Jerry Goldsmith - Star Trek: The Motion Picture (20th Anniversary Edition)

Columbia/Sony Legacy: 1979/1998

Still not the geekiest thing in my music collection, though I can't deny it being somewhere in the Top Ten. If I had any of the Star Wars soundtracks, it'd certainly be geekier than that, though not as geeky were the original Battlestar Galactica among my CDs. I guess it's proper-nerdy to claim I've got any Star Trek soundtracks and not Star Wars, but here's the thing: I'll never have to purchase a Star Wars soundtrack. Those compositions are so ubiquitous in geekdom, there's no effort in hearing John Williams' music. Hell, there's a disco medley of Star Wars that occasionally pops up on my work radio – ain't no way you'd hear the same for Star Trek.

In any case, it doesn't matter whether having Star Trek: The Motion Picture is geeky or not, because connoisseurs of sci-fi soundtracks agree Jerry Goldsmith's score is among the best out there. When you think Star Trek, you almost inevitably think of that main theme, a triumphant piece of music, ready to explore the cosmos in the name of adventure and discovery. Of course, it helps they reused the theme for The Next Generation, all but assuring its permanent place in pop culture, but The Motion Picture was its debut, and likely the only thing most folks recall of the movie. That, and the fact it was a slog of special effects over-indulgence. But hey, it’s one of the only Trek movies to go super-hard sci-fi, and I kinda’ appreciate for that, even if I only ever watch it on the laziest of rainy afternoons.

Before I got this soundtrack though, another reason I would throw the movie on was to bask in the wonderfully alien sounds of Craig Huxley’s Blaster Beam, an eighteen-foot long monstrosity of piano strings, aluminum, magnets, and artillery shell (yes, really). Huxley was already making incidental sounds and clips for Trek related media, but when he showed the instrument off to Goldsmith, the composer instantly knew he had his signature sound for the movie's antagonist. And a good thing too, the Blaster Beam injecting a remarkable amount of omnipresent menace and character to nothing more than a lot of special effects and a Voyager probe prop.

Some feel Goldsmith's score was wasted on The Motion Picture, but it's honestly one of the few shining positives of the movie. All those scenes of flying through space, flying through space clouds, flying over impossibly giant probes, and an inconsequential love story would have fallen flatter than Saturn’s rings without the music. Goldsmith captured the mystery and awe of exploration and the unknown as best as anyone could for a hard sci-fi movie, and is worth a listen on those merits.

Thrown in this 20th anniversary collector’s edition is the old Inside Star Trek record, where Gene Roddenberry conducts interviews with cast members and gives lectures. It’s pure Trekkie fluff, with a curious take away: Mr. Roddenberry’s fascination with sex in sci-fi. Ah, so those mini-skirts weren’t standard issue after all.

Kenji Kawai - 2002 Patlabor 2: The Movie "Sound Renewal"

Vap: 1993/2002

I indulge in anime every so often, but am nowhere near otaku levels (ignore that one year marathon in my early twenties, ne?), and definitely not to such a degree I'll snatch up soundtracks. Oh, there’s plenty of stunning works available should you go digging around, but I’m at best a casual watcher. Why, then, do I have the score to Patlabor 2, an anime that, while not hopelessly obscure, seldom comes up in discussion, especially musically. It's certainly no Macross, Cowboy Bebop, or [insert modern classic Sykonee should be checking out]. Heck, it's not even a Ghost In The Shell, the movie director Mamoru Oshii and composer Kenji Kawai worked on right after this one. In some ways though, Patlabor 2 is a conceptual precursor to their work on that flick. To get into those details, however, would utterly derail this review, and I’m here to talk music, not anime - you’ll have to find another site for that (I recommend Anime Abandon by Bennett “The Sage”, should he ever get around to reviewing Patlabor).

While Oshii’s gone down as one of anime’s most influential directors, it’s his partnership with Kawai that helped solidify his legacy. They share a film-making synergy similar to the likes of Burton and Elfman, in that you can’t help but think of the two in unison despite occasionally doing projects without the other’s input. Kawai’s also incredibly diverse when called upon, even within the Patlabor pantheon of movies, OVAs, and TV series. Peppy j-pop, traditional Japanese orchestral, and future-shock industrial, he finds ways molding his music as needed to fit the situation, and as Patlabor 2’s all about political intrigue and philosophical quandary in a near-future mecha-milieu, you bet we get ample amounts of the latter styles on this score.

As Oshii often makes use of montages in this movie (at least, when characters aren’t discussing the meaning of existence, or something), the music had to match the imagery in narrative drive. Thus, Asia’s slow tribal rhythm and ominous strings build upon the growing sense of unease as martial law is instilled upon Tokyo; ...with Love’s gentle pianos and pads contrast with harsh, tentative synths as Nagumo questions her allegiance between her duty and her heart; ”IXTL” trudges along a slow EBM beat and soft falsetto choir, far from the sort of music you’d expect from an action climax, but keeping in tone with the minimalist direction Oshii went with. Wait, when did this turn into a movie review too?

