The top Bollywood films of the 1960s (1960 to 1969): The decade of 1960s was unique for Bollywood in many ways. The legends like Dilip Kumar, Shammi Kapoor, Rajender kumar, Sunil Dutt, Raj Kapoor, Dev Anand, Dharmendra were the leading heroes.
The 1970s was arguably the single decade of the 20th century when recorded music was most central to culture. There were, of course, fewer kinds of media competing for the average consumer’s time—television meant just a handful of channels, video games were the size of refrigerators and could be found in arcades.
As the used vinyl bins of the world are still telling us, records were the thing. Labels were flush with cash, sales of LPs and singles were brisk, and record stores were everywhere. Home stereos were a standard part of middle-class culture.
Analog recording technology was at its zenith, FM radio was ascendant, and the AM dial still focused on music. The children of the baby boom were coming into their late twenties and thirties—young enough to still be serious music consumers, but old enough to have their own generation of children who were starting to buy music. And then there was the music itself. Disco, an entire cultural movement fueled by a genre of music—with massive impact on fashion, film, TV and advertising—was utterly ubiquitous.
Rock music emerged from the ’60s as to go-to choice of white youth culture. Soul and funk were reaching new levels of artistry. Punk, the first serious backlash against the rock mainstream, came into its own. Records from Jamaica were making their way to the UK and, eventually, the U.S., changing sounds and urging a new kind of political consciousness.
As culture moved in every direction at once, there were more great songs than anyone could count. As voted by our full time staff and contributors, these are Pitchfork's 200 best songs of the 1970s. Listen to the best songs of the 1970s on. There’s no shame in being a muse—preening in silk robes on the couch, tousled hair parting to reveal full lips pouting around a cigarette, tossing off bon mots of aching elegance that nestle into the subconscious and reappear as pop hits.
If that’s how wanted to spend his days, more power to him. Was most famous in the ’60s as the blonde, boho moll of frontman, whose career was twined to his and widely assumed dependent on his gifts: her version of the Stones’ “As Tears Go By” was a hit in England; her near-fatal heroin overdose became “Wild Horses,” and her begat “Sympathy for the Devil;” she co-wrote “Sister Morphine.” But Jagger was also something of Faithfull’s muse, inspiring many entries in her prodigious Decca Records output of the late 1960s. By the end of the 1970s, a decade in which she’d weathered drug abuse and homelessness (and long ended her high-profile love), Faithfull refused to be diminished for one more day., her first rock record in 12 years, was the comeback triumph no one expected, not least in how gritty it was. The chilling title track is a prophetic merging of punk and dance, with lyrics that plumb the depths of her losses.
“Could have come through anytime/Cold lonely, puritan,” she intones harshly, gliding into a bloodless snarl that would make Johnny Rotten flinch. “What are you fighting for?/It’s not my security.” It’s a terse, battle-scarred declaration of autonomy with hairpin melodic turns, early in its embrace of dance music’s dark possibilities.
“Broken English” is the portrait of a true survivor, starting a new era on her terms, alone. –Stacey Anderson Listen: See also: Lene Lovich: “” / Amanda Lear: “”. Even as her sensibilities shifted from jazz to fusion to R&B and disco, focused on her keyboards while everything else swirled around them.
On “Haven’t You Heard,” the piano is an anchor for the song. This can make it feel like an early skeleton of house music, which is appropriate—it was a touchstone of ’s sets at the Paradise Garage, and was eventually reborn as gospel house in Kirk Franklin’s 2005 single “Looking for You.” “Haven’t You Heard” is a formally perfect expression of disco. The best disco songs imply infinity in both their length and groove, and always feel as if they’re attached to a black hole.
“Haven’t You Heard” enhances time until it feels like the glitter of a cityscape unfurling through a cab window. It manages this even as the lyric itself is private—the literal text of a classified ad. “It only says ‘I’m looking for the perfect guy,’” Rushen sings, searching for connection not through direct communication but with ambient speech.
This kind of intimacy, personified by the whispery translucence of Rushen’s voice, is just as easily exported to the dance floor. –Brad Nelson Listen: See also: Anita Ward: “” / “Herb Alpert: ”.
