This was easily one of my favorite collaborations over the years. From the moment that we took on the project, one thing was always clear — the song, its vibe, and its visuals would revolve around a single emotion: reminiscence. Nothing more, nothing less.
Pre-Production
When singer–songwriter Sidharth Bendi unearthed a grainy DV clip of himself and his sister playing on his seventh birthday (circa 2006), the footage hit him harder than any lyric he’d written. The memory’s innocence clashed with adult fatigue and self-doubt—the very tension he explores in the song “2006.”
With that idea locked, our brief at 9th Ray Studios was razor-simple:
- Keep the home video front-and-center.
- Stage the entire story inside Bendi’s current studio bedroom.
- Show the clash of timelines—childhood glow vs. adult clutter—without leaving the room.
No elaborate mood-board, no exotic locations. We drafted a tight shot list and leaned on improvisation to milk every corner of the ten-foot room.
Production & Post
Three nights, 7 p.m.–3 a.m.—that was the schedule. Every extra hour meant extra rental fees, so blocking had to be clinical. We staged clutter as character: stacked notebooks, dim fairy lights, a tangle of cables framing Bendi’s isolation.
- Favourite shot: a slow truck-in as Bendi opens a drawer, lifts a CD of his previous album
- Challenges: tiny space, zero margin for reshoots, and lighting that had to look accidental yet cinematic.
- Editorial workflow: Adobe Premiere Pro only; five drafts to final.
- Grade: no LUTs—just a clean, contrasty film look with subtle purple lows, finished off with letterbox bars. Ninety percent of the “cinema” came from the on-set lighting itself.
Color grading was made significantly smoother thanks to our workflow—shooting in 12-bit ProRes RAW via the Atomos Ninja V monitor-recorder paired with the Nikon Z6. This setup gave us immense flexibility in post, preserving rich color data and dynamic range even in low-light interiors. Having that extra headroom allowed us to confidently underexpose certain shots for mood without sacrificing tonal integrity—making the grade more of a sculpting process than a salvage mission.
Reflection & Audience Reation
Creating 2006 was more than a production—it was a personal excavation. As we peeled back layers of adulthood to revisit the fragile wonder of childhood, it became clear that this video wasn’t just telling Siddharth’s story—it was reflecting something universally felt yet rarely articulated. That silent ache for simpler times. That longing for self-compassion.
For me and the team at 9th Ray Studios, this project reaffirmed a core truth: cinematic storytelling isn’t about scale or spectacle—it’s about intention. Working with limited space, a minimal budget, and a skeletal gear setup reminded us that restraint can be powerful when the emotion is honest and the framing is deliberate. The video’s most striking moments—like the truck-in toward the CD, or the fetal crouch under moody backlight—weren’t planned to impress. They were meant to remember.
The response validated everything we hoped to evoke. YouTube comments came pouring in with things such as, “Can’t stop watching this. I’m obsessed with this video,” also “The song and video truly express the feeling of being helpless while the help required is just a call away.,” and “a 10/10 song elevated to a 100/10 video.” Many resonated deeply with the themes of burnout, inner conflict, and nostalgic grief. Some shared their own versions of ‘2006’—old birthdays, faded VHS tapes, lost connections. It became a digital campfire, where vulnerability didn’t just live in the lyrics but also flickered in every frame.
As a creative lead, I walked away with clarity: nostalgia done right isn’t just retro aesthetics—it’s emotional excavation. It’s finding a language for what we’ve forgotten how to feel.