Let me take you back to 1969 (not the song by The Stooges, mind you). It was a time of change and new developments. A young med school student by name of Michael Crichton put together a novel called
The Andromeda Strain; it would propel him to fame and a successful career as a novelist. In 1971, a movie based on
The Andromeda Strain was released, the film becoming a staple in my household since before I was born. I remember growing up watching in fright or perhaps fascination of germs from outer space; I blame this movie for my ongoing odd dreams of laboratories and obsession with strange diseases and organisms. I suppose I can also blame it for laying the foundations for my interest in experimental music since the soundtrack was one of the earliest completely electronic scores in motion picture history.
Bear in mind the era we are discussing. Most household electronics we grew up with were unheard of. Computers were the size of your average house. There were no Casios in the discount bin at Toys R’ Us with which to play around and make odd noises. If you wanted to play a synthesizer keyboard, you had to either find one made by various fledgling manufacturers, or build one yourself. This was the time for the likes of Bob Moog and Wendy Carlos to gain a certain measure of fame for being pioneers of the construction and usage of electronic instruments. Among the names listed as early adopters of electronic music was Gil Mellé. Known for both his jazz music and film and television scores, he was selected to compose the soundtrack to
The Andromeda Strain.
Mellé’s experimental minimal composition is the perfect complement to the unsettling implications of what is seen onscreen. The unearthly notes cascading from Mellé’s home-built synthesizer develop a sense of unease in the listener. The sounds I’m hearing create a sensation like the seizures character Dr. Leavitt experiences several times onscreen. Blindly staring out, brain functioning not as it is should. This is the music that has been echoing back and forth across my pathetic human synapses since childhood. Mom and Dad asleep on the couch (a common occurrence with this film), my youthful eyes staring at the screen and finding the weird noises infinitely more fascinating than the words I was hearing, despite the immediate and lasting association with the Odd Man Hypothesis long before I understood what it meant. For a while, I was a fan of electronic music; then, I shifted and had an open hatred of many varieties of electronic music. Dredging this soundtrack from the depths of memory brings me back full circle; I
need a synthesizer.
I have one mere complaint with
The Andromeda Strain Original Soundtrack: it’s too bloody short. The movie runs 130 minutes, but the soundtrack runs a scant 25:41. The same two-minute tunes are reused over and over throughout the film, but I have no problem with the repetition. Strikes me as economical, actually. It also builds a familiarity of a sort, the only thing being familiar is the fear and shock of our characters every time they make some portentous discovery about the organism at hand, or when said bug does something unexpected. However, for a separate release, I feel like I need more. Call me greedy, a devouring spirit not unlike a music-munching Cthulhu or tune-snacking Cookie Monster. But, to be fair, what was made is damn amazing regardless of how much of it there is.
Let us flash forward from 1971 to 1996 and the release of :Zoviet*
France:’s
Digilogue. The first three minutes of the opening track “Alchemagenta” come off like a spirit brother to
The Andromeda Strain soundtrack. Echoes from the past showing their influence, I suppose. If there were not people such as Gil Mellé playing around with analog circuitry, we most likely would not have many of our experimental bands today.
If you’re a fan of experimental, electronic, and ambient music, then I heartily recommend this, if you can find it. My understanding was that the soundtrack album was only released in 1971 on vinyl in two separate (and extremely limited) editions: one was printed on a hexagonal record in a hexagonal folding sleeve, and a standard-size record in a standard square sleeve. Both editions have been long out of print and fetch a pretty penny (Amazon Marketplace sellers want 150 USD for the round LP and 200 USD for the hexagonal). However, someone, somewhere, must have the rights to this music, because it’s issued on CD and for sale for 19.95 USD at Monsters In Motion. So, should you only have a fraction of what it would cost to purchase this soundtrack on vinyl, you can at least have it on CD.
* Admitted, 20 bucks is a bit steep considering the running time, but consider it bragging rights to show off your knowledge of experimental scores.
Pictures nabbed and resized from Bongolong Land
Buy it on CD at
Monsters In MotionSpecial thanks to Frank (
systemsofromance.blogspot.com) for introducing me to :Zoviet*France: and thus stirring the liquid brainmush and forcing up something from my past.
*Or, you could just use the rapidshare link on Bongolong Land. Take your pick; makes no difference to me.
Let me take you back to 1969 (not the song by The Stooges, mind you). It was a time of change and new developments. A young med school student by name of Michael Crichton put together a novel called The Andromeda Strain; it would propel him to fame and a successful career as a novelist. In 1971, a movie based on The Andromeda Strain was released, the film becoming a staple in my household since before I was born. I remember growing up watching in fright or perhaps fascination of germs from outer space; I blame this movie for my ongoing odd dreams of laboratories and obsession with strange diseases and organisms. I suppose I can also blame it for laying the foundations for my interest in experimental music since the soundtrack was one of the earliest completely electronic scores in motion picture history.