Like the best outlaw country, “Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?” looks backwards and forwards simultaneously, finding inspiration in the past even as it wonders what’s around the next curve in the road. Jennings and his peers were traditionalists who bucked the very notion of tradition. All of them had been manhandled by the industry, but few bristled against the mainstream quite as strongly as Jennings, who found himself on a series of poorly planned tours that left him deep in debt to his label and addicted to amphetamines.
If this were just a song about all the “rhinestone suits and new shiny cars” that defined country music around the bicentennial, it would have been only a minor antagonism. But outlaw country rarely gets credit for its humor or its self-deprecation, and what lends the song its gravity, aside from the world-weariness of Waylon’s vocals, is his sly assessment of his own place in the industry. Despite the hits he’d been notching for a decade, he was still just another road warrior who idolized Hank Sr. But still saw him as an almost hilariously impossible standard against which to measure himself or anybody else. –Stephen Deusner Listen: See also: Willie Nelson: “” / Jerry Reed: “”. ’ s “Taj Mahal” is ostensibly about the famous tomb in Agra, India. The building was created by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan, as a tribute to his fourth wife, Mumtaz Mahal, after her death during the birth of the couple’s 14th child.
“ Foi a mais linda historia de amor,” sings the Brazilian singer Ben: “It was the most pretty story of love.” The couple’s romance must have been strong stuff: the tomb was commissioned the year after her death, in 1632, and wasn't finished until 1653, at a cost of approximately $827 million in today’s dollars. Ben’s original version of the song, recorded for his 1972 album Ben, is a subdued gem. But the version recorded for his massive 1976 crossover album Africa Brasil exudes joy, sparks flying from every exuberant note. The record would end up getting —whose “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?” bore a strong resemblance—sued.
It’s not difficult, though, to see what Stewart saw in its jubilant DNA (unconsciously, according to his autobiography ). “Taj Mahal” captures an unselfconscious excitement, a purity of a deeply familiar feeling, yet projects it at a scale that can cross decades—perhaps centuries. –David Drake Listen: See also: Jorge Ben: “” / Tim Maia: “”. This track is really three ’70s reggae classics in one: ’s “Chase the Devil,” Prince Jazzbo’s “Croaking Lizard,” and ’s mix of both with his own vocals. All this and more gets tossed in the pot in the nearly seven-minute-long “Disco Devil.” “Disco” doesn’t reference the flashy dance genre of the same name but rather the concept of the “discomix,” a 12” vinyl format that contains a vocal song seamlessly followed by a dub remix or a deejay version (meaning a rapped performance over the rhythm track). Perry essentially released a dub version of the Romeo and Jazzbo tracks, then followed it with a dub of the dub.
It’s a particularly effective example of Perry’s innovative, eccentric production style that transforms the studio into an instrument itself. The approach to “Disco Devil” demonstrates the many ways he was able to pull pieces of a song apart and put them back together, add snippets of lyrics and sounds, and shape deep bass and rippling guitar to glide as if underwater. –Erin Macleod Listen: See also: Max Romeo: “” / Augustus Pablo: “”. A decade before lifted it for “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’,” and long before sampled Jackson’s version in “Don’t Stop the Music” (and both got sued for uncleared usage), “Soul Makossa” was a disco scene staple. It started as the B-side to a hymn wrote for his native Cameroon’s football team in honor of their country hosting the 1972 Africa Cup of Nations. By then, the jazz saxophonist was already well established, but the record was a huge flop.
In his autobiography, Dibango recalls how kids and adults alike ridiculed his stuttering repetition of that now-familiar refrain: “Ma-ma-ko ma-ma-sa mako-makossa!” It was only when he rerecorded it in Paris, and that version fell into the hands of New York Loft DJ David Mancuso and radio DJ Frankie Crocker, that it spread like wildfire, even cracking the American Top 40. Historically, makossa, the popular Cameroonian dance music, is a mix of soukous, highlife, and traditional Douala dance rhythms.
Dibango douses it in soul, funk, and jazz to the point that “Soul Makossa” is more funky proto-disco than it is makossa. But that reimagining is also what made the song such a phenomenon; it played to people’s ideas of what a cosmopolitan African continent sounded like, presented in a format they were familiar with. In the decades to come, “Soul Makossa” would be sampled countless times over, including by the on The Score and on.
