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.

Paul Oakenfold - Swordfish: The Album (Original TC Review)

London-Sire Records: 2001

(2015 Update:
Did anyone get the parody in this review? My extended riff on the only good part about the movie, John Travolta's opening monologue regarding Hollywood's lack of realism? Guess you'd have to hear it in the first place, which I doubt many reading this ever did. Well, here's a good ol' linky to it on YouTube for you to get your kicks in. Now you can read this old review as intended, as envisioned, as ordained.

This was a fun one to write, especially coming off that horrendous album of 'original' material Oakenfold had released the same year. It's held up much better too, at least in that vintage turn-o'-the-millennium prog-trance stylee folks continue reminiscing over. I'd make a quip about the same being untrue for the movie, but I still haven't seen it, and probably never will. The version of Swordfish playing in my head based on the few clues given by the music here is almost certainly leagues better than anything committed to film.)


IN BRIEF: Better than remembered.

The year 2001. Such a memorable year, wasn’t it? No, I’m not referring to that incident; I mean before then. A time when we felt complacent and self-assured about things. A time when we still felt the buzz of the 90s, the silly Y2K superstitions having blown away with the wind. A time when young loves and romantic rendezvous was heartfelt and genuine (well, in my neck of the woods).

The year 2001. Remember how great electronic music was then? When electroclash was new and exciting? How house music was at glorious heights courtesy of the French? How NRG was dying off (well, I celebrated)? When seeing the name Oakenfold in production credits still equaled class?

Oh, yes, my newbie readers. Even if folks were divided on the merits of his DJing in those days, few disputed Paul’s worth as a producer, his track record throughout the '90s impeccable. Despite never actually spearheading any genre, whatever style he jumped on could be counted on as a worthy addition to the movement.

So, does anyone remember the buzz surrounding his involvement with the soundtrack to Hollywood’s faux-hacker thriller Swordfish? I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t, as it was buried under the other hype going into the movie: John Travolta doing the post-modern villain thing; Halle Berry showing nipples for an outlandish fee; Joel Silver, still flashing ‘bankable’ from The Matrix, being promoted as the hot producer for the flick. Yeah, Paul’s involvement probably didn’t register much in the minds of the movie biz faithful.

But, oh, did it matter in clubland. As far as many were concerned, this was the closest thing to a solo Oakenfold album yet (his work with Grace is often regarded as a collaborative effort), and his huge fanbase was eagre to check out the results.

Right, right. Swordfish isn’t exactly all Oakenfold. Three tracks don’t have his imprint on it, and one isn’t even from his label (the Lemon Jelly song, which unsurprisingly sounds the most unique amongst the others). Everything else, though, finds Paul getting his fingers in. Whether as producer, remixer, or collaborator, the Oakenfold (and Andy Gray, heh) touch is felt. Although you can definitely hear how these tracks would work in the movie itself, their worth isn’t hindered if you haven’t seen it (er, like me). Between clear-cut songs (Jan Johnston’s Unafraid; N*E*R*D’s Lapdance; the Planet Rock remix), trancey Perfecto cuts (Dark Machine; Muse’s New Born; Patient Saints’ On Your Mind), and obvious made-for-movie moments (Speed; Password), every one of them holds enough musical strength to keep your attention.

Holding everything together, and raising the bar on this release, is the maintained theme. While most soundtracks of this nature grab a collection of random, if not similar sounding tunes and hope for the best, Swordfish’s keeps the moody techno-trance tone intact for the duration. Even if the BPMs vary by ten or twenty, it flows naturally from song to song. This is arguably the most consistent soundtrack I’ve heard, short of orchestral and true solo works of course.

Unfortunately, Paul’s work here was doomed to soundtrack tie-in failure. There were no clear-cut singles to promote it and no big anthems tearing up the clubs from it. The final nail in the coffin was Swordfish’s own lackluster performance at the theater. Without a sizable audience eagre to hear the music associated with the flick, the soundtrack’s sales were paltry. Oakenfold’s ‘debut’ project was quickly forgotten with an unremarkable whimper, his attention now focused on a proper artist album. So endeth the Swordfish saga.

But what if - now this is the tricky part - what if folks looked past the theatrical tie-in. No movie, no hype: just treat it as a concept album, a collaborative effort with Paul’s ideas leading the charge. Lock, stock. Still no good? C’mon. How much Hollywood marketing thrown out the window would it take for the fans to reverse their stance on this soundtrack’s worthiness? And this is early 2001! There’s still optimism, still a lack of cynicism, and Paul’s star, Paul’s star is still shining!

