Hollywood Burns - Invaders

Blood Music: 2018

Is synthwave dead? Haha, no, of course it isn't, what a silly thing to insinuate. No genre truly dies, and this one's too young to go into remission just yet. It does, however, feel like the hype behind it has tapered off, which isn't that surprising. The genre's been around for about a decade now, and had its peak of popularity in about half that time. Most of the scene leaders are now firmly established and entrenched, band-wagon jumpers and copy-cats having come and gone. That doesn't mean there isn't room for some new hotness to emerge and make a run for the top of the mountain, but such things seem fewer and further between. It's not enough to just slap some retro synths, Moroder rhythms, and Carpenter themes into your music anymore. A healthy scene needs evolution to remain vibrant, but how can it when the whole point of its existence is thematically singular?

Hollywood Burns may have found a way. If synthwave is all about celebrating the soundtracks to an '80s that never existed, why not extend that to other decades? Say, the '50s, when bombastic Biblical epic scores could rub shoulders with pulpy sci-fi sound experiments?

Opener Opener Titles doesn't shirk on letting you know what you're in for. The orchestra is in full swing, with a Theremin in support (or something emulating it). Don't worry though, folks, you didn't accidentally get something way off the beaten path. This is still a synthwave album from a French producer on Blood Music. Follow-up Black Saucers is full-on Perturbator stylee, is what I'm saying. Just, with more '70s retro synths and pulpy sci-fi sounds, is all, and a wonderful shot of fresh vitality in a genre that can sound all too samey the deeper you dig.

I guess I should mention that a couple of the tracks that appear on Invaders previously appeared on his debut EP First Contact. Given how strong tunes like the aforementioned Black Saucers and Came To Annihilate (vocoder!) are, it's plenty 'nuff to build a full concept album on. And what concept is that? Eh, running through a matinee of old movies being played in some grungy '80s back-alley theatre, I guess. Can't escape that synthwave aesthetic.

But it all sounds in service of laying out all manner of different orchestral swells and wailing synth noises while riding out aggro dark-synth rhythms. Bazaar Of The Damned gets in on some Arabic harmonies, and now you're in a wild chase in some desert adventure movie. Scherzo No. 5 In Death Minor has creepy poltergeist chasing you through foggy graveyards. Revenge Of The Black Saucers has U.F.O.s chasing you through L.A. skylines. Have I mentioned a lot of Invaders as a real 'outrun' feel to it?

So a solid, unique album in synthwave canon. I can't wait to hear what else Hollywood Burns has done! What do you mean he hasn't released anything since? Oh no, please don't be another 'one and done' artist!

Cygna - Opus Ena

iT Records/Ultimae Records: 2011/2014

I thought to myself, here's another digital-only item from Ultimae Records, a part of their push to expand into that market along the likes of Lars Leonhard and all those Nuit Hypnotique #4 releases. I may as well round out that part of my Ultimae collection with this single, thought I, since I'm splurging a little, Opus Ena truly sporting one of the most eye-catching pieces of cover art the label's ever offered – such a lush, deep blue.

It was honestly only after I played it back that I realized this Cygna release was, in fact, of album length, not an EP like those Leonhard releases. Which was fine – more music to enjoy and all – but found it strange that Ultimae would release an LP as a digital-only item. Then I recently discovered that Opus Ena had, in fact, already been released on CD a few years prior on ultra-obscure Greek label iT Records, and that this Ultimae version was a reissue. Oh man, that directly flies in the face of my “don't buy digital if CD is available” mantra, but how was I to know? Save the odd Ultimae compilation track, I'd never heard of Cygna before, so had no hope of stumbling across Opus ένα (Symphonic Ambient Works) without a deep Discoggian dive. I don't feel tricked or anything, but man, I've a rep' to maintain here. It's not my fault! It's not my fault...

Cygna is Mario Sammut, and was part of that Grecian talent raid Ultimae did that included such names like MikTek and Ambientium. Cygna first appeared with Aes Dana's label on the final Fahrenheit Project compilation, and popped up here and there along the way. Lord Discogs doesn't have much other material from him however, and though his Flash website features an exhaustively detailed biography, there hasn't been any updates for a few years now, much less anything uploaded to his Soundcloud. It would seem Mr. Sammut has put Cygna on hiatus, though watch him put out another album within the next few months, effectively making my statement instantly dated. Happens a lot.

Given Ultimae's general move towards minimalist, dubby downtempo and techno in this period, Opus Ena is quite an outlier, sounding more like the label's earlier forays into widescreen downtempo and world beat. Mario likes his traditional classical instruments, see, showing little fear throwing in acoustic guitars, woodwinds, chants, orchestral strings, ethnic drumming, the works. Reminds me quite a bit of Asura whenever he got his Hollywood Historical Epic score on, though Cygna goes for a more mysterious vibe compared to Asura's opulence in such compositions.

The seven tracks are densely packed with instrumentation, with each featuring something unique in the lead. Caucasus is rhythm heavy, while Euclidean Subspace let the synths take charge. Ada is mostly on that guitar 'n strings stylee, while Oubliée Et Perdue goes minimalist with pianos and string drones. Ah, there had to be something jiving with the nu-Ultimae in this album.

Asura - 360

Ultimae Records: 2010

For the longest time, 360 was a reminder of just how down and out my mental state was in 2010. I should have been hyped over Asura's follow-up to Life², ecstatic that the dude that introduced me to Ultimae Records had returned. Plus, the label itself sent me a digital pre-release to review, practically a dream come true, right? Only, my time writing reviews for TranceCritic seemed at an end. I still accepted that digital copy, but felt like a cad doing so, uncertain whether I'd commit fingers to keyboard for them. It didn't help I was still in “MP3 iz bad” mode, with quality playback options limited, so my initial reactions were gonna' be tainted regardless. And then, after playing 360, I came away from it so disappointed, I almost gave up on new music completely. A total over-reaction, true, but man, after suffering through the 'sidechaining era' of trance, hearing Asura indulging it on Atlantis Child felt like a betrayal of Ultima 9 / Mass Effect 3 proportions.

Obviously, I've come around to 360 many years later. Really, there were songs on here that I liked right off the bat regardless (oh man, is Halley Road ever lush!), but that soured first impression curdled any replay desire for a while. It's honestly taken me this long, actually sitting down and analyzing this album for the purpose of a review, that the veil finally was lifted. Yeah, Atlantis Child is still kinda' wonky, in that it sounds more like Charles Farewell tinkering around with new effects rather than making a solid track. The rest though... oh my!