All well and good, but the piece I ultimately bought this soundtrack for was Unnatural City. A recurring motif throughout the movie (there’s three variations), it’s a simple bit of music, haunting discordant pads casting feelings of contemplation and doubt upon the scenes it plays. The easy comparisons are Eno and Glass, but Kawai injects just enough traditional instrumentation underneath to make this sound wholly his own. It’s also perfect for late nights when you find yourself staring out at city lights.

ACE TRACKS: April 2014

I had a good writing groove going for myself recently. Then a brutal weekend of work on a six-day stretch ruined that – now my brain feels like it’s taken an arrow in the ear. Oh well, at least I can still make Spotify Deezer playlists. Here’s April 2014’s big ol’ bundle.



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Musik Non Stop
Prince - Musicology
Nobuo Uematsu - Music From FFV And FFVI Video Games
Various - Moving Shadow 99.1 & 99.2
Various - Motion: A Six Degrees Dance Collection
Various - Mortal Kombat: Annihilation
Various - Mortal Kombat
Banco de Gaia - Maya (20th Anniversary Edition)

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 7%
Percentage of Neil Young: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: unknown - Izlel je Delyo hajdutin (sooo ethnic)

Though the actual releases are not on Spotify Deezer, this playlist has an abundance of tracks from The Music Of ‘Cosmos' and Muzik Classics: Techno. This makes for a weird combination of incredible diversity with batches of similarity – this, in a collection of tunes that’s already freewheeling through more styles of music than you can imagine. It’s remarkable that, despite having classic albums from The Prodigy, Photek, Boards Of Canada, and Solar Fields, their music gets a little lost amongst the symphonic compositions, dub techno, and harder rock.

This is also the longest playlist I’ve put together, clocking well over the eleven hour mark. Obviously that’s the full tracklist, but even without the missing tracks, it’s a lengthy listening experience. I honestly haven’t even given this one a full play-through as of this posting, sequencing tracks based on quick clips and gut intuition. If I’ve stumbled upon some amazing run of unexpected groupings, I assure you it’s almost accidental, perhaps sublimely or hilariously so. Reason enough to fire this playlist up, to sate your own curiosity of the result, I wager!

Toto - Dune (Original Soundtrack)

Polydor: 1984

Even as a kid, I had a handle on most sci-fi movies of the '80s. Star Wars and Star Trek, ain't no th'ang. Higher concept movies like 2010 and The Terminator? Perfectly fine. Dune? Uh... what's going on? A bunch of talky-talk by faux-European space-cultures, plus a slug in a giant, gassy tube. And hey, Captain Picard's in this too! That's awesome! Then people go to Dune, some more stuff happens, a cool sequence with a giant worm goes down, a battle against guys with weird outfits and Sting happens, and oh man I haven't a clue anymore.

Turns out my confuddlement over Dune wasn't just youthful naivety. When I sat down to watch the flick beginning to end as an adult, it still didn't make much sense, though I could at least appreciate the visual design. Costumes, sights, sets, and more from the movie became fixtures in not only geek culture, but even the rave scene, dialog samplers frequently raiding Dune for quotables. Whatever faults the movie had on a narrative level, you couldn’t deny its enduring style.

Same can be said for Toto’s soundtrack. Bringing on the prog-rock conglomerate to score a sci-fi epic sounds utterly daft, but that’s par for the course for director David Lynch. The group didn’t let him down either, the Main Title theme’s epic, soaring sombre strings one of sci-fi’s most recognizable leitmotifs. Elsewhere, the mysterious Trip To Arrakis perfectly captures the eerie surreal setting of spice-based ‘folding space’ travel, while the gentle Paul Meets Chani’s a lovely romantic theme that’s sadly squandered on a barely existent plot thread. And speaking of squandered music, I can’t be the only one that’s disappointed in the shortened Big Battle piece, an exhilarating and triumphant marching reiteration of the Main Title that classically camps out at the climax with operatic choirs and squalling guitars.

Toto being a rock group though, they had to worm in some standards too. Take My Hand sounds way fucking ‘80s, but not so bad as Dune (Desert Theme), where I picture the likes of Yanni in the studio rather than Toto. I suppose Take My Hand is fine for a credit roll (where even characters that barely had two scenes and served no purpose got their mug shot in over rolling sea waves ...wait, why’s there an ocean at the end of a movie called Dune? I’m confuddled again), but Desert Theme doesn’t fit anywhere in the context of this CD. Yes, including one where the clanking Robot Fight mixes in from the Main Title.

Whatever. We all know the true highlight of Dune doesn’t even involve Toto; rather, it’s the Eno-Lanois-Eno piece Prophecy Theme. Rumour has it Brian Eno had done an unofficial score too, this haunting bit of lush ambience the only remaining evidence of such. One can only imagine how that would have turned out, though I suspect Eno being Eno, we wouldn’t have quite as many classic musical cues as Toto provided. Grace in subtlety, right?