“Soul Makossa” remains brilliant in its musical malleability. –Minna Zhou Listen: See also: Chakachas: “” / Lafayette Afro Rock Band: “”. The no wave scene in late ’70s New York was notorious for its room-clearing nihilism. Noisy, confrontational bands such as, and looked to bury the corpse of rock’n’roll by rejecting its rules. Yet one of the most iconic no wave tunes, & the Contortions’ “Contort Yourself,” is less an anti-song than a body-moving dance-craze ditty.
“Now is time to lose all control/Distort your body, twist your soul,” Chance yelps over the tightly wound groove of his quintet, who sound like an unhinged version of band the J.B.’s. But as “Contort Yourself” progresses, Chance’s destructive attitude creeps in. His screams get longer (“Forget about your future!”), his saxophone gets noisier, and slide guitars scrape across the song like rakes over concrete. By the end, Chance advocates total annihilation: “Once you forget your affection for the human race/Reduce yourself to zero, and then you’ll fall in place.” Still, “Contort Yourself” is nihilism you can dance to, and it typified the Contortions’ unique mix of punk, funk, and jazz. That mix would influence many danceable early ’80s New York bands—,—and point toward the disco scene that eventually took over Manhattan.
But no one could replicate the sharp mania of “Contort Yourself,” a song that still twists and shouts. –Marc Masters Listen: See also: A Certain Ratio: “” / Teenage Jesus & The Jerks: “”. “Baby's on Fire” is barely a song, in the conventional sense—two chords mercilessly alternating for five minutes, a single snatch of melody repeated with almost no variation, a lyric that sidles around clear sense, and a guitar solo that takes up more than half of its running time. It divided the listeners of ’s first solo album, Here Come the Warm Jets, into those who got it and those who were left eating its ashes. For all its minimalism, there's a lot going on in this song: a celebration of a catastrophe happening in plain view, knotty wordplay and snappy onomatopoeia, and the vicious camp of Eno’s vocal (there’s an arch, shivering grin behind the way he enunciates, “This kind of experience/Is necessary for her learning”). The track’s centerpiece is the conflagration of and Paul Rudolph’s all-devouring instrumental break with Eno’s “treatments” spraying fuel all over it.
Before “Baby’s on Fire” and Warm Jets, Eno had been the eccentric, glammy keyboardist in; after them, he became known as the ingenious weirdo who thought about sound in ways nobody else did. –Douglas Wolk Listen: See also: Brian Eno: “ / Brian Eno: “”. ’ voice is where pleasure meets pain, so of course she had to cut a song about S&M.
People speculated whether “He Was a Big Freak” concerned her ex-husband, or her rumored (and denied) lover,. It wasn’t about either, Davis said, though she admitted that her dominatrix’s “turquoise chain” was a reference to Hendrix’s favorite color. Gossip aside, Davis’ act was scandalizing because it starred a powerful young black woman in control of her own desires. On “Freak,” she takes on various roles in order to meet her partner’s needs—housewife, geisha, mother—but sounds so intoxicated by her power that his satisfaction becomes secondary. Her delivery evokes a woman possessed as she roars and vamps through her seduction. Davis keeps switching gears until a new darkness emerges from her throat, and a storm rises from the guitar.
Her pointillist funk thrust loses its precision and starts stumbling in the perilous ascent towards climax. Eventually, “Freak” fades out, though Davis is still roaring as the mix dims. It feels like she’s just getting started. –Laura Snapes Listen: See also: Betty Davis: “ / Millie Jackson:“ ”.
Born Leo Morris, drummer Idris Muhammad played with dozens of jazz giants before and after taking his Muslim name, but found his artistic voice at Kudu, CTI’s soul crossover label, where he collaborated with David Matthews, a keyboardist who arranged and co-wrote several hits. You don’t have to have a degree in composition like Matthews did to wrap your head around the melodic composure of “Could Heaven Ever Be Like This,” their peak achievement together and Muhammad’s biggest hit.
Singular, spiritual, and straight-up gorgeous, “Heaven” silences even the staunchest disco-hater. Elements of the song have been repeatedly sampled and replayed, but its bittersweet harmonies are best experienced the way DJs played it back in the spring of 1977 and for many years to come: from its first effusive note to its very end.