Right, it's no Life², in that 360 doesn't hit quite the same highs as that album does. There's still some honest-to-God quality tunes here though. All of his psy-chill productions (Regenesis, Erase, Longing For Silence, Le Dernier Voyage) hit the same spaced-out, sweet spots as his earlier material, with a few new, glitchy tricks thrown in for good measure. Altered State works a most tasty prog-psy groove, one of the best Asura's ever produced. The aforementioned Halley Road takes the best parts of Galaxies, and cranks the uplifting feels even higher, while Virgin Delight does all it can to melt your heart into PLUR goo (was Solar Fields offering tips?). Elsewhere, El Hai and Getsemani show off Mr. Farewell's orchestral chops, though I'll still take Golgotha over these.

Atlantis Child aside, the only real criticism I can level on 360 is that, as an album, it doesn't flow quite so well. For example, the sombre Getsemani would make for a lovely, reflective closer, but is instead placed two tracks from the finish. I suppose it works as a transitional into the more positive lead-out of Le Dernier Voyage and Virgin Delight, but man, does it leave me emotionally defeated too, not ready to take more music after. Hey, maybe that's what contributed to my 2010 funk! No, it was the other things that were at fault.

Hybrid - Wider Angle (Special Edition)

Distinct'ive Breaks: 1999/2001

Thank God I got the double-LP version of Wide Angle - aka: Wider Angle - otherwise I'd struggle through Hell with this review. The second CD, an inclusion of the Live Angle: Sydney disc that also includes the brilliant Altitude / Kill City single, supplies me all the praise, plaudits, and platitudes I need to convince folks that I, too, have drunk deeply of the Hybrid punch. I'd hate to have gone into this with the ultra-snark that I couldn't help but feel when my peers were gushing over their debut, buying into the PR byline that Wide Angle was “one of the most moving pieces of electronic music ever”. Dudes, it's a good album, but not that good. Like, did y'all not hear that Dusted record? Oh, you didn't. Erm, moving on.

But no, I get it. Way back, when Mike Truman, Chris Healings, and Lee Mullin struck upon a surprisingly effective idea of combining orchestral arrangements with cutting-edge breakbeat technology, we all loved it. Heck, even 'Son Of God' Sasha bought into it, wrapping up his 'trance-breaks' portion of Northern Exposure 2 with the full, original twelve-minute Symphony. A regular hack in dance music would have taken that initial success and parlayed it into an album-long edition of gimmicky retreads, but not Hybrid. They had bolder intentions with their music, fusing many more unconventional ideas with their nu-skool breaks. Soul! Jazz! Saxaphones! Jangly guitars! Julee Cruise! French rappers! Oh, and a couple more standard progressive trance and breaks tracks too, with orchestral arrangements and all. Gotta' still give the audience what they expect, right?

Hybrid are certainly deft in their music craft, everything about Wide Angle studio slick and polished. I dunno', though – even after hearing Finished Symphony at the end again, the album always leaves me feeling wanting, like I've just consumed a very fancy meal at a restaurant that's high in decor, but low in stomach satisfaction. After which, I head over to the nearest sports bar or night club for some greasy pub food and beer of mass quantities. Throw on the Live Angle CD, is what I mean.

And hot damn if CD2 doesn't warm my cockles every time. For sure it's got the big 'cinematic' singles of Wide Angle in Snyper and Finished Symphony, plus prog-trance stomper High Life is given added grit with pumping synth stabs not unlike BT's Fibonacci Sequence. You also get the smashing progressive breaks cut Burnin', the Alanis Morrisette bootleg Accelerator, and an eleven-plus minute long version of Kid 2000. Throw in the aforementioned bonuses Altitude and Kill City - a track I'd honestly deem worthy of a 'most moving pieces of electronic music' tag – and you've a CD that makes finding Wider Angle worth your effort.

Or not, if you prefer your Hybrid as less 'tear-out' and more 'chill at home with tea and crumpets'. For sure there's a sizable market for that too. At least the 'Special Edition' option gives both of best worlds.

Chronos - When Mars Meets Venus (Part 2: Venus)

Altar Records: 2012

No, I can't let this go, not when it still bugs me. I know for centuries Venus was thought of as a jewel in the morning and evening skies, a bright beacon of light outshining all other stars in a vast sea of black. It's only natural that the Ancients would associate beauty and grace as it wandered across the Zodiac. However, science has taught us that while Venus may look lovely from afar, it's anything but pretty and tranquil. Temperatures that can melt lead, thick sulphuric acid clouds blotting out sunlight, yet an atmosphere of vast amounts of carbon dioxide holding in heat for a runaway global greenhouse. Vast volcanic plains. Crushing pressures. And what's up with that rotation, slowly spinning backwards relative to the other planets in our system? That just ain't right at all! If musicians were honest in their odes to Venus, they wouldn't make music of beauty and grace, but of Hellfire and glitchy, noisy mess.

Anyhow.

The whole Mars/Venus dichotomy is essentially a celestial version of yin and yang, an easy concept for artists to showcase two sides of their muse. That Chronos needed to explore it across two separate albums suggests a bit of the ol' hubris at work, but hashing out just another album for Altar Records probably didn't seem all that appealing. Mr. Klimenko was already a five year vet in the psy scene by the time these came out, with plenty of music already released to his name. If DJ Zen is giving you carte blanche to let your creativity do the rockwilda', then have at you.

As When Mars Meets Venus: Part 2 is the 'Venus' album, it's mostly a chill, ambient one compared to Part 1: Mars. You sure wouldn't know it from the opening track though, Leaving Gaia featuring full orchestral arrangements, thundering percussion, and operatic choirs. Did we stumble into a fantasy epic somehow? Ooh, space opera, mayhaps!

But nay, we're in full-on ambient territory for much of this album's duration, tracks lasting an average of eight to eleven minutes apiece. It's mostly of a lush, soaring sort, thick timbres of pad work and spacey samples thrown in for added flavor. Red Planet goes a little more menacing (because Mars iz warz), Venus Eyes does a mysterious build before settling on a bit of quaint, affable melody (getting a Solar Fields vibe here), while Soaring In The Abyss and Galactic Winter add some Berlin-School pulsing synth rhythms to the fray. Dark Flame Landing is clearly the centrepiece of this album though, with the longest track duration and a return of the thundering percussion for its back-half. All that's missing is the appropriate film epic accompanying it.