Various - The Music Of Cosmos

Cosmos Studios: 1981/2000

How fortunate. I can talk about The Music Of Cosmos at a time when interest in Carl Sagan’s excellent series is part of the public discourse again, thanks to nu-Cosmos currently airing on TV. The Neil DeGrasse Tyson hosted series is pretty good so far, though tends to lack the gravitas the original held, too often bypassing the philosophical notions Sagan brought forth while explaining the wonders around us. The Alan Silvestri score sadly doesn’t help, missing those iconic musical cues that flourished throughout the original series. C’mon, mang, you did Back To The Future, you can do memorable themes. Only thing sticking so far is that bit of piano diddle in the opening credits, and only because it reminds me of the Contact score.

Right, right, this is an unfair comparison, but let’s be honest here: along with everything else, Cosmos stands peerless as a documentary because of its music. Not only did it include synth wizards of the era (Vangelis, Tomita, Synergy), but also works from classical composers (Mozart, Vivaldi, Bach, Pachelbel, Holst, Stravinsky), and even contemporary music like blues and prog-rock (Louis Armstrong, Roy Buchanan, Pink Floyd). No way could Silvestri compete with such a range of music, and one wonders why they didn’t try licensing music out like before. Surely nu-Cosmos has a bigger budget than the original. Did all the money go into those spiffy atom animations?

Whatever. Let’s focus on The Music Of Cosmos, proper original-like. The most famous pieces were the Vangelis compositions. In fact, you can’t hear the gentle piano of Heaven & Hell or synthy bell tones of Alpha without thinking Cosmos, the two completely intertwined in the public consciousness to this day. Folks probably figure Vangelis specifically wrote all these works for Cosmos, but were actually plucked from older albums. There are a couple exclusive synth works here though, both by an anonymous chap named Boydstun, whom even the mighty Lord Discogs knows nothing about. Hell, he never even made the cut on the original ’81 vinyl, though neither did several other works. Thank goodness for twenty year anniversary double-CD editions, eh?

One of the clever things about The Music Of Cosmos is how the tracks are arranged to tell a narrative of sorts, specifically of the cosmos as humanity’s come to understand it, and perhaps foresee our possible fates. Helping the tale along are sound effects bridging the music together. For instance, just before Vangelis’ Alpha starts, a massive explosion erupts from the desolate calm of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 11. A supernova creating the heavier elements? I’d say so. Meanwhile on CD2, where technology’s run rampant, chainsaws mercilessly cut down old growth forest before the melancholy Prayer of St. Gegory emerges.

Not the most subtle of messages, that, but Sagan’s gift was presenting such messages as a means to inspire ourselves to become better than we are. The rich diversity of music presented in The Music Of Cosmos only proves humanity’s ability to do so.

James Horner - Braveheart

London Classics: 1995

What a bizarre week of music. That's what I get for taking on someone else's teenaged CD collection, but some sense of it all would be nice. All of these, it just don't add up: ace synth-pop, corny euro-pop, old-timey rock, over-the-top rock, boring-as-sludge rock, and now this. At least James Horner makes use of a tiny bit of electronic music on this soundtrack – like, a brief bit of ominous pad in Revenge - but that's more synth work than half of the other material I've covered this past week (to say nothing of what's yet to come).

Anyhow, Braveheart was the movie that turned Mel Gibson from heartthrob action movie star into super-mega serious acting star. Also, quicker than you could say “bye, Costner”, Hollywood found themselves a sparkling new historical-epic director, ol’ Mel setting the world of film on fire in the ensuing decades with many more successful directorial follow-ups. Then he set his career on literal fire while standing on a rickety rope bridge, likely spouting a bunch of drunken nutjob nonsense.

It's been years since I last watched the movie, endless parodies and Mr. Gibson's increasing meltdowns making it difficult to take it seriously anymore. I never was in much of a hurry to make a repeated viewing of Braveheart anyway, a movie that had a terrific first half, then dragged as dry politics and blunt martyrdom replaced a compelling storyline and intense action. An extended public execution is the movie's climax? Well, that's just all sorts of depressing (and subtle-as-a-brick symbolic). Why not throw in the full Bannockburn Battle at the end, give the audience its proper cathartic release? Oh, right, it’s Mel’s movie.

James Horner’s score for Braveheart perfectly captures the narrative downward slope of this Mediaeval melodrama. By the mid-‘90s, Horner was well established as one of Hollywood’s A-list composers, despite his work never catching onto pop culture until Titanic. Braveheart inched him a bit closer to the top though, with stirring uilleann pipe themes conjuring images of romantic pastoral Scottish days long since gone. Funny, that, as the uilleann pipe is in fact Irish in origin (which explains why I think Celtic music instead), but as these pipes have a softer, melodic tone to them, it’s understandable why Horner would utilize them over traditional Highland Bagpipes.

The pipe theme is often repeated in the early portions of the score, as are many recurring melodies and leitmotifs, of which Horner’s always excelled at (possibly only rivalled by John Williams). As Braveheart plays through, it’s easy to recall all the associated moments from the movie, including the powerful build of The Battle Of Stirling. Unfortunately, the CD never recaptures that peak. As we move into the aforementioned ‘politics-n-martyrdom’ segments, it seems Horner’s run out of gripping music too. It’s still serviceable score work, just nothing as captivating as the pieces that made up the first half. At least they weren’t in danger of also getting turned into a trance tune by DJ Sakin.