Now, fast forward to today; diff’rent time, diff’rent place. How quickly we are to mock Oakenfold and slam anything he does in a matter of hours. An, an easily laughed at story, from Swordfish to Lively Mind. A sell-out stumble. Again, again. Relentless. Trip, splat. One after the other. All displayed on the ‘net: downloaded, compressed, mocked, and ridiculed; you can practically see the ship sinking. And all for what? A mansion, a plane? A couple million pounds of blow to shoot straight up the nose?

As easy as it is to point to Swordfish’s failure as the beginning of Oakenfold’s end, looking at just the music itself reveals some actual thought and consideration going into this. Treated as a collection of moody, trancey tunes, there’s some decent material to be had. And, no matter what you may think of Oakenfold these days, Swordfish is at least worth a pick-up should you ever spot it in a bargain bin along with the DVD, as some of these cuts don’t deserve to be lost with bungled Hollywood hype.

Well, just a thought.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved

Biosphere - Substrata²

Origo Sound/Touch: 1997/2001

The only Biosphere album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Biosphere fan. What an odd thing to say, considering most point to his first two albums, Microgravity and Patashnik, as the classic Biosphere stylee. But then Geir Jenssen had to go and make a classic ambient LP with Substrata, all but cementing his legacy as one of the premier acts in the genre. Okay, he already had done that, though not everyone was into the sci-fi bleep techno either. When you go full-on ambient though, with the pads and the layers and the drones and the field recordings, you get the attention of all ambient heads, from the Eno old-schoolers to the Namlook nu-stylers, and all the savvy Roach-Orb-Obmana disciples between.

Specifically, Substatra marked a significant change in how Mr. Jenssen treated his Biosphere project. Instead of crafting music with a sci-fi, futuristic bent, he set his sights closer to home, grounding his compositions within our earthly domain, and localizing them deep within his native lands of northern Norway. This is dark, moody ambient that glows bright within the reflections of crackling fires against snow covered fields. This is spacious ambient as heard echoing off jagged, glacial mountains. This is intimate, melancholic ambient, absorbed while huddled in a lonesome cabin outpost during the dead of Arctic Circle winter, aurora borealis cascading across Ursa Major and Casseopeia. These are all metaphors and similes that have undoubtedly been oft repeated when describing Substrata since its release nearly two decades ago. I want my kick at the can though, darn it all.

Substrata is essential ambient, of that there’s no doubt. It’s one of the most unique offerings of the genre, and responsible for many future attempts at emulating droning winter chill. However, that isn’t the album you’re supposed to have. No, that would be this 2001 version, Substrata², which includes a remastering of the original, plus a second CD containing the two bonus Japanese tracks, and score work for an old-timey Russian silent film Man With A Movie Camera.

The latter came about when Geir was approached by the Tromso International Film Festival to write a new soundtrack to the 1929 original, I suppose to give a modern interpretation based on film-maker Dziga Vertov’s notes. Though they share similar aesthetics, Man With A Movie Camera is more abstract than Substrata, and probably makes better sense when viewed with the film. Meanwhile, the Japanese tracks are more like Biosphere’s earlier works, The Eye Of The Cyclone doing the upbeat sci-fi ambient techno thing, while eleven-minute long Endurium going for the slower, downbeat take on that style. Both sound like they were works Geir produced before abandoning beats altogether for Substrata proper. As b-sides though, these are mint.

Anything else I write here is elementary. If you haven’t heard Substrata yet because of some preconceived doubts of its brilliance, let my voice add to the choir that the hype is justified, and spring for the double-disc version while you’re at it.

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.

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.

Kitaro - Silk Road II

Polydor: 1980

It's negligent discussing Kitaro's early career without bringing up The Silk Road. The seminal archaeological series was already a remarkable achievement for documentaries, among the first major ones produced in the Far East, and often highly regarded alongside Western greats like Attenborough's Life series and Sagan's Cosmos. It provided an intimate look at China's historical sights and locales, many of which had never been filmed or photographed during the nation’s reclusive years, much less exposed to the world. And as with so many of these sorts of shows, the soundtrack was vital to its success as a series. Just as you can't think of Cosmos without thinking of music from Vangelis, so it is with The Silk Road and Kitaro.

For anyone who’s watched the series, sounds of synthesized Far East harmonies is practically synonymous with the image of camel caravans traversing the desert against a setting sun. And a great many have, doing wonders for Kitaro’s exposure abroad. He was already making a name for himself with his original works and albums, but chances were unless you were hip to that whole synth music scene, his material would pass you by. Besides, how could he challenge Tomita for the crown of “Most Popular Japanese Synth Wizard” anyway? Music in a beloved documentary series certainly helps, not to mention an ear for melding the exotic with traditionalism making for easy appeal for folks of all walks in life.