Still, Part 2: Venus may be too ambient overall for most casual followers of psy-chill. Though Chronos does maintain a strong sense of grandeur throughout, it's also a rather singular journey, and folks needing 'd'em riddims' may not be up for the ride. Those who are though, hoo!

Various - The Verve Story: 1944-1994 (Disc Three: 1957-1962)

Verve Records: 1994

I’ve mentioned plenty ‘nuff my reservation in exploring jazz beyond the peripheral due to that scene’s daunting size. And hey, fair enough, right? There’s only so much music out there one can dedicate one’s time to. This habit don’t pay the bills (oh God, if only…), so my time remains limited. Nay, ‘tis easier to focus on what I’m properly passionate about, checking other stuff whenever the whim strikes me. Still, there’s another reason I’ve so often put jazz music on the low-end spectrum of my interest, and it’s entirely due to one instrument: the saxophone.

Before saxophone fans get all in a tizzy, this isn’t some arbitrary hate on the horn’s heritage or stylistic preference. I generally enjoy the sound saxophones bring to the world of music, an important touchstone in giving blues, bebop, noir films, and Lisa Simpson their cultural identities. Unfortunately, there’s an audio range of the instrument that’s like needles on my eardrums, physically painful for reasons I don’t understand, generally anything above the mid-tenor through alto – lower tenor and baritone are fine. This gets especially trying when jazz musicians are playing with gusto, incidental reed squeaks making things even worse. I’ve read it attributed to medium, saxophones not surviving the transition into digital terribly well. Perhaps, but it doesn’t help the fact it remains one of the premier instruments of jazz musicians, and thus effectively curtailing whatever enjoyment I get out of the scene.

Take the opening track of CD3 in this Verve box-set, Crazy Rhythm with trombonist J.J. Johnson and tenor saxaphonist Stan Getz. Holy cow, but is that rhythm ever crazy! This is some of the fastest jazz music I’ve ever heard, and super-props to Ray Brown (bass), Connie Kay (drums), Oscar Peterson (piano) and Herb Ellis (guitar) in staying so tight, feeding J.J. and Stan all the fuel for their solos. And Mr. Johnson does his thing, and I’m diggin’ it real good, and then Stan does his thing, and I enjoy it for his technical skill, but I don’t feel it so well, because his horn hurts my ears like so much high-tempo saxophone always does. This handicap totally sucks, it does.

Anyhow, CD3 sees the Verve machine in full swing (including a couple swing tunes, though rather subdued compared to the raucous Forties). Jazz is entering its ‘sophistication’ era, no longer the default music of choice for hep cats (culturally defunct) and cool kids (they prefer rockabilly), but upper-crust parties and college-educated professional adults. Just as well, as fancy musical innovations like ‘high fidelity’ and ‘stereo’ were getting their starts too, and only rich folks had the money for playback machines that could take advantage of it. There’s some nifty tunes here (Ella Fitzgerald getting her scat-bop baritone on, Stan Getz’s Night Rider further fusing classical touches with jazz, Jimmy Smith adding organ to the Verve legacy), but this is about where my interest in jazz music as a genre starts cratering. More on that in CD4!

Various - The Verve Story: 1944-1994 (Disc Two: 1953-1957)

Verve Records: 1994

Right, it wasn’t just the nifty box-set design that caught my attention when buying this. The name Verve Records does have some pedigree even to those as unenlightened of jazz’s storied history as I, so it was a safe bet checking out a 50th Anniversary collection for a proper knowledge-drop on the music.

To simply call it a jazz label hardly does the Verve print justice though, adopting many other scenes as tastes and trends shifted through the ‘60s and ‘70s. They brought us the Righteous Brothers, The Velvet Underground, The Frank Zappa And The Mothers Of Invention, and assorted folksy music too. Jazz remained Verve’s breaded butter though, and even as the music slowly dwindled from prominence, it found a comfortable role in reissuing its back-catalog, all the while gobbling up other jazz prints as labels consolidated their assets into mega-labels. They’re apparently now under the Interscope Geffen A&M Records banner, but not before making stops with MGM, PolyGram, and Universal. I can’t imagine founder Norman Granz figured his print would ever take such a convoluted journey.

Before he set up Verve Records though, Granz had a couple other prints. CD1 focused on his seminal Jazz At The Philharmonic concert tours (not so much a label, but a cross-label brand), and Clef Records, which ran for a decade before being absorbed into Verve. Around 1953, Granz set up another label called Norgran Records, though it too was consolidated into Verve in ’56. It’s this five year period that CD2 cribs its material from, the mid-‘50s in all its boppin’ glory.

Yeah, there’s a good deal of the bebop groove here that’ll have you realizing where the roots of rock’n’roll originated from – the rhythm guitar was getting more opportunities to strut its stuff, that’s for sure. Naturally I’m fonder of this stuff, though hearing more blues-leaning jazz doesn’t hurt either. And while swing was essentially on the outs by the Fifties, that didn’t mean big-bands went by the wayside too, quite a few offerings of ‘orchestras’ on display here (minimum six musicians present, singer optional). I can’t help but think of grand Hollywood spectacles of hip, urban life while hearing these tunes, which is in stark contrast to the more modest, quieter pieces like Art Tatum’s piano solo Tea For Two and Benny Carter’s My One And Only Love - now I’m at a stuffy cocktail party.

However, the most prominent new addition to the Verve legacy CD2 showcases is vocalists. Obviously jazz music had singers before, but when Granz established this print, it was with promoting singing talent in mind. This included such vocalists as Anita O’Day, Billie Holiday, and Ella Fitzgerald, who he personally managed. In fact, the first official Verve release was a collection of Cole Porter covers sung by Ms. Fitzgerald. For my money though, that duet with Louis Armstrong (They Can’t Take That Away From Me) is the clear highlight. Dang near everything ol' Louis did was gold.

The Future Sound Of London - Environment 6.5

fsoldigital.com: 2016

So Environment Six had its moments, but didn’t gel terribly well as an LP experience. And dammit, is it so unfair of me to want that? The Future Sound Of London made their mark in the ‘90s as one of the few electronic music producers who could successfully release fully-formed albums. We know it’s within Cobain and Dougans’ ability to do so, and though the Environments series has flitted with loose themes thus far, I can’t see an abandonment of it in favor of total freeform music making doing them many favors. With the simultaneous release of 6.5, also featuring a whopping twenty-three tracks, I worried we were in for another lengthy dive into the duo’s erratic muses.