Over the course of eight-and-a-half minutes, “Heaven” takes dancers on an exquisite journey, the arrangement soaring from ethereal harp to Brecker Brothers horn blasts to raucous rock guitar. Too otherworldly to be championed by every DJ, “Heaven” was nevertheless so beloved by those who did that it reached No.
2 on Billboard’s dance chart. The only subsequent record to truly do it justice, ’s “Loud Places” honors that it’s not simply a dance song, but also a prayer. –Barry Walters Listen: See also: Candido: “” / Kiki Gyan: “”.
Falsetto is frequently used in reggae, but not often is there a track as gently piercing as ’s 1976 classic. As resonant now as it was then, Murvin’s song about the militarization of police reflects reality far beyond Jamaica, leveling the playing field between the illegal and the legal. “All the peacemakers turn war officers,” sings a prescient Murvin. “Police and thieves in the streets, oh yeah/Scaring the nation with their guns and ammunition.” It was an important soundtrack of protest when it was released in London in the summer of 1976, during racial tensions that led to riots during the Notting Hill Festival and unrest in Brixton. The track has been re-recorded a number of times, most famously by the on their debut album. However, the original, recorded in the legendary Black Ark studio, is a textbook production.
There’s that perfect amount of echo, carrying Murvin’s vocal improvisations and the humming chorus along, making them bounce off the walls and charge ever forward. –Erin Macleod Listen: See also: Junior Murvin: “” / Horace Andy: “”. On his previous Eurodisco hits, the French drummer mirrored ’s long, sensual suites with while accentuating both their symphonic splendor and kickdrum wallops. For the title track of his second 1977 album, he took a page from Summer’s “I Feel Love” and similarly traded soaring strings for undulating synths, but did so without the overt sex. Instead, he and cowriter Alain Winsniak introduced an unprecedented strain of dystopian disco dread. Neither nor Berlin-era had an immediate international dancefloor impact as profound as “Supernature.” Years before GMOs became a food source and organic crops a common alternative, “Supernature” sang of an imagined past when science introduced agricultural breakthroughs with unanticipated consequences. “The potions that we made touched the creatures down below/And they grew up in a way that we’d never seen before,” warns English session vocalist Kay Garner with a star-quality growl oozing menace and authority.
As the track grows more sinister, mutant monsters take their revenge until humanity reverts to a primitive state where it must once again earn its place. How did such a deep sci-fi theme find its way into an album that sold huge numbers and paved the way for space disco, techno, acid house, and other dark dance floor strains?
The future new wave icon Lene Lovich wrote these uncredited ecological lyrics. She’d soon use her fame to raise consciousness for animal rights. –Barry Walters Listen: See also: Space: “” / Gino Soccio: “”.
The Whispers formed in Los Angeles in the mid-’60s and were hardly seen as cutting-edge by the time they released “And the Beat Goes On” in 1979. But they were in fact pushing boundaries, thanks in large part to the genius of SOLAR label producer Leon Sylvers, who, along with record producer Kashif, was one of the most important composers in late-’70s/early-’80s R&B.
Together, on opposite sides of the country—Kashif in New York, Sylvers in Los Angeles—the two charted a path post-disco, incorporating new electronic elements and playing with grooves. “And the Beat Goes On” was one of Sylvers’ most successful records as a producer, hitting No.
19 on the Hot 100. The groove was so modern, it was the product of a Will Smith one-track-jack in the late ’90s, when the rapper’s “ ” lifted liberally from the post-disco classic; the record had aged well, its quick strings and electronic textures as fresh as they day they were recorded. –David Drake Listen: See also: Detroit Emeralds: “” / Leon Haywood: “”. “Don’t Leave Me This Way” first took shape in 1975 in a more modest arrangement, as a Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes song sung by Teddy Pendergrass. Pendergrass’s tender vocals keep the songs as two distinct components—a verse and a chorus separated neatly by scale and intensity. When Thelma Houston recorded the song for Motown a year later, her arrangement reached for the sky; the version accelerates steadily, a gentle melancholy lifting off into the denser and more pressurized atmosphere of disco. Throughout, Rhodes piano shimmers like light filtering through clouds.
Houston’s performance is remarkable: her vocals are as composed as they are exposed, stable as they are sensitive. “I can’t survive,” Houston sings, her voice occasionally collapsing into a whisper. “I can’t stay alive/Without your love.” It’s this complexity that, years later, led the song to be embraced as a metaphor for the devastation of AIDS in the gay community. –Brad Nelson Listen: See also: Harold Melvin & The Bluenotes: “” / Evelyn 'Champagne' King: “”.