If anything, having his music coupled with images of desert vistas, flowing rivers, mountain passes, ancient cultures, and a sense of mystery and discovery helped sell Kitaro’s style. It’s easy to take the these tunes out of that context and hear the New Age, sentimental sap creep in, which I’m sure some might if they simply played them plucked from the soundtrack. Certainly you can glean a few things on your own with titles like Takla Makan Desert (wide open landscapes) and Silver Moon (haunting beauty) without watching a single image of wind-swept sand dunes and the like. Seeing centuries old Buddhist statues though, so impeccably preserved in desert caves accompanied by Kitaro’s classic flutes, sparkling synths, and soothing pads, all playing captivating folk harmonies as the most evocative Far East music goes... Yeah, there’s something rather magic about it all, I must admit.

As The Silk Road’s initial run lasted twelve episodes, Kitaro crafted many compositions for the series, two full-length albums in all. Remarkably, very few tracks sound all that ‘soundtracky’, most capably standing on their own. In volume II’s case, Eternal Spring and Reincarnation have more rhythmic urgency about them, Magical Sand Dance and Tienshan go for larger crescendos, and Dawning works in synthesized chants, but all retain that sense of timelessness of the ancient world, traditionalism surviving even to the digital era. Both Silk Road albums are probably worth getting, though I’m talking up this one because it has one of my all-time favourite Kitaro pieces in Silver Moon on it. Used CD shop options were considered too.

Adham Shaikh - Resonance - Selected Ambient Works

Sonicturtle Records/Black Swan Sounds: 2010/2013

Hearing Adham Shaikh branch out into music with more tempo and groove is all well and good, but it was his ambient productions that got me digging deeper. Still, though he'd mostly left that part of his career in the '90s, it didn't stop him from composing pieces in his spare time or for other projects. Prominent among these were sounds and scores for various, small-budget films and documentaries, mostly dealing with things like spiritualism, activism, and yogaism. And while they didn’t lead to anything officially released on the market, he kept those works on hand should their ever be an opportunity to make use of them. Turns out there was, in the number of recommendations from associates and friends that told ol’ Adham that he needed to make these available to all us common folk out here in the music wilds. Hey, if it worked for Aphex Twin, why not Adham Shaikh? Oh yes you better believe the Selected Ambient Works sub-title was gonna’ get remarked upon. Uh, that’s I got on that.

Anyhow, I can’t deny once again having preconceived notions of what Resonance would be going in. A return to Journey To The Sun, mayhaps, or a fresh take on ambient dub, as so many ethnic fusion types often do. Heck, even something deeply meditative again would be interesting, just to hear if Mr. Shaikh had picked up some new techniques in composing such music.

Instead, we’re dealing with pieces that are very much score orientated, some sounding not all that dissimilar to the piano and drone works of early Brian Eno (Ambient Dream, Warm Hope, Fibonacci Spriral Song, Opaquealyptic), though with a slight worldy twist. Others tread close to the New Age realm with their heavy mystical and spiritual vibe (Voices Of Hope, Om Shanti Shanti), not a surprising development given Mr. Shaikh’s deep involvement in the yoga scene. A few pieces go all in with traditional sounds like woodwinds and string instruments (Mountains Of The World, For The Heart of The World, Dew Daisy), and a few more run for lengthier times (Gayatri Mantra, Satori), suggesting not everything on Resonance was intended for visual accompaniment. Or maybe they were inspired by credits sequences.

That was my initial trouble with Resonance, where I couldn’t disassociate the music from its original intent of score compositions. It was still enjoyable on that level of course, but without seeing the films, I felt something was lacking. Mind you, it didn’t help I was playing these in the background, never quite focusing on the music. Until it came time for the standard ‘in MP3 player, on headphones, walk’ playthrough anyway, which I always do before writing a review (daily commutes help with this). With my attention properly focused then, my goodness did this music ever open up to my ears! Those stunning, captivating ambient textures that wooed me in Journey To The Sun, they were all here, lurking underneath, waiting to seduce an attentive mind. How’s he keep doing this?