Instead, we’re greeted with one of the biggest opening salvos FSOL have ever committed to record. Axis Of Rotation serves as a brief effects-heavy intro, a suggested orchestral melody emerging. It then melds into a thudding tribal rhythm in Solid Earth, where the same melody plays out in a haunting, subdued fashion. Wait, I should call that melody a leitmotif, because FSOL bring it back way down in track fifteen, The Day The Poles Shifted, and as a grand opus at that. Holy cow, does Environment 6.5 have an honest-to-God concept behind it?

I’d say so. For one, the tracks all flow much better together compared to Six, moments of calm and tranquility explored for stretches before easing along to tunes more brisk and experimental. If a number of these tracks started out as unrelated sonic sketches, FSOL tweaked and twisted them to fit whatever theme holds everything together. Even that, so often vague and obtuse in prior Environments, comes off more concrete than before. For sure explorations of ruined civilizations is well-tread territory where these guys are concerned, but with 6.5, I feel as though I’m directly involved in this musical trek rather than being an outside observer of events. This undoubtedly sounds awfully wanky, but the journey takes you through dark, underground passages, past dwellings both ancient yet futuristic, finally emerging into a new dawn as the surface finally recovers from its cataclysm (by force of nature than anything manmade, it seems).

Individual tracks, then. How do they all come off? Oh, the usual sort of FSOL eclecticism. Anacro Rhythm: far East psychedelia. Opal Light: noir ambient dub. Dark Seed: chipper braindance acid. I Dream In Viral Blue: widescreen jazz-fusion. Ain’t Gonna Lie: far flung ambient techno. Emmissions Of Light: dubby ambient glitch. Strange Allure: pure ambience with bubbling weirdness. There’s more, of course, but gotta’ save some surprises for y’all.

Why this wasn’t the Environment Six Prime album, I haven’t a clue. It’s so much better, Actual Six coming off like the b-side companion an album titled 6.5 should sound like. In fact, I’d rank this one on par with their ‘90s material, if for nothing else than that Axis Of Rotation leitmotif remains stuck in my head. Can’t say the same of most other Environment pieces.

The Future Sound Of London - Environment Six

fsoldigital.com: 2016

It should have marked a triumphant return to electronic music media. Instead, Environment Five, The Future Sound of London’s first full album of original material since the ‘90s, was met with another indifferent shrug. For sure a few of the UK’s more prestigious rags scoped it out, in the process allowing some nostalgic look-backs to groundbreaking rave era Dougans and Corbain material. Having exhausted that angle, however, and FSOL failing to deliver the Instant Modern Classic such folks assumed was in the works, most music journals moved on, Environment Five joining Boards Of Canada’s Tomorrow’s Harvest in the Over-Hyped Return bin (when can we add Random Access Memory to the pile?).

Thus it is with as little fanfare as possible that we return to this series a couple years later. Seriously, I saw no PR leading up to Environment Six, the only hype apparently a Facebook posting. I only found out about it by chance, checking their website for details regarding another side-project, Blackhill Transmitter. Then lo’, there it was, not one, but two new Environment albums. Well geez, better snatch those up post-haste. Surely folks will be buzzing about these soon enough (nope).

At twenty-three tracks, Environment Six looks daunting, but less than half of these break the three-minute mark, only one passing six minutes. Not that this is anything new, FSOL long known for their sonic doodles and half-formed musical ideas, such pieces serving as interludes, transitionals, or experimental indulgences that could never form Proper Tunes. And we generally allow it as they often serve a greater thematic whole within the context of their albums. Even these Environments, as loosely defined as they are, still adhere to some conceptual structure. This one though, I dunno – there’s more random meandering than ever here.

It starts out fine enough, the first few tracks reasonable lengths and exploring the usual future sounds Cobain and Dougans so often do - Polarize does the epic post-apocalypse thing, Mountain Path a meditative ambient thing, Thought Pattern a minimalist ambient techno thing. Elsewhere, Lichaen takes the tried-and-tested psychedelia path, Sol 7 goes all dubby glitch, Symphony For Halia provides a haunting, static-dub vibe straight out of Ultimae’s textbook, Plausibility opts for pure orchestral psychedelia, Yut Moik comes off like a long-lost track from Warp’s Artificial Intelligence series, and Leak Stereo 70 does a brisk, micro future-funk jam.

A nifty assortment of FSOL tunes, all said, though little thematically linking them together. Matters aren’t helped that tons of disjointed sonic doodles are littered amongst as individual tracks, seldom letting anything stick in your brain before quickly moving onto the next wayward muse FSOL follows. An ultra-short synth-arp tease in Seq/-9 is especially egregious. The final couple tracks - Meanders and Solace - are decent closers, but fail to sum Environment Six in any meaningful way. I don’t have much problem with ‘music for its own sake’, but it’s nice having some cohesive reason to sit down and take a full album in.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest VIII"

Aniplex: 2005

Dragon Quest making its way into the realms of 128-bit power was a bit of a surprise, them consoles almost too powerful for the simple stories and gameplay the series enjoyed. Yuji Horii got around the expectations of stellar graphics and complex plots by presenting the game as a cell-shaded cartoon, a relatively new technique for 3D gaming. It retained the whimsical sprite-based look of Akira Toriyama’s artwork, while offering up an incredibly open world to explore. Deceptively simple, yet remarkably complex, Dragon Quest VIII was more than fans could have hoped for, and helped reinvigorate interest in the series for a new generation of gamers. It was the high times of the Nintendo era all over again!

Even ol' Koichi got to try something new for this game. For the first time, he was crafting music for a gaming system that could handle all the original orchestrated music he wrote, with no compromising to MIDI or soundcard limitations. This allowed him a session that sounded expansive and full, rivalling even his older symphonic suite recordings. After all, if you’re playing a game where you have free range to explore a vast world, you want a score that invigorates that sensation. A recording capturing the echo and reverb of a symphony hall certainly is an effective way of doing that.

Where Dragon Quest VIII’s score excels in sound design though, it unfortunately lacks some in the melody department. For sure, you can still find ample amounts of charming music in that vintage Sugiyama-san stylee. Strange World opens with a lovely bit of harp, soon giving way to flutes, brass, and grand strings, losing yourself in the wide fields of the overworld you explore. ...Remembrances... will tug at your heart as so many of ol’ Koichi’s ‘sad’ pieces do. Healing Power Of The Psalms is an apt title for the game’s church theme, soothing strings granting one a respite from the trials of the road. And yet, there’s very few compositions that actually sticks with the head, a surprising lack of leitmotifs. Heck, I don’t think any of your playable characters get themes to their names, though to be fair that hasn’t been a Dragon Quest staple since the 16-bit era. His compositions here sound more intended for a movie than a video game, which isn’t surprising given the nature of most games of the modern era. Man, what I wouldn’t give to hear some catchy ditties with that hall recording though.

