EVERY GENRE PROJECT - November 15 - Horror Synth
Genre of the Day - Horror Synth 😱
Album of the Day - Lost Themes by John Carpenter (2015)
Just this morning, I was contemplating the fact that I am simply not predisposed to horror movies. To be frank, they’ve scared the bejesus out of me ever since I watched Late Night at Club Penguin as a child, which, looking back, features quite petrifying music. If this blog is any indicator, I dedicate a 100:1 ratio of my time to music over film. When I elect to watch a movie, I don’t often opt for horror. This personal choice makes me think of a quote that greets visitors as they enter into my beloved Denver Botanic Gardens: “You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen [...] because of that, I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.” I appreciate horror films as conceptual exercises, how they can turn the knife on our polite sensibilities and probe at darker human and societal instincts. The universe giggled as I clicked the button to generate a random genre for today and it gave me a genre that formed in origin due to its role backing the grisly and gloomy cinematography of horror.
With the right twisted musical mind behind the reels, any instrumental platform can help invoke sinister and dark sonic moods with dissonant and atonal sounds. The advent of synthesizers raised supernatural and terrifying textures to new heights and possibilities. Synths hadn’t quite made their debut in horror soundtracks in the 1970s, though composers had been weaving in the ghostly theremin for a few decades. Composers instead favored prog-rock’s evocative high drama (see: Zeuhl), contorting lullaby-esque melodies into omens as in Dario Argento’s work for Suspiria, or chilling, droning strings à la The Shining. As the decade turned, talented new composers emerged with a fascination for the looming atmospheres of synth pads and the unease of their mechanized arpeggios.
The aim of a horror film is to scare the audience—obviously. Horror synth humbly began as a last-resort effort to achieve that goal. Filmmaker John Carpenter refused to be dismayed at Halloween’s prospects after a test screening that failed to frighten the audience. Without the major-studio funds to enlist an orchestra, synthesizers proved their worth as great musical democratizer like yesterday's DIY-oriented freestyle. He bleeped and blooped out a score of his own making on Sequential’s Prophet 5, a rhythmically urgent frightfest that threatens to jump out of the speakers and plunge you into its time-ticking doom. Music can make or break the horror film’s scare factor, and Carpenter’s efforts paid off something in the range of $70 million grossed worldwide (adjusted for inflation). He created a blueprint for other composers to follow, and horror synth began to electrify ‘80s neon-coated scary flicks like Nightmare on Elm Street. Its influence also extended to Italian giallo, the iconic slasher genre, in films composed by Argento like Tenebre. Horror synth saw a 2010s revival as computer production apps gave bedroom producers the same DIY opportunity that synths had given Carpenter a few decades prior. This Internet wave of horror synth sped up its cinematic sound to meld it with darker yet danceable renditions of techno and synthwave.
John Carpenter built an imperial horror franchise off of the strength of horror synth, so who better to feature? His exploration hasn’t stopped at his soundtracks: in fact, he didn’t create the Halloween soundtrack in real-time synchronization to the actual picture. In recent years, he’s extended horror synth beyond the screen, delving deeper into its conceptual, innovative atmospheres. 2015’s Lost Tapes was his first in this series. The synth swells of “Vortex” surround and constrict the listener from the first few moments, spectral glimmers flashing above unsteadying piano and undulating arps in a multi-textural mini-suite that entrances as much as it unsettles. Touches as simple yet effective as the lack of satisfying resolution in the melody of “Obsidian” prove Carpenter’s ability to tease rich and unsettling sonority out of a few craftily layered parts. Some compositions here are more emblematic of nostalgia, harkening back to his ‘80s output like the glam guitar tone of “Domain,” whereas others speak to the human themes that horror so shrewdly explores like the moody, contemplative ambience of “Purgatory.” The unforgiving techno bass and vantablack-dark wall of sound built in “Night” end the project on a menacing note: the darkness lingers, even once the music ends. Always listen with one eye open.