It’s ironic that one of the all-time greatest Philly soul acts weren’t even from Philadelphia. The Spinners hailed from Detroit—they were even billed as “the Detroit Spinners” in the UK—and like most of the city’s top talent at the time, they recorded on Motown, where they landed the Stevie Wonder-penned hit “It’s a Shame.” But it was only after signing to Atlantic Records that they truly found their voice. Under the guidance of super-producer Thom Bell, they embodied the sound of ’70s Philadelphia soul: lush, sensual, and ridiculously generous, all strings and bells and orchestral grandeur. That’s a lot to juggle, and some of Bell’s lesser productions collapsed under the weight of their arrangements, especially once disco pressured them to become busier and busier, but the Spinners had the delicate touch to pull it all off. Just years earlier, they’d been shouting and wailing, but the best moments of “Could It Be I’m Falling in Love” are practically whispered; every time lead vocalist Bobbie Smith is offered the opportunity to go loud, he goes soft, letting Bell’s dulcet accompaniments do the singing for him. The restraint adds even more depth to his coos of, “I don't need all those things that used to bring me joy/You've made me such a happy boy.” The ’70s yielded countless songs about falling in love, but few are as blissful as this.
–Evan Rytlewski Listen: See also: Spinners: “” / Isley Brothers: “”. Not many can challenge as the foremost architect of ’70s rock. As a producer, he shaped defining albums for Grand Funk Railroad, and.but also the, and the Tubes.
In his simultaneous solo career, he stayed one step ahead of the trends he solidified with other artists, veering between soft-rock rebellion, prog fantasias, and experiments in song suites and remakes. Triangulating Rundgren’s busy decade is nearly impossible, but “International Feel”—the lead track from his frenetic A Wizard, A True Star—does a fine job. Recorded at the ad-hoc Secret Sound studio Rundgren built in a New York City loft, the song balances between his audiophile obsessions and pop instincts. It’s Philly soul in a spacesuit, fading in with revving engine sound effects, tickled from all sides by synthesizer sprites, propelled by heavily filtered drums that sound lifted from a session. The use of “International Feel” in ’s 2006 film Electroma only confirmed its otherworldly futurism, and that Rundgren was ahead of his time even as he played a preeminent role in defining it. –Rob Mitchum Listen: See also: The Move: “” / Dennis Wilson: “”.
When guitarist Julz Sale, bassist Ros Allen, and other bassist Bethan Peters came together to form in 1979, they decided to double up on the low end because, as Allen has said, “neither of us played guitar, and we thought it would make the music more exciting.” They were not wrong. Part of a contingent of Leeds art instigators that included and, the socialist funk-punk pioneers released their iconic debut single on Rough Trade just as the ’70s were petering out. The song opens with a tense soda-counter come-on that bleeds feminist sarcasm: “Can I have a taste of your ice cream?” the three women deadpan in unison. “Can I lick the crumbs from your table?
Can I interfere in your crisis?” They gnarl knots of guitar noise until the whole song sounds like a collective effort to suffocate those same questions, but only after telling the leader of the pack to fuck right off: “No, mind your own business!” This one genius idea on loop set Delta 5 on their way. –Jenn Pelly Listen: See also: Mekons: “” / Slits: “”. “Caravan” fits into an established tradition of songs about listening, a metatextual lyric about gathering with friends and dancing to a song on the radio, made into a song one might gather with friends and dance to. When it appears on a classic rock radio playlist, the lyric becomes abruptly instructional. “Turn it up!” Van exhorts.
“Little bit higher! Radio!” Syntax crumbles in the whirl and flutter of his emotions. “Caravan” has a kind of rhomboid structure, its energies constantly building toward an acute angle; the individual instruments in the song—including ’s voice—combine and swell into a wordless chorus: “La la la la la la la.” This is, essentially, the vocabulary of rhythm and blues, which Morrison, on “Caravan”’s album Moondance, had finally, almost seamlessly absorbed into his own music, and of which “Caravan” is its most excited expression. –Brad Nelson Listen: See also: Van Morrison: “” / Randy Newman: “”.