Okay, enough quibbling. Here are a couple cool standouts with this score. Far more percussion is used compared to previous symphonic suites, with a highlight being the blocks and glittering bells of Mysterious Tower. Also, while a standard ‘big boss’ battle theme retains the sluggish tempo of most Dragon Quest games, the final-final boss theme picks the pace up considerably, making for a thrilling battle theme. Not quite as epic as the awesome Fighting Spirit from Dragon Quest III, but it’s right up there!

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 7

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

Towards the ends of Dragon Quest III and VI, you encounter a small, sealed off realm. Here resides a population of people kept in perpetual misery, suffering, and depression, which the Archfiends of these games love to feast on (somehow). Through pluck, guile, and a little demon slaying, you rescue these people from their circumstances, overcoming the bitterness consuming their lives. Nice little parables for sure, especially for a series steeped in altruism. So when Dragon Quest made its leap to the Playstation, it took those singular events and spread it for the course of an entire game. Each sealed realm you visit and free restores the world from a single, isolated island like a giant jigsaw puzzle. No, literally! You go around collecting shards, piecing them together, and- Well, no sense revealing everything. I’ll just end with the knowledge this is one long RPG, and one of the bonus bosses is God. Yes, the God, with the flowing white beard, robe, etc.

Ooh, I said ‘end’ in the last paragraph. That can segue into this review, as we’re also at the ‘end’ of this seven disc box set, which features music played at the ‘end’ of the game, specifically during ‘end’ credits. Also, I’ll now ‘end’ these forced quotations.

So you defeated the big bad of the realm, rescued a princess or two, became a legendary hero in the process of fulfilling prophecy. Now you can get back to rebuilding your sacked village, raising a family, and take up the family fishing business. It a funny turn how the triumphant victories of the older Dragon Quest games became more humbling and simple in later editions. Hell, some conclusions come bitter-sweet, no more so than Dragon Quest IV where defeating the villain was an act of necessity brought about by manipulation and betrayal. Have I mentioned how frickin’ awesome that game’s plot is for the 8-bit era? Man, even the Ending (IV) music is ridiculously epic, especially in its fully orchestrated version here. Movies don’t get end credit scores this grand.

That essentially concludes the symphonic suite portion of the box set, but what’s this? Extra room on CD7? Sure, a little of that was taken by the ‘heaven’ compositions at start (Dragon Quest IV through VI centers on a ‘Heaven’ arc, or Zenithia in the original translation), but that still leaves plenty space at the end. Yet there are no more recordings of symphonic suites. What can be used to fill out that gap? Why, original VGM of course!

Two pieces from Dragon Quest VII never got a symphonic upgrade, gypsy folk ditties titled Toura Dance (VII) and Restoration Prayer (VII). Not sure why that is, though I’ve heard rumor ol’ Koichi had difficulty composing them with an orchestral backing. Wait, this from the guy that made symphonic chiptunes? A few more pieces were added to the 32-bit upgrade for Dragon Quest IV, including new mid-boss battle music and a theme for the main antagonists. They’re, um… disappointing.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 6

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

Stateside Dragon Quest fans just couldn't catch a break in the 16-bit era. Denied the fifth game, no hope of seeing the upgrades of the first three 8-bit games, and pretty much shit out of luck on number six of the series, it wasn’t until late in the next generation of gaming that we saw anything new. Even emulation could only take us so far, the games growing more complex with the text dialog. Dragon Quest VI became infamous during those dark times as The Game That Could Not Be Fan Translated. Many attempted the mighty task, some even coming close to completion, but like Dragon Quest V, we’d never see an official version until it made the port to the DS. Shame, because I find the main character’s origin in that game possibly the most creative of all them all (you are not the dreamer, but the dream...).

Disc six finally brings us to the music that soundtracked many a grinding session: battle themes. Every great RPG must have a good battle theme, music that gets you equally pumped fighting the most pathetic Slime to the most dastardly Archfiend. Koichi Sugiyama definitely knows his way around a thrilling composition, standard fight music quick and punchy, with a dash of the ol’ derring-do. He even throws in an occasional twist or two, Death Fight (II) changing time signatures, and Battle For The Glory (IV) working in a crescendo. Okay, that’s common for orchestral music, but this was done with the original Nintendo soundcard too. That just wasn’t done, mang, yet here he done did it!

Though mid-boss battles are a staple of the series since the first game, it wasn’t until Dragon Quest V and the additional MIDI storage of the Super Famicom that Sugiyama-san provided music for these fights. Though they are unique compositions, they’re essentially beefed-up takes of the standard battle music. Meanwhile, the final boss music of Dragon Quest often goes the opposite way, with slow, brooding pieces, thumping kettle drums setting a sluggish pace, as though your final test is a battle of endurance and survival against ancient evils. Makes sense, as most of the final bosses are ancient evils, large demonic behemoths whose steps shake the ground they walk upon. Probably.

The only game to buck this convention is Dragon Quest III. Gruelling Fight, played during your confrontation with the Archfiend Baramos, brings urgent strings, sinister horns, and a refrain that’s all sorts of tense, exciting, and kick-ass. And that’s just the fake-out final boss music! No, the main attraction from this game is Fighting Spirit (III), a medley of the standard battle music (which is great!), an extended interlude of the classic Unknown World played on harp, then all Hell breaks loose for your true final battle. Furious strings, crashing percussion, bombastic horns... holy cow, this piece has it all, and is, by far, the best final boss music in the whole series. How anyone can resist getting hyped listening to it is beyond me.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 5

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

Dragged out of 8-bit land kicking and screaming, Dragon Quest made its debut on 16-bit with V, where better graphics and storytelling were promised. Well, it didn't do much with the Super Famicom's capabilities (not even some Mode 7?), but surely Yuji Horii and his cohorts would give us a grand epic narrative showing the world why the series deserved its amazing success in Japan. Eh, not quite either, the game never getting a localization in America (much less Europe) until the year 2009, die-hards forced into alternative methods to play the game. Fortunately, the world of emulation was blossoming on the early internet, and there was enough Dragon Quest interest to support fan translations of the game.