Sasha - The emFire Collection (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
Ugh. This review's clunkier than I remember, and unfortunately suffers from an opening paragraph dependent upon reading prior material on TranceCritic. I don't even recall specific details regarding Sasha's short-lived label now. I think it was intended as a means of officially releasing Coma after enough interest in it grew when it was a self-titled white label, but my memory's hazy on that. Whatever the case, it seems the emFire portion of Sasha's career has been reduced to a mere footnote, a blip of information in what he was doing during minimal deep-tech's era of clubbing dominance. It sure didn't do the music on here any favors.

Coma remains a blinder of a track, and I've developed some appreciation for Who Killed Sparky?, but Mongoose and Park It In The Shade are wholly forgettable. Compounding the problem is the utterly pointless CD1. Slam's remixes were fine for Slam remixes - you kinda' know what you're getting with their brand of techno - and The Field's second remix holds up by feeling so old school. Audion and Radio Slave though, dear God are their rubs balls out boring. And while there's nothing musically at fault with New Emissions, the lack of indexing for all the various pieces holds back whatever potential repeat plays it may have had. I was entirely too kind in my conclusions to this double-discer back in the day. Sasha productions are rare enough, and The emFire Collection feels like such a waste of studio time now.)


IN BRIEF: Better than a stopgap.

Right. No sense in getting into the background particulars of this release then. You should all know who this Sasha character is, and, fortunately for me, the history of emFire was already covered by J’ [2015 Edit: whoops, that review’s gone]. All I have to do now is tell you whether all those remixes are worth your attention and fill you in on the details of that forty-minute long track that’s undoubtedly caught your attention. Eh? You want more than that? *sigh*

Thing is, even though you’ll find this filed under ‘Sasha’, The emFire Collection isn’t a fully fleshed-out release from Mr. Coe and his production associates. It would seem, as with the vinyl editions of his four recent singles, Sasha wanted to do something a little extra special for the CD release of them. He didn’t have enough material to make a proper album, yet an EP release like Xpander wouldn’t do either. So, he called up some of the hottest names in contemporary club culture to provide remixes. Par for the course where dance music is concerned but somewhere along the way, the idea was planted the remixers should flex their muses as well with two versions on their chosen emFire single: one for the dancefloor, and the other something more for the home-front (re: experimental). The result is a full disc’s worth dedicated to this project, with Sasha’s originals now shuffled off onto a second disc.

So, we have neither a true artist album but more than just a remix package. This places The emFire Collection somewhere in leagues with The Qat Collection when one glances at Sasha’s discography. All that’s left to answer is whether this Collection is worth your hard earned coin to place in your collection. That entirely depends on what you’re looking to get out of these CDs.

If the remixes were the first to grab your attention, you may come away rather disappointed. Even though names like Matthew Dear (as Audion), Matthew Edwards (as Radio Slave), and Axel “not Matthew” Willner (as The Field) have earned plenty of critical praise this past year, their minimalist musical styles are quite in contrast to Sasha’s enveloping atmospheric productions. The experimental rubs have some intriguing sounds on offer - Edwards turns in an agreeable dub techno go at Who Killed Sparky? - but are hardly essential either; Dear in particular spends over a dozen minutes going nowhere with his minimal dub loops. On the other hand, Edwards goes overboard on his Panorama Garage Mix, with a techno rework that is appropriately sinister and atmospheric but lasts a good three-to-five minutes too long; meanwhile, Dear’s dance-rub of Park It In The Shade is a nifty little groovy-woozy thing. And as for Slam, well, they do Slam with their takes on Coma: fine for the ambient/tech-house offerings they are but nothing groundbreaking. Ultimately, though, very few elements of Sasha’s originals are utilized in these remixes, beyond effects and traces of atmosphere; if you’re hoping for creative takes on Sasha melodies, you’ve come to the wrong place.

Aside from Willner’s Disco Mix of Mongoose, that is. The original was lodged somewhere between Shade and Sparky in terms of how it sounds but in Willner’s hands, it comes across like some long-lost Underworld groove complemented with classic trance execution. Long time fans of Sasha’s sound will undoubtedly enjoy this one the most.

Still, such folks are going to be more interested in the second disc anyway. Even though tracks like Shade, Sparky, and Mongoose are sparser than the types of tracks most expect from Sasha, there’s still more vitality to them than anything to be heard on the remix disc. And Coma remains a lovely slice of melodically lush atmospherics, once again proving Misters Coe and May are a potent team in the studio whenever Sasha feels the ol’ muse tickling his noggin.