Contents. Highest-grossing films The ten highest-grossing films at the Indian Box Office in 1960: Rank Title Cast 1., 2., Madhubala 3. Dilip Kumar, 4., 5., 6. Raaj Kumar, Meena Kumari 7., Sadhana 8., 9., Nanda 10., Waheeda Rehman A-D Title Director Cast Genre Notes, Family Drama Music by Vedpal Sharma. Dubbed in Hindi from Tamil, Family Drama Nanda won the. Music: Lyrics: Vasant Joglekar.
Aakkoo, Fantasy Adventure Music: Lyrics: Shewan Rizvi Daljeet, Naina, Fantasy Music by Vipin Datta, lyrics by Noor Devasi, Anwar Farukhabadi B. Patel, Malini, Mirajkar Action Music: Lyrics: Ramanna, Drama Music: Sanmukh Babu.
Lyrics: Vinod Sharma,. Dubbed in Hindi from Tamil, Adventure Drama Music:, Lyrics:, Ranu, Family Social Entered in the, Music: Lyrics: Ram Pahwa, Nanda, Moti Sagar, Kammo, Krishan Dhawan Family Social Music:, lyrics: Mohan Sehgal, Sayeeda, Sabita Chatterjee, Comedy Romance Music: Lyrics:, story-, Sulochana Choudhury, Azra Historical Music. Lyrics by Kundan Kumar, Family Drama Music:. Lyrics: Kumar, Pramila, Azurie, Sheela Vaz Social Music: Lyrics: Kay Cee Kay Ram Mohan, Manju, Kamal Mehra, Radhika Action Adventure Music: B. Bali Jaswant Zaveri Kanchan Kamini, Lalita Kumari Drama Action Music: Pardeshi Lyrics: Pt. Madhur, Romance, Drama Music:.
Lyrics: Aspi Irani,. Social Drama Music. Lyrics by, Musical Romance Music. Lyrics by Bibhuti Mitra, Kammo, Romance Drama Music.
Lyrics by, I. Johar, Comedy Romance Music. Lyrics by, Devotional Music. Shankar, Devotional Dubbed in Hindi. Music by Dilip Roy. Lyrics By Saraswati Kumar Deepak, Vijaya Choudhary, Family Drama Music by, Lyrics by, Nazma, Habib Action Music. Lyrics by Akkoo, Habib, Nazma Action Music: Lyrics: Tabish Kanpuri, Saba Afghani, Manohar Deepak Crime Drama Music by, Lyrics by R.
Balam Samar Roy, Action Music by Shyam Babu Pathak, Lyrics by R. Kent Kamran, Action Music: Hemant Kedar Lyrics: Rajaram Saki Ram Daryani, Drama Social Music. Thakur, Kavita, Romance Costume Drama Music.
Lyrics by, Romance Social Drama Entered in the. Music: Lyrics:, Kaysi Mehra, Social Drama Music by, lyrics by S Ratan.
Old Hindi Songs 1960 To 1970 Free Download
Nutan sang 'ae mere humsafar', Social Romance Music:, assisted. Lyrics by, Romance Drama Music: Lyrics: Mohammed Hussain, Action Adventure Music. Lyrics by, Romantic Drama Music by, lyrics.
Famous song: Ajeeb Dastan Hai Yeh, Arjun Hingorani, Drama Social Music by, lyrics by, K L Pardesi. Debut movie of Dharmendra Dwarka Khosla, Jeevankala Social Drama Music by, lyrics by K.
Anand, Chitra, Social Action Music by, lyrics by Shriram Bohra, Thriller Action Music. Lyrics by, Family Social Music: Lyrics: E-M Title Director Cast Genre Notes Children Festival Short Film category Raj Rishi, Sharda, Family Drama Music by, lyrics:, Gopi and Tun Tun. Family Comedy Romance Music: Lyrics:, Action Thriller Music: Lyrics:, Family Drama -, Family Drama Social Music: Lyrics:, Romance Family Social Music: Lyrics: Lekhraj Bhakri, Sayeeda Khan, Vijaya Choudhury Family Drama Music: Lyrics:, Family Social Drama Popular song: Chhodo Kal Ki Baaten, Kal Ki Baat Puraani Music: Lyrics:, Crime Social Romance Music: Lyrics:, Social Music: Lyrics: Y.