And while Dragon Quest V didn’t amaze in graphics, it more than made up for it story. Not for the overall plot, mind you, that still relatively standard fare for the series (monsters up to no good, prophesized hero must overcome, etc.). Rather, it was how the narrative bucked convention, your main character’s arc primarily his journey in finding his missing mother. Starting as a young boy travelling with his father, he’ll witness his brutal murder (!), is forced into child slavery (!!), escapes and finds the time to take a wife, discovers he has a lineage of nobility, and yet doesn’t turn out to be the prophesized hero destined to save the world. Mang, that was unheard of in RPGs! Your main character always is the hero! Who is it, then? You don’t find that out until he saves your ass, for your character eventually gets turned to stone and is left to erode for several years. Did I mention this game loves to gut punch your emotions a bunch?

Eh? Oh, right, CD5 of the box set. This one features music played when travelling by other means than foot. Having a sea faring vessel is standard in most RPGs, but your method of flight often varies from game to game. Final Fantasy famously likes airships, and Ultima once used star crafts before the series realized that was daft for a fantasy setting. Dragon Quest, meanwhile, has never settled on a standard mode of air transport. Such means have included a resurrected phoenix, a hot air balloon, a magic carpet, a flying bed (!), a winged horse, and a floating rock vessel. Y’know, for a game series called Dragon Quest, you’d think there’d be more flying on dragons.

Truth be told, I find this the weakest of the CDs. Aside from a few lovely pieces (Heavenly Flight (III), Sea Breeze (IV), Over The Horizon (VII), most of Sugiyama-san’s compositions here meander about with little to hook you in. It does recreate that feeling of an endlessly open world to explore, but I can’t say this is a CD I reach for often. Oh, and I absolutely hate those ship waltzes for Dragon Quest II and III. Too damn goofy, even for a disc with a song titled Flying Bed (VI).

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 4

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

Dragon Quest IV was a remarkable game when it came out, one of the last true greats of the 8-bit era. Featuring multiple characters, each had their own 'chapters' before coming together for a final chapter, breaking conventional RPG storytelling in the process. The game even established many tropes folks now take for granted in the genre (hero village sacked, tragic villain, prophecy, etc.). Koichi Sugiyama, already showing amazing finesse with the Nintendo soundcard, outdid himself yet again with this game. I’ve touched on several pieces and themes in the previous CDs of this box set, and I will several more times before we’re done.

While the game remains a favourite for many (*cough*), it unfortunately was way overshadowed by other big RPGs of the time. Final Fantasy IV had made its sexy debut on the Super Nintendo, leaving Dragon Quest IV’s clunky Nintendo graphics well in the dust. Meanwhile, in PC gaming land, Ultima VII: The Black Gate burst forth, proving that series remained top dog of the yard. Still, Yuji Horii wasn’t trying to outdo Lord British’s games, just make simpler versions of them. That, and the dungeon crawling of Wizardry.

Oh yeah, we’re dealing with the ‘dungeon’ disc with CD4 - woot, I can segue like this all day! Any good RPG needs its caves where monsters dwell, hoarding all sorts of treasures to loot. Appropriately, Sugiyama-san composed pieces reflecting ominous shadows, creepy crevices, and claustrophobic caverns. With Dragon Quest II, towers were introduced as another form of monster infested locale, and ol’ Koichi approached this music from a different angle, compositions often urgent in pace, melodies suggesting mischievous shenanigans by whatever devilry may lurk in long abandoned rooms. This feeling of lofty unease was best captured by Screams From The Tower Of Monsters (VII), where sinister plucked strings give way to woozy violins and flutes, every so often interrupted by the echo of horns, as though you’re just hovering at the edge of a thirty foot drop. Watch that final step, wily hero; it’s a loo-loo.

Oops, you fell off and splattered on the ground below. Or fell into a cunning trap by Demonites in that tower. Or crawled too deep into a dungeon, meeting a horrible end at hoards of Horks, or in the den of a dozen Green Dragons (damn you, Road To Rhone). Whatever the case, as the classic Dragon Warrior saying goes, “Thou art dead.”

As these can be a common occurrences in Dragon Quest, Sugiyama-san saw fit to include mournful pieces for those ‘game over’ screens, typically titled Requiem or Elegy. In the first few games, you’d be resurrected by Kings, but later it’d be at churches or shrines with priests (Houses Of Healing with shaman, for the religious-wary early Nintendo games). Such holy havens deserve music worthy of humbling piety, which are provided as counters-points to the various requiems. It marks a rather soothing end to CD4, a blissful contrast to the foreboding tones of the first half.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 3

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

For the first two Dragon Quest games, you played as the descendents of a legendary hero known as Roto (or Erdrick). For all the great deeds you did in those games (save kingdoms, rescue princesses, defeat a God Of Chaos!), folks sure still talk mighty highly of that person from way back. Just what was his/her story anyway? Dragon Quest III tells that tale, though it wasn't immediately apparent. For the most part, it plays as a typical RPG, going from town to town, kingdom to kingdom (all suspiciously familiar), completing quests and finding treasures to finally bring down a big bad threatening the world. That wasn't the whole story either, but enough plot. The game itself marked the series' proper foray into the realm of classic pen-and-paper RPGs, with multiple party member classes you can swap in and out to your heart's content.

With such customization available, Dragon Quest III has been a fan favourite through the years, even as the game's mechanics grow ever more archaic. It's gotta' be that soundtrack that keeps drawing them back. Koichi Sugiyama outdid himself with this game, composing several pieces bringing to mind derring-do, swash-buckling, high adventure. Heck, the overworld theme he wrote for this game is titled Adventure (III).

Speaking of overworld themes, that’s what CD3 of this box set covers. Unknown World from the first Dragon Quest is probably one of the most famous little loops in jRPG history, which ol’ Koichi recycled in future pieces too, including Endless World (II) in Dragon Quest II. This piece also introduced the idea of overworld music serving as leitmotifs for your party characters, an idea explored amazingly for Dragon Quest IV’s ten-minute opus Comrades (IV). With just a few measures of music, you can glean the sort of person these funny little sprites are supposed to be: slow French horns signifying an honor-bound soldier, perky trumpets suggesting an impulsive princess, flutes and cellos for a jovial rotund merchant, spirited gypsy rhythms for a fiery dancer... you get the point. Once all these characters come together, the sound of a triumphant fanfare in Homeland ~ Wagon Wheel’s March (IV) swaggers its way to inevitable victory over the forces of evil. Oh my, I’m fanboying all over the place, aren’t I?