However, in a move that will probably irk those who held out on the vinyl and MP3 versions of these emFire singles for a copy on CD, the tracks are edited; honestly though, this does make better sense from a home-listening standpoint. And besides, if Sasha hadn’t pared them down a little, then he wouldn’t have been able to fit that little film score onto this disc. Yes, finally I’ve gotten around to that. For those not in the know New Emissions Of Light And Sound is a DVD featuring surfers. I haven’t seen it, nor can I say I’m particularly inclined to do so anytime soon; however, the music Sasha made for it is definitely worth your attention.

Not the first time Sasha’s done soundtrack work (he provided music for WipEout 3, remember? Oh, you don’t. Never mind then...), the music he’s made is somewhat simpler than his usual output. Still, a ‘simple Sasha’ tends to be far more intuitive than a good eighty percent of electronic musicians out there, and New Emissions is a lovely listen. There’s blissy ambient passages, moody funky moments, gentle synth washes, Coma, and brief stabs at experimentalism too. And although I can easily picture waves and beaches and surfers set against sunset backdrops as this plays, it could work just as fine for any number of scenic pieces. The only gripe about New Emissions - and it’s unfortunately a serious one - is that none of it is indexed. There are definite individual tracks on this, with names like Gothic Mood, Rooski, and Stars, but instead of being able to skip to the bits you’d like to hear at any given time, it’s all arranged into a continuous mix with obvious transitions.

And really, that kind of sums up emFire Collection as a whole. There’s a fair amount to enjoy here but it’s presented in such a way that leaves something to be desired. Honestly, given how disparate everything is on here, I’m not sure Sasha could have made this a fluid sounding release across two discs. I’d still call this a welcome addition to anyone’s music collection but compared to other releases with Sasha’s name on the cover, it probably won’t get as many plays.

Various - Pulp Fiction

MCA Records: 1994

Shame I didn't get to this CD a little sooner – say, last yearish. I could’ve generated cheap traffic by piggy-backing off clickbait articles like “Hey, It’s The 20th Anniversary Of That Movie You Can’t Stop Quoting!” But alas, we're already two weeks deep into 2015, long past the expiry date of people nostalgically revisiting Pulp Fiction's 1994 release. Who cares that it came out mid-November of that year, thus making us but two months late for twentieth-anniversary prestige. Hell, as I recall, Tarantino's opus to the mush of storytelling didn't catch popular buzz until well into '95, finding more fanfare on the home video market where all us impressionable underage Gen-X types could finally watch it. And hoo, what a movie to behold, making not a lick of sense but strangely captivating as Hollywood stars waxed bullshit over obscene circumstances.

Plus the music! Wow, where did ol' Quentin find all that awesome music? His personal record collection apparently, turning many of his flicks into as much a mixtape as they are ‘70s genre-sploitations. Of course, with over two decades to study his methods, having rare, odd, and perfect tunes’ become the expectant norm, and unfortunately nothing’s made quite the impact that the surf rock of Misirlou did. Still, Tarantino made a style of music that had been absolutely dead for three decades hip again. That’s quite an achievement, and though it didn’t resurrect into a reinvigorated scene, it did create a new generation of crate divers digging a little further into obscure musical cul-de-sacs. Erm, not me though – I still had ‘techno’.

So the surf rock is primarily what Pulp Fiction’s music is remembered for, and for good reason. Beyond the killer opener, at least a third of the music on this soundtrack is in that style. Another significant chunk is taken up by dark, bluesy country, though not always specifically from that scene. Heavy rockers Urge Overkill do a cover of Neil Diamond’s Girl, You’ll Soon Be A Woman, and then-newcomer Maria McKee goes full-on whisky folk, but every track has that ‘outlaw’ feeling that Tarantino loves writing into protagonists. Not so much always the ‘bad guys’, as he’s featured his fair share of vigilantes too. More like desperados, and can you think of any sub-sub American culture that was filled with those sorts than the outlaws of the country? Sure, the surfer nation! Nothing caught that vintage American West desperado spirit like freeloaders taking on the mighty waves of the Pacific Ocean, risking life and limb to prove Man was undefeatable in the face of his Mother Nature’s fury. Well, the music suggested as such.

Look, I’m just waxing bullshit here for the sake of my own ego (like a Tarantino movie!). Even if you haven’t seen Pulp Fiction (!), you’ve probably seen a parody or two, and know its music and culled bits of dialog from those. You don’t need me telling you to check this out, because you already have, even if only by cultural osmosis.

