Long before electronic music was almost exclusively made for the riff-raff of dance culture, electronic music was exclusively made for the hoity-toity upper elites of culture. True, only higher class brackets were capable of affording synthesizers at the time, so naturally only classically trained composers did much of anything with the gear. Shortly after the ‘70s took hold though, the commons clued into the catchy potential of electronic music too, and some charming compositions began charting in record sales. Well, if they’re enjoying these camp pieces, scoffed the elite, they’ll undoubtedly lap up the fromage of the classics too. Thus they set out a Japanese robot dubbed Tomita to placate the masses with synthesized interpretations of Stravinsky, Holst, Strauss, and Bach.
Right, the specific details above are mostly the bunk (probably), but if anyone greatly benefited from Wendy Carlos and Rick Wakeman proving you could do classical music with electronics, it was ol' Isao. By the time he released Kosmos, he'd gained a reputation as the foremost modern classical interpreter about, folks always anticipating which master of the past he'd tackle next.
Did I mention sci-fi was a big deal in the '70s? What better way to give the fans what they wanted – and maybe even lure in a few who’d yet to discover the Japanese synth maestro – than opening Kosmos with a quirky, charming cover of John Williams’ Star Wars Main Title? It’s… um, well, it’s… Star Wars? Kinda bloopy, with a whistle instead of the opening fanfare; surprising amount of bouncy rhythm for the time too. Y’know, when you think of chintzy, made-for-TV sci-fi pulp from that decade, this is the music you’re likely imagining soundtracking it. Follow-up Space Fantasy borrows from Strauss’ Also sprach Zarathustra and various Wagner compositions, most notably Ride Of The Valkyries and Tannhäuser, though whenever I hear the latter, I almost immediately think of Bugs Bunny riding an obese white horse rather than space opera. Also, Kosmos has quickly turned incredibly camp with such music.
Fortunately, things get more interesting with the following songs. The Unanswered Question from Charles Ives goes ambient, mysterious, and with a touch of mechanical menace lurking. Rodrigo’s Aranjuez-Adagio is soaring and gorgeous, especially with the synths Tomita utilizes here, and Solveig’s Song’s from Edvard Grieg’s no slouch either, Tomita cleverly playing a portion of the campy bit through a filter as though it’s a transmission from deep space.
The highlight of Kosmos is the final track though, J.S. Bach’s The Sea Named “Solaris”; heck, it was a highlight on Carl Sagan’s Cosmos too! Yes, finally, at the end of this review, I come clean about my primary reason for getting this album. Look, I was starting a Tomita collection eventually, and it may as well be the album holding the song I’m most familiar with by him. If you haven’t heard The Sea Named “Solaris” yet, get on that shit, brah! Absolutely essential modern classical! Kosmos ain’t too bad either, once you get past the corny first bits.
