Coke Studio in recent times has garnered more brickbats than applause, even from people who were once staunch loyalists.

What has gone wrong?

“We are a melting pot of all these people and these cultures and they’ve brought their art forms over the years, their instruments and their ways and their philosophies. So that was liberating, and of course that led to a process of self-discovery.”

At the outset, Rohail Hyatt’s brainchild was more than a TV show. It was a showcase using music to present a rich and varied culture, aiming to re-popularise what was then the old and the forgotten among the youth. It sought to bring traditional music into the modern world. An almost spiritual endeavour.

Every song on the platform was chosen for a reason: a message, a feeling, a mystical verse. It was mixed in non-intrusive ways with elements of classical music, to create a wholesome experience of modern instrumentation mixed with traditional essence.

Artists were called in with their ideas and new work. The production team and the house band worked with them on giving new directions to their songs, in an organic, open and collaborative process. This was truly original music from the land.

The song belonged to the artist. The garb was modified, but only in ways that stayed true to the original. The creation of the songwriter remained intact, only dressed in a grandiose arrangement, medley or combination. Sometimes, new ideas took birth on the spot, new verses were written, new ideas explored. All part of the process.

Looking at the behind-the-scenes videos from the earlier seasons of Coke Studio, one walks through the rationale behind the choice of song, the motivations of the songwriter / artist, the process of constructing the sound, and the dynamic interplay of ideas bursting forth that results in original content. Each song was a story.

Nowadays, songs on Coke Studio are pre-produced, mostly written by the in-house lyricist. The elements are decided and arranged beforehand. The singers? They just come and perform their parts. A song is a spectacle, mechanically produced and dressed up for the gallery.

Where is that pang-filled melancholy of Umair Jaswal’s Khayaal that you can feel in the croons of the writer? Where is that collaborative build-up of creating a new Miyan Ki Malhaar with the three main female vocalists of the season? Where is that trip to Fez for that one little percussive sound?

What was once a deeply moving experience, is now a commercialised spectacle. The most popular producers making popular music. A machine to churn out chart-toppers in the instant gratification world. YouTube views are deemed an apt gauge of success. It’s a Bollywood formula, with essentially playback singers, and all manner of bling.