Various ‎– π - Music For The Motion Picture

Sire Records Company: 1998

As promised in the last review, here is your Pi. What do you mean this isn't what I meant? Look, it’s not my fault you misheard what I typed, but what did you expect? I can't manifest baked pastry goods from the intercloud and have them promptly delivered to your computer desks and palms of your tablets. And even if I could because you're one of the lucky few who have a 3D printer, I guarantee it’ll taste awful, even with whipped topping. So how about a delicious assortment of late '90s 'electronica' that soundtracked a movie about puzzling mysteries related to the number pi? (get lost, Geogaddi - you're last month's joke)

Okay, I haven’t actually seen the flick, though it’s on my ever-growing ‘check out someday’ list. I cannot deny some curiosity in how a paranoid thriller could work in Banco de Gaia’s Drippy in there, one of Toby Marks’ more chipper tunes at the time. I highly doubt it was assembled through studio and label dealings, this being an indie film and all. Maybe former Pop Will It Itself member Clint Mansell, who handled the music duties (and kicked off a successful run as a film composer in the process) is just a Banco fan too?

Even within the context of Pi, the CD, Drippy is an odd one out. The only other light-hearted track on here is Aphex Twin’s Bucephalus Bouncing Ball, and that goes all scatter-skitchy after awhile, just like protagonist Maximillian Cohen’s head, if I’m reading the IDMB synopsis right. I guess Spacetime Continuum’s A Low Frequency Inversion Field is upbeat too, if you count psychedelic space ambient as positive energy flow.

Mostly though, Pi features smatterings of electronic genres on a darker tip. There’s the Ed Rush & Optical Remix of Roni Size’s Watching Windows, combining two of drum-n-bass’ then-trendiest sub-genres under the sun (tech-jazzstep!). Trip-hop’s taken care of in Massive Attack’s Angel (of course). Downbeat EBM sludge gets a nod from Psilonaut’s Third From The Sun, though I suspect this genre’s only here due to TVT Record’s massive influence on soundtracks at the time. And hey, do you remember ‘technorganic’ tribal? You will after hearing GusGus’ Anthem. Naturally, big-beat must be featured, and that’s handled by from Clint Mansell himself We Got The Gun; his other track, 2πr, goes jungle). Finally (or initially, since it’s the first proper track on here), there’s… whatever the awesome P.E.T.R.O.L. from Orbital is. I’m calling it evil techno-electrocore, because why not.

Like the movie itself, Pi earned something of a cult following way back when, an edgy alternative to all the mainstream mega-selling soundtracks with obvious names and tunes. True, Roni Size, Orbital, and Massive Attack weren’t exactly under the radar when it came to ‘electronica’ collections, but their selections here were definitely off the beaten path (wow, Orbital had more licensed songs than The Saint and Halcyon & On & On?). Easily worth the fiver it’ll be selling for in a used shop.

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.

Vangelis - L'Apocalypse Des Animaux

Polydor: 1973/1991

Speaking of gathering music from Carl Sagan’s Cosmos, there was one frequently used composition I was disappointed never appeared on the The Music Of Cosmos 2CD set. It wasn’t a one-off like Pink Floyd’s One Of These Days either – it appeared frequently, a droning bit of gentle, background ambience most memorably used during the ‘galaxy showcase’ in The Edge Of Forever. As the series repeatedly used Vangelis’ music, I suspected it was one of the Greek composer’s pieces as well; however, nothing like it appeared on Heaven & Hell or Albedo 0.39, the two albums Cosmos primarily cribbed music from. There were no original music credits available either, so I had no clue whether I was on the right track. Did I have any hope in solving this mystery?

With luck, I recently stumbled upon a website that had listed Cosmos’ original music cue sheet for each episode. A bit of sleuthing later, and I discovered I was indeed correct in the music being of Vangelis origin. What I hadn’t counted on was it originating from Mr. Papathanassiou’s very first album!

The piece, by the way, is called Création Du Monde, which appeared in the soundtrack for a mostly forgotten French nature documentary called L’Apocalypse Des Animaux. Story goes Vangelis, while still a part of psychedelic rock act Aphrodite’s Child, had begun writing incidental music intended for licensing out for shows of such sort. Frederic Rossif, who made the film, snatched the rights to these compositions, and thus formed the officially released soundtrack to L’Apocalypse Des Animaux. Not that the details terribly matter - the brief opening ‘jungle rhythm’ track aside (subtitled Generique), this LP may as well be considered Vangelis’ first official solo album.

What’s most fascinating about this music is just how far back it dates, and the undeniable influences it imparted. Création De Monde is Eno ambient half a decade before Music For Airports: droning ebbs and flows of synths pads, occasional calming plucks of strings or bells, and ten minutes of pure, floating bliss. Minimalism was kicking around, true, but not designed with such a relaxing approach to song craft. Even more ambient is La Mer Recommencée, which adds light cymbal washes to the droning synth work, leading into a crescendo as it plays out.

