Composer and music director Shamir Tandon occupies a rare intersection between commerce and creativity. Trained as a Cost Accountant with an MBA, and having once led EMI Virgin’s South Asia operations, Tandon brings a deep, intuitive understanding of brands to his musical practice. That background has shaped a career in which music is never just ornamental—over the years, he has quietly pioneered a more nuanced approach to branded content, treating it not as advertising with a tune attached, but as storytelling driven by emotion, purpose, and cultural relevance.
As the founder of Music Boutique, a one-stop music solutions enterprise, Tandon has been at the forefront of redefining how brands tell stories through sound. Blending strong musical roots with strategic insight, he has created branded content that goes well beyond traditional jingles—crafting original songs, audio-visual campaigns, and culturally resonant music experiences that extend a brand’s identity. His body of work includes over 150 advertising jingles for brands such as Pepsi, Airtel, and ICICI, as well as integrated, music-led campaigns designed not just to be heard, but to be remembered and engaged with.
In recent years, this approach has translated into large, culture-forward brand properties such as Mahindra’s Festival of Music, KALA, which brought together diverse musical traditions under a contemporary brand lens, and Hindustan Mile Hindustan Se for JK Tyre—a music-led campaign that blended national identity, emotion and sound to create recall beyond conventional advertising formats.
Edited excerpts from his interview:
How did you make the transition from the corporate world to becoming a full-time composer?
I come from a typical middle-class Indian background, where the focus is on getting a good education. Since I was academically inclined, I pursued Cost Accountancy and an MBA in Marketing. After that, I took up a job at an NBFC (Non-Banking Financial Company), followed by work in events, and eventually joined EMI Virgin as a Marketing Manager. Over time, I grew into the role of Business Head and later Country Head for South Asia at EMI Virgin in India. During this phase, I launched and promoted albums such as Shaan’s Tanha Dil and Ab Ke Sawan by Subha Mudgal, among others.
I slowly changed lanes—from marketing financial services to marketing events, cassettes, and CDs back in the day—and eventually rose to become the Managing Director. Throughout this journey, however, I desperately wanted to express my musicality and become a composer and music director. At the time, the industry was not as democratized as it is today, and I had no idea how to approach film producers or music labels.
Gradually, because I was already within the music industry after moving from finance, I began making contacts, understanding the ecosystem, and eventually stepping into music direction and composition myself. In the mid-1990s, I was involved in organising Miss World in Seychelles in 1996—an experience that marked a decisive shift from financial services to events, entertainment and global brand-led spectacles.
Today, people often talk about changing lanes and the concept of Ikigai—the idea that we have one life and should pursue our dreams. I consider myself fortunate that back in 2006, I was able to give up a very well-paying job that was taking me to Singapore and then London, just to pursue my passion for composing music.
You’ve worked across films, advertising, independent music, and branded content. How does your creative process change across these formats, and where do you feel the most artistic freedom today?
At its core, music is music, and the principles of creativity remain the same whether you’re composing for films, advertising, jingles, or branded content. Just as one takes a robust brief from a brand and creates either a music-based IP or a standalone song, similarly, one takes a detailed brief for a feature film, reads the script, and then begins scoring.
Therefore, I’m very happy to have been part of a trilogy of National Award-winning films with Madhur Bhandarkar like Page 3, Corporate, and Traffic Signal, among others. The process of creating music remains largely the same but understanding the brief whether it’s for an OTT series, a feature film, or a corporate brand is crucial. One must truly soak in the raison d’être of why the music is being created before approaching the composition process.
Many of your film scores are known for restraint rather than excess. In an era that often rewards loud, instantly viral music, how do you decide when to hold back?
The kind of subjects I’ve worked on throughout my career are films where being loud was simply not an option. If I had the opportunity to score for films featuring actors like Salman Khan or Akshay Kumar, I would have gone all out, because as creators, we are versatile.
However, most of the filmmakers I’ve collaborated with—such as Sudhir Mishra, Mahesh Manjrekar, and Madhur Bhandarkar—are intellectuals with a very specific sensibility toward their cinema and its music. It’s important for me to align myself with that sensibility rather than going loud for the sake of it. It’s like how we approach brands like Brooke Bond or others, where the objective is to touch the emotions of the consumer rather than overwhelm them.
You often talk about marrying music with socio-political awareness. Why is it important for music to have a social message?
As music makers and dreamers of dreams, our responsibility as a creative fraternity is, of course, to entertain people. But within that entertainment, we can also embed a certain message—something that leads to infotainment or edutainment.
Having experienced both the left brain and the right brain which is the corporate world and the creative world– I transitioned from being a Managing Director to a Music Director, and I’ve always felt it is our responsibility to see whether we can use music as a tool to spread awareness on important issues.
Whether it’s gender equality, mental health, or other social subjects, a lot of our work has been recognized globally. Being awarded the Glass Grand Prix at the Cannes Festival for our transgender band is a testament to that. It also suggests that, at times, we receive more recognition overseas than within India. But that’s acceptable to us as long as we’re able to influence thought and create change.
AI tools are increasingly being used to generate melodies, lyrics, and even vocal textures. Do you see AI as a collaborator or a risk to originality—and where do you draw the ethical line?
I see AI as a useful companion, primarily as a research tool or for creating demos and scratch tracks using our own lyrics and self-composed melodies. I don’t think it’s fair to use AI to create original works. At best, it can be used to generate directional demos that help producers or clients get a sense of the vibe.
Even then, I would be cautious—at least until proper legislation is in place and the original creative fraternity, including sound recording master owners, is adequately compensated. Work is underway in this space, and once things fall into place legally, I’ll be happy to align. Until then, I will continue to write and compose my own music and use AI only for creating samples.
I have worked on a project with Universal Music India and Devraj Sanyal on Ek Aur Baar Kishore Kumar—a project that set an industry precedent by keeping the original voice of Kishore Kumar alive without the use of artificial intelligence.
What advice do you have for new artists trying to get into the industry?
It’s wonderful to be an artist, and it’s even more admirable to pursue your passion. However, it doesn’t always have to become your profession. Having a Plan B is not a bad idea. There are only a limited number of films and OTT series produced each year, and the demand for music can be met by a relatively small pool of creators. It’s simply a demand-supply equation—a basic principle of economics.
Artists can continue doing independent work, but if it doesn’t generate sufficient income, they shouldn’t make their families suffer. There is absolutely no shame in doing a day job and pursuing music or any other art form during evenings or weekends. Not everyone who sets out to be an artist will gain widespread acceptance, and one shouldn’t take that personally or allow it to affect their mental health.
Another important piece of advice for young artists is to remember that artists are citizens first. They must be informed, follow taxation laws, and understand basic finance, administration, and professional ethics. Being an artist doesn’t exempt one from these responsibilities. Academic education is not a bad thing at all.
Many young artists tell us they’ve given up their studies to pursue art, and my response is always the same—why not be an educated artist?