There’s no overworld theme for Dragon Quest V on this CD, that piece part of that game’s township medley instead for some reason. Later, as the games encompassed more than one world to explore (Dream dimensions! Underwater! The past!), they utilized the medley style themselves, though always came back to an adventurous ditty by the end.

That leaves a little space on CD3, where some of the sadder music in the Dragon Quest pantheon is found. Make Me Feel Sad (V) is an apt title, that game having some truly heart-wrenching moments throughout. Dragon Quest VII, meanwhile, gets two melancholic pieces, Days Of Sadness (VII) and Sarabrand (VII). That’s definitely a game that earns its tragic situations, believe you me.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 2

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

The success of Dragon Quest guaranteed a sequel. Hell, Yuji Horii had a franchise on his hands, though just how big the phenomenon would grow, few could know in those early days. At least as big as Mario, some had to assume, and like the series featuring super plumber brothers, a quick follow-up to the first game hit the shelves in Japan. Dragon Quest 2 was also brutal hard in that old-timey RPG way: excessive grinding, unfair puzzles, and wonky balancing. Ask any longtime Dragon Quest fan about the Road To Rhone, and you’ll be met with stares benefiting a PTSD survivor.

Not that I blame the game designers for the difficulty. They were no doubt learning how to expand upon their initial ideas as they went along, yet forced to meet deadlines without enough playtesting. Koichi Sugiyama may have felt similar constraints when composing for Dragon Quest II, the music not quite as memorable as the first game. Even II’s symphonic suite sounds flat compared to the other sessions.

Anyhow, CD2 of this box set features music heard as you stroll through the various towns of Dragon Quest, buying gear, engaging in gossip, discovering clues in what ‘they say…’ before embarking on a new mission. Sugiyama-san typically wrote these to sound folksy, bustling, and chipper, a respite from the grueling travels over the world. As the games grew more complex, it increased the various types of places you might visit, giving ol’ Koichi more freedom in the music he’d write. Around The World (III) features exotic locales like ancient Egypt and traditional Japan. In A Town (IV) gives us the series’ first instance of contemporary music with ragtime casino tunes, plus an epic crescendo for a coliseum tournament.

When the games made their jump to 16-bit and 32-bit, they could store an increased variety of music, which led to Sugiyama-san composing lengthier medleys. These couldn’t be summed up with simple names either, each piece quite distinct within each composition. Thus, we get titles like *deep breath*… Melody In An Ancient Town ~ Toward The Horizon ~ Casino ~ Lively Town ~ Melody In An Ancient Town (V) and *deep breath*… In The Town ~ Happy Humming ~ Inviting Village ~ Folk Dance ~ In The Town (VI). I think even ol’ Koichi realized that was getting cumbersome, simplifying Dragon Quest VII’s township medley down to Strolling In The Town (VII). See, it gets the same gist across.

Added to the end of CD2 are two love themes, Melody Of Love (V) and To My Loved One (VII). They primarily feature touching violin solos, followed by charming strings and flutes. As for why have such music, a major component of Dragon Quest V centers around your character finding a wife – gonna’ need a strong love theme to sell that story, yo’. And while your character doesn’t have as involved a storyline in Dragon Quest VII, you sure do witness many blossoming romances along the way. D’aw.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 1

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

So I'm a Dragon Quest fan (Dragon Warrior to all you O.G. RPG players out there). Sure, it was never the 'cool' option, but what it lacked in hardcore gameplay (your Ultimas) or style (your Final Fantasys), it made up for in pure, simplistic charm. It's a series that never had to oversell itself, remaining grounded in heart-warming tales of right and wrong, where altruism is its own reward. Bonking a few hundred Slimes for that shiny new copper sword wasn't such a bad way to pass the time either.

The success of Dragon Quest is a tale of all the right people falling into place. Game designer Yuji Horii finding a way of simplifying elements of computer RPGs for an eager Japanese audience just getting into their Famicom/Nintendo home consoles. Artist Akira Toriyama, hot off the success of his manga Dragonball, creating several iconic character and monster designs for the game. And, in an unprecedented move, composer Koichi Sugiyama coming on board to create a soundtrack for the game. Already experienced in films, TV, and anime, he helped change the craft of video games music, such that they'd no longer be rote, bleepy loops, but pieces of lasting standing. He set about doing this by writing the music as he would for a fully orchestrated composition, then squeezing it down such they'd mimic what he wrote with those tiny little soundcards. In the process, Sugiymama-san’s work for the first Dragon Quest game become just as iconic in Japanese pop culture as anything from the Mario and Zelda camps.

Remarkably, it proved so popular that actual interest grew in hearing these simple melodies performed with the backing of a complete orchestra. Who knows whether ol’ Koichi ever intended the compositions to be heard as such, but his series of symphonic suites became must-haves for every fan of the series, their success kicking off symphonic suites for other video games too. This particular box set gathers up the first seven Dragon Quest scores, arranging them based on themes and settings within the games themselves. As this is CD1, the music visited upon are the Overtures (re: title screen music) and the castle themes, which many a Dragon Quest adventure began.

I cannot deny hearing the opening trumpet fanfare of the Overture sends a ton of nostalgia endorphins flooding through my noggin, but seven straight versions of it is complete overkill. The first, Overture March (I), at least provides an extended play on the theme, and Roto (III) mixes things up with marching snares. Beyond that though, you’ve heard one Overture, you’ve heard them all.

The castle themes, however, are quite lovely, if you enjoy your sombre string section music. Chateau Ladustorm (I) is probably just as iconic a piece as anything from the first Dragon Quest game, though Menuet (IV) gives it a good run too. The latter games saw fit to add horns to the mix, but nothing beats those bassy cellos for setting a regal mood.