Or, if you’re more familiar with Vangelis’ later score work, La Petite Fille de la Mer captures the same delicate innocence of Carly’s Song. Likewise, Le Singe Bleu is all gentle keyboards and lonesome trumpet – not quite Bladerunner Blues, but certainly just as stirring. Stephen Halpern must have been playing close attention to those keyboard tones too, sounding quite similar to his Keynote series that kicked off the whole New Age movement.

And all this lovely music was originally wasted on images of animals. My mind boggles. Yeah, I can see Création Du Monde working with the sight of birds in flight, but Sagan had the right idea. This music far deserves the grandeur and scope of the galaxies.

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.

Nobuo Uematsu - Music From FFV And FFVI Video Games

Squaresoft: 1999

Not the dorkiest thing I have in my music collection, but this definitely has to be up there. I wouldn't even call this CD a part of my proper library; rather, it was a bonus disc in the PS1 release of Final Fantasy: Anthology. When I heard Squaresoft was bringing its past games to the Sony gaming system, I was elated. Final Fantasy III/VI had already brought incredible RPG moments during my all-too brief period of Super Nintendo enjoyment, and though I still had the original cart (even to this day, including packaging, booklets, and maps – make me an offer, collectors!), I'd long since given my SNES away. Having FFVI on a then-current system was a great chance to replay the game (I lacked a computer capable of playing emulators), plus us folks in the Americanas would finally get a proper port of Final Fantasy V. Sweet deal, right?

Eh, not as I'd hoped. Something I never considered – and maybe even Squaresoft overlooked – were the laggy loading times PS1 games suffered from. It didn't happen often, but anytime a pile of sprites ran across the screen (oh hi, Quasar Lore), the audio wouldn't load as fast. Meanwhile, FFV was disappointing, a seemingly rushed affair with overstuffed options and minuscule plot. I beat it once in one of the easiest final boss fights I’ve ever encountered in an RPG, defeating the giant space-tree with only one character spamming the Jump command and blocking everything with the Aegis equipment. I understand Squaresoft was more focused on producing FFVI at the time, and essentially rushed FFV out into the market, but that still-

What? Oh, sorry, got carried away there - this isn’t a gaming blog. Then again, giving a quick overview of the games within FF: Anthology helps explain this bonus CD’s oddities. Nobuo Uematsu’s work for FFVI was some of his best, the compositions he squeezed out of the Nintendo S-SMP nothing short of astounding, pushing the 16-bit soundcard to ridiculous levels of awesome (that echo and reverb!). The original score took up three CDs, so in making use of but a quarter of that material for FF: Anthology, careful consideration of track selection was... Nah, screw that. Here’s a bunch of wildly disparate music instead.

Only two character themes make it here: Terra and Mog. Out of a cast of fourteen, that’s it? Terra’s an obvious one, sure, but Mog? Mog!? Some of the other selections are definitely classic – the Phantom Forest music, Dark World, Wild West, Epitaph - but I doubt folks would take Johnny C Slam Spinach Shuffle Rag over Forever Rachel or anything Opera House related. I suspect the selected pieces are meant to show off Uematsu’s diversity rather than placate with fan favourites, but it still leaves this CD lacking in notable selling points.

As for the few FFV selections, they’re okay, though sound rather Nobuo Generic, if that’s any way to describe music. I’m sure Final Fantasy followers will know what I mean.

Various - Mortal Kombat: Annihilation

TVT Records: 1997

The movie Mortal Kombat: Annihilation represented everything that sucked about being a teenager in the '90s: utter ruination of a popular franchise, clueless pandering with pointless character cameos, over-reliance of shit CGI, crap plotting, no campy charm, and generally just poo. It showcased how little corporate executives thought of the demographic, figuring we'd eat up any ol' slop. Okay, they were right on most occasions, but after the surprise quality of the first Mortal Kombat movie, we expected better. Man, fuck this movie.

Speaking of failures, let's talk about the soundtrack. Something feels totally off about Annihilation compared to the first, as though TVT Records were unwillingly sucked into the 'electronica' hype machine and forced to accommodate the rising bankable genre going forward. For a label known primarily for industrial rock, shoving in a pile of one-off breaks acts must have been frustrating for them. Or maybe not, and they truly were gung-ho about this turn.

