Arpit Bala’s Keychain Laalu Album Review
For the longest time, Arpit Bala has been boxed into a very specific image: the funny, absurd, quirky streamer whose humour travels faster than his music. Even within certain sections of the industry, it has taken years for him to be taken seriously as a musician, not because the work wasn’t there, but because perception had already been decided.
After Keychain Laalu, if people still struggle to see him as a serious artist, then honestly, it’s hard to know what will change that perception.
This album isn’t just good. It isn’t just “surprisingly mature” or “better than expected”. Keychain Laalu is, without exaggeration, one of the finest albums we’ve heard in recent years when it comes to musicality, composition, and emotional clarity.
Every part of it (the melodies, the arrangements, the sequencing) feels intentional. This isn’t someone experimenting, but someone who has put in a lot of work on getting the right song structures and creating larger-than-life music for the masses.
This album feels like it has been created by an artist who knew exactly what kind of world he wanted to build and took the time to build it properly.
It doesn’t try to prove anything loudly, but instead it just trusts its craft, and that confidence is felt throughout.
The World Of The Album
Spending time with Keychain Laalu feels like sitting with someone who’s being careful, not in a guarded way, but in a way that comes from knowing how easily things can slip.
At the centre of the album sits the idea of amaanat. Love here doesn’t feel claimed or owned, it feels held. Like something you’re responsible for looking after rather than something you get to keep forever. That thought quietly shapes the emotional logic of the album.
A lot of the feelings in this project don’t come out directly. They get placed somewhere else instead — behind eyelids, inside drawers, folded into letters, tucked into habits and routines.
There’s also a constant hesitation running through the album. Questions are asked but not always answered. How close is too close? Is wanting someone enough? Is staying kinder than leaving? The album doesn’t rush to resolve these thoughts. It lets them exist as they are.
Home, in this world, isn’t a fixed place, but something you move towards slowly. Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes it’s a habit.
Other times it’s just a moment that feels safe for a while. And there’s an understanding that it can disappear just as easily as it forms, which is why everything here is treated gently.
Sound, Melody, and Composition
Musically, Keychain Laalu is a joy to sit with. The harmonies across the album are some of the finest we’ve heard in the scene in a long time.
There are moments on the album that recall a 90s-era Mohit Chauhan (not as imitation, but in spirit) that warmth and sincerity where the voice lives inside the song rather than overpowering it.
You can also feel the influence of the Pakistani rock and pop movement of the 80s and 90s — bands like Vital Signs, Junoon, Strings: where melody, emotion, and restraint mattered more than anything else.
The production throughout the album is cinematic and at times almost magical. Layers are added carefully, and space is respected. Even when distortion comes in, it feels intentional rather than careless.
A special shout-out has to go to Angad for his guitar work. On tracks like Rakhlo Tum Chupaake, Taaron Se, and Daraaz Mein, his playing is tasteful and restrained, never flashy, always serving the emotion of the song.
Pyaari Amaanat is obviously a song rooted in love, but it also reads like a subtle reflection on an artist’s life. How people slowly begin to feel a sense of ownership. How admiration can turn into expectation, and the line between love and entitlement blurs. It’s one of those songs that reveals more the longer you live with it.
Which is why it’s almost absurd that an album this carefully made could be written off as “dated”, when Arpit was pitching it to labels.
Nothing about Keychain Laalu feels stuck in the past: it simply refuses to bend itself into whatever the industry has decided is safe or fashionable at the moment. That response says far more about the current state of the Indian music industry than it does about this album.
Too often, music is judged purely on what’s trending and what’s already proven to work. Labels push what feels safe, audiences consume what’s pushed, and the cycle continues. Anything that doesn’t fit neatly into that loop risks being sidelined: no matter how strong it is.
That’s exactly how albums like this usually disappear. Which makes it even more important to acknowledge the conviction it took for Arpit and his team to release Keychain Laalu independently.
Pulling off a project of this scale (sonically, emotionally, structurally) without label backing isn’t easy. It takes belief in the work itself, and for that we salute the whole team.
DR Top 3 Picks
1) Rakhlo Tum Chupaake
What really elevates Rakhlo Tum Chupaake is how deceptively groovy it is. The production leans into a jazzy pocket, with super tight drum programming that keeps the song moving even when the emotions feel heavy.
Arpit’s vocal delivery here carries a warmth that genuinely recalls Shaan, it has the same effortless, conversational musicality where the voice glides instead of pushing.
Add to that some of the finest guitar work on the entire album, tasteful and restrained, never flashy, always serving the song. There’s an interesting contrast at play: the music feels light and fluid, while the lyrics sit in guilt, distance, and careful reconciliation.
That tension is exactly what makes the track so addictive. It’s been on loop for us, and it feels like the perfect way to close the album’s emotional arc before the bonus track and instrumentals take over..
2) Daraaz Mein
Daraaz Mein takes you back to the era of Agnee and Bollywood rock. There’s a very deliberate sense of movement here, the song doesn’t sit in one emotional register.
The opening lines feel almost apologetic: asking for space in a drawer, asking to be kept somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. It’s a beautiful metaphor for wanting to exist in someone’s life without demanding attention, without being torn apart or discarded.
There’s vulnerability here, but also restraint. Lyrically, it almost feels like the POV of a love letter.
What really elevates Daraaz Mein is how the composition mirrors that emotion. The early part of the song feels contained, folded in on itself, and as it progresses, the arrangement grows more intense and expressive, making the emotional shift feel earned rather than forced. That structural awareness is something Arpit consistently gets right across Keychain Laalu.
More than anything, Daraaz Mein highlights Arpit’s strength as a songwriter who understands when to hold back and when to let a song breathe.
3) Pyari Amaanat
As the opening song and the first single, Pyaari Amaanat does a lot of heavy lifting, and it does it effortlessly. It immediately sets the emotional and sonic tone for Keychain Laalu, pulling you into a world that feels warm, intimate, and quietly confident. The hook is easily one of the strongest on the album.
What really stands out is how upbeat and playful the production feels, even though the emotions underneath are anything but shallow.
Structurally, the song keeps shifting just enough to stay interesting. Sections evolve, arrangements open up and pull back in, and the track never sits still for too long. It feels thoughtfully composed rather than formula-driven, which is a theme across the album. You can hear the attention paid to how each part flows into the next.
More than anything, Pyaari Amaanat tells you what kind of album you’re stepping into: one that values melody, care, and emotional clarity over trends.
Final Thoughts
At its core, Keychain Laalu feels like an album about being careful with love, about holding people softly, about knowing when to speak and when to stay quiet. It doesn’t try to define love or solve it, it just stays with it as it is, messy, uncertain, and very human.
If this album doesn’t change how people view Arpit Bala as a musician, then the problem isn’t the music: it’s the lens people are still choosing to look through.
Keychain Laalu is a reminder that melody, care, and intention still matter. And when they’re handled this well, they last far longer than any trend ever will.









One Response