ACE TRACKS: October 2015

An extra hour of sleep this past night? Pft, I totally wasted that the night before, where I slept for about eleven hours. I didn’t think I was that tired, but then again, I have noticed the fatiguing signs. The shorter daylight hours, leading me to rely more on ultra-caffeine to plow through, leading to nights with less deep sleep, and the cycle continues. I don’t recall having these problems before. Was it because I was a steady Rock Star drinker for twelve years? I had to quit those suckers earlier this year because of compounding chest pains. Heck, I ‘relapsed’ this past month to get through those rough mornings, and started feeling those pains again. Why? Why must this aging process limit societal crutches? Dear Lord, don’t let the same thing happen to music! Maybe I needed happier music this past October, but there be Beach Boys in th’ar. Here, take a listen.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Sven Väth ‎– In The Mix: The Sound Of The Ninth Season
Various - The Sound Of Zero and One
Olien - Sounded Paratronic
Overdream - Soundprints
Peter Benisch - Soundtrack Saga
Various - Space Jazz
Der Dritte Raum - Spaceglider
Distant System - Spiral Empire
Jerry Goldsmith - Star Trek: The Motion Picture
James Horner - Star Trek: The Search For Spock

Percentage of Hip-Hop: 8%
Percentage Of Rock: 35% (it’s all Beach Boys)
Most “WTF?” Track: Horsemilk - They Milk Horses Don’t They? (that title alone …oh yeah, and Olien)

Ugh, so much great music, so much not on Spotify. I mean, this past month had me going through a number of albums I’ve endlessly namedropped over the years, and I can’t even share audio clips of them now. Well, unless y’all followed my advice and already copped yourselves some Benisch, Olien, and D. System.

That still leaves a bunch of cool music from other though: Thievery Corporation, AstroPilot, OutKast, and the aforementioned Beach Boys. If you’re feeling the SADS, maybe they’ll help add a little sunshine in your day. Yeah, that’s dorky, but so were they, so win-win, I say.

James Horner - Star Trek III: The Search For Spock

Capitol/GNP Crescendo: 1984/1990

Now we’re getting into real geeky territory.

The first two Star Trek movie soundtracks, one can make the argument they surpass the source material, making them essential additions to any gatherer of classic film scores. Jerry Goldsmith, already no slouch in Hollywood, made some of Trek’s most iconic pieces for The Motion Picture, such that he’d recycle many of those themes in the later films he scored. James Horner, a total newcomer in Hollywood, made some of Trek’s most thrilling music for The Wrath Of Khan, such that he’d recycle some of those themes in other films he scored. Either way, both are standouts of the sci-fi soundtrack genre, such that you don’t need to be a Trekkie to appreciate them.

Beyond that, however, we’re getting deep into the realm of fans-only releases. There’s a couple more Trek soundtracks after this one I wouldn’t mind having should I find them on the cheap. Cliff Eidelman’s work for Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country recaptured many aspects of Horner’s compositions without stepping on James’ toes much, and Goldsmith turned in another winner with his work on Star Trek: First Contact. Maybe if I were to indulge my inner Trekkie to the utmost, some gathered works from The Next Generation and Deep Space Nine would be nice, but that’s an extreme case.

Instead, I’ve only gone as far as Star Trek III: The Search For Spock, because another LP of James Horner Trek music can’t go wrong. It’s also remarkably different compared to The Wrath Of Khan, if anything because the movie itself is a departure from the previous one. A somber mood permeates much of the film, as can be expected when our hero James T. Kirk is dealing with so much tragedy throughout. Not just the loss of Spock in Khan, but his subsequent rebellion against Starfleet, the death of his son David, the forced destruction of the Enterprise, and the total annihilation of the Genesis Planet, putting a damper on all those ‘life from death’ themes. Oh, um, spoilers, I guess?

Horner’s score reflects many of these moments, seldom going for the thrilling, bombastic orchestrations in Khan. Stealing The Enterprise is the lone exception, giving us a taste of exciting adventure despite the action on screen being rather mundane – it’s a perfect example of a score completely selling a scene, which Horner excelled at even at this early stage of his career.

Since he didn’t have to come up with as many original themes either, Horner experimented a little, mostly in his instrumentations. Klingons may not have been as iconic as Goldsmith’s theme for the classic alien species, but the clanking percussion Horner uses works wonderfully for a culture with a military industrial complex. Alternatively, the soft, meditative exotic drums in The Katra Ritual serves as a strong contrast for the logical Vulcans. And in keeping things human and ‘80s, there’s a bonus synth-pop rendition of the movie’s main theme. Yeah, that was common on soundtracks back then. Don’t ask.

James Horner - Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan (Expanded Edition)

Atlantic/Retrograde Records: 1982/2009

The only Star Trek soundtrack you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a fan of Star Trek soundtracks. I know, I know. You’re wondering how on Earth can there be that specific a music niche, but check it, yo’. Star Trek is a massive enterprise, finding its way into every form of consumable medium known to the Western world. We obviously think of it as a TV and movie franchise, but all those fancy images don’t come silent, each feature film and weekly episode requiring scores to set the tone and mood. Even with its shoestring budget, The Original Series came up with some iconic pieces everyone recognizes (and lovably mock), and The Next Generation had its moments too. And when you have original scores made for each episode, every series has volumes of music a die-hard Trekkie can nab their hands on. Plus, there's video game soundtracks, audio books, music inspired by Trek, and the list goes on.

However, The Wrath Of Khan is different. This isn't so much a soundtrack for Star Trek II, but rather a soundtrack composed by James Horner that happens to be a Star Trek film. That wasn’t much of a distinction when the movie came out, as Mr. Horner was just starting out in scoring films. A few decades on though, and several famous soundtracks under his belt (Braveheart, Titanic, Glory, Willow, Rocketeer, etc., etc.), we've come to hear certain traits and signifiers in Horner's work. Those exhilarating set pieces, the memorable heart-wrenching melodies, a bounty of leitmotif riches – it’s no small wonder Horner became one of Hollywood’s most famous go-to composers.

The Wrath Of Khan wasn’t Horner first score, but it definitely provided his first opportunity in showcase his talents to a wide audience. The result is one of the most memorable scores ever committed to a sci-fi adventure flick, a remarkable feat considering Horner had Jerry Goldsmith’s iconic Star Trek score hovering just one movie prior (to say nothing of Star Wars). Fortunately for Horner though, he had a much better movie to work with, encouraged to go as bombastic as he wished by director Nicholas Meyer. Swashbuckling music for the Enterprise and her crew, menacing marches of ancient glories for Khan and his cronies, triumphant cues, mournful losses, this score has everything, never skimping on wrenching every last bit of tension and emotion from his compositions. Given the final result, one would think he’d used up every great idea in his repertoire on this movie. Little were we to know he was just getting started.

That’s why this soundtrack is as much a showcase of James Horner as it is a backing score to the best Star Trek movie ever made. When you think of the other films, their scores still sound Star Trek, the composers mostly adhering to the franchise’s needs. Horner, on the other hand, transcended that, and helped lift The Wrath Of Khan well beyond expectations in the process, to a peak that’s yet to be matched.