Thing about the first soundtrack is it didn’t even come off like a soundtrack; rather, a mixtape from TVT staff, giving equal share and exposure to thrashy techno, industrial, and metal (plus a few original pieces from George S. Clinton). Annihilation, in contrast, is almost all ‘electronica’ of some form. KMFDM at least get a return spot, and I’m sure plenty were properly introduced to Rammstein by way of their classic Engel (for those who weren’t, Du Hast was just around the corner!). Elsewhere, industrial gets a spit more of attention with one-off act Urban Voodoo, and that’s it for the genre. Metal? Hah, don’t make me laugh. Megadeth’s Almost Honest is turned into a Spawn clone via Danny Saber, and that’s it – unless you count the thrashy guitars in Scooter’s Fire as metal, since that’s about as close as anything else gets to the genre on here. Yeah, I don’t think so.

It’s essentially generic ‘action-movie’ big beat making up the remaining two-thirds of Annihilation, surprisingly none produced by Junkie XL. Remember how Mortal Kombat had distinctive songs that perfectly fit with the scenes and characters? Forget that nonsense in Annihilation. Perfect example is the use of FSOL’s We Have Explosive, horribly shoe-horned in a lame fight between Lui Kang and Baraka, for barely thirty seconds! But hey, they got the rights to use it, so better shove it in somewhere. Think about it: Annihilation made the f’n FSOL sound pointless and inconsequential. Man, fuck this movie.

Just as a collection of tunes, then, does this CD hold up? Without the movie association or comparison with the first CD, only barely, and thanks largely in part to the inclusion of some choice material from those already mentioned (plus Psykosonik, Juno Reactor, Cirrus, and Lunatic Calm). Keep in mind though, the music’s so late ‘90s sounding, you can practically see the wire-fu action sequences as they play out. The good tunes can be found elsewhere, and the lesser cuts are forgotten by the end of a play-through. Annihilation’s pathetic legacy, as it were.

Various - Mortal Kombat

TVT Records: 1995

The movie Mortal Kombat represented everything awesome about being a teenager in the ‘90s. Based on the classic fighter that pissed off no end of mothers and sold a ton of Sega Genesis (“we got blood, yo!”), a film was inevitable despite a jaded gaming culture untrusting of such things. Yet against the odds, Mortal Kombat delivered about as good a movie as the demographic could have hoped (re: campy fun; didn’t outright suck). The original score was composed by long-time Warner studio hand George S. Clinton (who also went on to do the Austin Powersmovies), while several songs were licensed by TVT Records to give the movie that proper Gen-X feel. And hoo, what a soundtrack it is!

Mortal Kombat’s well regarded in how it exposed many to electronic music, despite techno making up barely one-third of the track list. TVT though, they had a few signed acts too, including many industrial groups. KMFDM’s biggest hit, Juke-Joint Jezebel, is featured in the opening couple cuts, leading right into ‘techno jihadists’ Psykosonik and Juno Reactor- whoops, I mean Traci Lords. If any metal-leaning teen felt ‘techno’ was “gay-ass shit”, Control’s a track that had them reconsidering, slamming beats and thrashing riffs galore. Additional industrial rock acts like Sister Machine Gun and Bile didn’t hurt in further cementing that connection. Also, this was the first soundtrack Orbital’s Halcyon + On + On was featured, beating Hackers by a month.

Then there’s the metal. Fear Factory’s Zero Signal was the standout of the bunch, mostly from acting as the backing score to Johnny Cage and Scorpion’s match (arguably the best scene of the whole movie). There’re old hands like G//Z/R (such grinding guitars!) and Napalm Death, and newer acts like Type O Negative and short-lived Mutha’s Day Out. A solid assortment of music for the metalheads, then, and an incredible eye-opener of the genre’s potential for the sorts who never gave it a chance before (*cough*).

And what discussion about the music of Mortal Kombat is complete without bringing up The Immortals? I’m certain Virgin only had a quick cash-in on mind when they approached Oliver Adams and Praga Khan for a techno album based on the game. It’s a testament to their skill, then, that what resulted not only became a surprise hit, but has endured as the definitive Mortal Kombat theme in all its incarnations. Techno Syndrome may be utilizing classic Belgian techno tropes to the nth degree, but it’s done so expertly, there’s not a Kombat soul alive that can resist its potent appeal. Heck, even the covers that emerged since, including the Utah Saints’ go at it on here, pales to the Immortals original.

Mortal Kombat wasn’t the first soundtrack at bringing metal, industrial, and techno together (Cool World has that honor, I believe), but definitely proved it could be commercially successful in doing so. Spawn, The Matrix, and many more ‘90s action movies followed its lead, an impressive legacy for something everyone was certain would fail.