Sci-Fi TV CD Reviews
by Jeff Bond and Jesus Weinstein
Seven Days ** 1/2
SCOTT GILMAN
GNP/Crescendo GNPD 8060
30 tracks - 60:44
Seven Days is part of a crop of sci fi action shows deployed
by Paramount's UPN network in order to lock down the beachhead on Wednesday
nights established by Star Trek Voyager. The pre-Voyager post
was previously held down by The Sentinel, a show which has since
been relegated to reruns on The Sci Fi Channel. I give Seven Days
another season before it can look forward to its own Sci Fi Channel block.
This show actually debuted strongly, but like everything else on UPN, has
been gradually hemorrhaging its viewership over the past year. The program
follows Jonathan LaPaglia as a hunky government time-traveler who goes
back in time seven days every week in order to avert a different worldwide
catastrophe.
The music featured on this album is composed and performed by Scott
Gilman--which means it's keyboards and samples time. LaPaglia's vaguely
military mission is reinforced by an almost constant use of snare drums
(or more probably, the "snare drum" key on whatever synthesizer
Gilman is using) in the underscore, most of which is otherwise dominated
by a pulsating, manic techno sensibility spiced up with judicious (and
economical) use of more traditional soundtrack effects like staccato piano
playing and discordant faux string chords. Gilman's title theme is smart
and heroic, but it's part of a cuisinart mix of sounds, techno-percussion,
glitzy tonal washes and narration that obscure the simple effectiveness
of the melody.
The album contains three score suites, from the episodes "Vows,"
"Come Again" and "EBE's." "Vows" is relentlessly
militaristic, so by the time the elegiac tonality of the final cue ("The
Wedding") rolls around it's like a dose of Excedrin after a painful
migraine. "Come Again" is less overbearing, but still rhythmically-driven
and suspenseful, with some droll rock elements ("I Need aValium");
"EBE's" picks up an Eric Serra-like Eastern vibe while often
wandering into a distinctly Mark Snow X-Files area with its shrieking,
thick keyboard sting chords and sampled aleatoric orchestral effects. As
this episode score progressed I began to feel more and more like I was
at a Bauhaus concert but no one was singing. This is the new wave of TV
& movie scoring, but the constant percussion progressions and hyper-kinetic
sound mix often makes this stuff sound much more like trailer music than
dramatic writing.
--Jeff Bond
Crusade ** 1/2
EVAN H. CHEN
Sonic Images 828-278-910-2
16 tracks - 68:14
The synth music of Crusade is certainly more atonal than what
one might find in the average television show. Evan H. Chen is able to
sustain a degree of harmonic interest, but he does so through an uncomfortable,
labored atonality. Atonality doesn't exist simply to alleviate the pressures
of having to conform to expected tonal resolutions. It requires structure
of its own in order to hold up as music. Chen's atonality sounds out of
control (as in "Invasion") all too often. His synthesized sounds
don't help the issue, as tonal lines are hard enough to follow on sweeping,
swelling patches.
The synths (and melodic writing style) of Crusade conjure up
Showtime's dreadful Outer Limits music. Though the drones are hypnotic
(which can be confused with boring), the percussion is so washed in reverb
that it loses most of its edge. One of the general problems with Chen's
sound is that there's nothing sharp enough to break up the soft monotony
of the synth patches. These ethereal textures (as in "Hyperspace")
would have been helped immeasurably by the addition of but one or two acoustic
instruments--not to mention live percussion. The real vocals of "Rainbow"
and the baby giggles in "My Way" are the highlights of this album.
There's very little rhythmic interest to bolster the poor sounds (except
in the rhythm section itself)--another trademark problem almost inherent
in synth writing. The pieces driven by rhythmic devices (like sections
of "Future Pleasure" or "Mars Dance") hold up better
than the rest.
This is not a CD designed to be listened to from start to finish. It's
long and the sounds are overbearing even before their constant repetition
becomes evident. But despite the limitations of Chen's synthesizers, he
shows some promise with Crusade. There are several competent, fake piano-driven
action interludes in "Galen's Wrath," and the synthesized sighs,
whale-like noises, and crystalline textures of "Sorrow" stand
above the other drone sections.
Chen is as limited by his synthesizers as is the next man, but he also
needs to work on clarifying his atonal vocabulary--especially if he's writing
for a medium where he is supposed to get his point across within a given
time frame and be done with it (without requiring repeat listenings). On
a brighter note, Chen's moving liner notes thanks scores of people for
their artistic guidance.
--Jesus Weinstein
MailBag@filmscoremonthly.com
| 