Pethkar, Raja Gosavi, Vivek, Nalini Chonkar Social Music: B N Bali Lyrics: Hari Malik Ved Madan, Minu Mumtaz Thriller Drama Music: Dattaram Wadkar Lyrics:, Romance Drama Music: Lyrics: Rakhan, Drama Romance Music: Lyrics:, Crime Courtroom Drama Music: There were no songs in the movie. Chopra won the (1962) for Kanoon, Costume Drama Music: Lyrics: A.
Hindi Songs 1960 To 1970
Khan Nilima, Azad, Costume Thriller Action Music: Suresh Talwar Lyrics:, Saba Afghani, Munshi Nayab Lal Quila, Kumar, Historical Musical Romance Music: Lyrics:, Romance Music: Lyrics:, Family Social Drama Music: Chitragupta Lyrics: Mandi Burman, Krishan Dhawan, and Romance Musical Music: Lyrics:,. Family Children Screenwriter Ruby Sen won the.
Nominated for Music:, for Nani Teri Morni Ko Lyrics: Babubhai Mistri, Manhar Desai, Raj Kumar Mythology Costume Music: Ramlal-Heerapanna Lyrics: Pt. Madhur, Deepak, Keshav Muhafiz Haider, Chanchal, Comedy Suspense Romance Music: Lyrics:, Sohrab Modi, Family Drama Music: Lyrics: Jugal Kishore, Tiwari Action Romance Music: Lyrics: Jugal Kishore, Agha, Social Romance Music: Lyrics:, Shreekant Gaurab, Family Social Music: Lyrics: B. Ranga, Romance Action Costume Music: Lyrics: Shri Ram Saaz Ramayan Tiwari, Romance Social Music: Lyrics:, Historical Costume Romance Music: Lyrics:. The film also won three: Best Film, Best Cinematography, and Best Dialogue N-Z Title Director Cast Genre Notes Tara Harish, Costume Drama Music: Lyrics:, Maruti, Sheela Kashmiri Family Drama Music: Lyrics: Sarvar N. Buli Daljeet, Radhika, Romance Social Music:, Nirmal Kumar, Social Satire Drama Music: Lyrics:. Bimal Roy won the; Motilal the and George D'Cruz the Suraj Prakash, Hargovind Duggal, Family Drama Crime Music: Lyrics: Akkoo, Chitra, V M Vyas, Tiwari, Pedro:monkey Action Music: Bulo C.
Rani Lyrics: Khawar Zamaa Hemant, Nitin, Dattaram, Ramesh Children Social Won the Gold Medal for best children's film at the National Awards. Music: Shivram Krishna Lyrics:, Anwar, Social Action Music: Lyrics: Mohammed Hussain, Chitra, Shyam Kumar, Kamal Mehra Action Music: (Shaukat Ali Dehlavi) Lyrics:, Ismail, Music: Lyrics:, Majnu, Action Music: Lyrics:, Pyarelal Santoshi, Kaif Irfani Dharam Kumar, Action Music: Lyrics: Dhirubhai Desai, Nilofar, Jankidas. Vyas Drama Music: Sardar Malik Lyrics: Bharat Vyas Shanker Mukerji, Anwar Hussein, Social Romance Drama Music: Lyrics:, Daljeet, Action Costume Music: Sudipto Bannerjee Lyrics: Pratap, Social Drama Music: Lyrics:, Maria Menado, Thriller Romance Music: Lyrics:, Anant Thakur, Neeta Action Music: Lyrics: Kamran, Kamal Mehra, Rajan Kapoor Action Drama Music: Nisar Lyrics: Trunk Call Balraj Mehta Shyama, Abhi Bhattacharya, Action Drama Music: Lyrics:, Ratan Kumar, Social Romance Music: Lyrics:, Romance Drama War Music: Lyrics: Veer Durgadas Ramchandra Thakur, B. Vyas, Historical Social Drama Music: Lyrics: Children Social Based on a poem by Ramanlal Desai Chitra, Action Music: Lyrics:, Farid Tonki, Aziz Siddiqui, Anwar, Kumud Tripathi, Social Children Drama Music: Lyrics: Pandit Madhur (Zimbo Shaher Mein), Chitra, Nilofar Action Music: Lyrics.