I have a theory regarding ardent movie music fans and collectors, those deep in the folds, and that is the eventual habit of "buying blind". Once your "listening wagon" is hitched to specific composers, purchasing soundtrack albums without having seen the movie or TV show it accompanies becomes the norm. No different than an R.E.M. fan who picked up all of their records without first hearing a track. I reached this stage in 1988 at fifteen years old. Considering my meager earnings then, when the part-time jobs consisted of mowing lawns
and teaching swim lessons to kids at the YMCA, these blind buys posed some risks. I couldn't just grab every album that appeared intriguing. I couldn't afford to see each new movie that featured music by a favorite composer. Dollars earned versus dollars spent proved to be quite a balancing act. And in that year, the motto of "two outta three ain't bad" applied to this early experience.
When Summer school break began in '88 this changed for me. I started getting paid to mow lawns, both our own and the neighbors'. In addition, I was hired at the local YMCA, where I competed on swim team, to teach swim lessons to kids under ten. To be honest, my dad managed that YMCA, as he did in whichever town we lived, so I didn't face much of a rigorous interview process, due to being the boss' son. The downside was that being the boss' son meant I couldn't really suck at the job and remain invisible.
Now, mowing lawns can be a strangely enjoyable Zen activity,
sort of how I find washing dishes or vacuuming. I put my gangly limbs to work and soon viewed the in-arguably successful results after a few hours. However, the prospect of teaching small children to swim and survive in the water carried with it more pressure and expectation, not the least of which was keeping their tiny faces above the water. I wasn't sure I could manage it. Swim team competition bolstered confidence in my own aqua-abilities, but I was less positive about my ability to impart the necessary strokes to kindergarten kids. Nevertheless, I accepted the job, aiming to justify my dad's assuredeness in
me along with finally earning disposable income.
So, I'd had my collecting eye on several recently released albums with the label "Music by James Horner" printed on their respective covers. Since being captivated by his music for STAR TREKs II and III and ALIENS, I decided to unquestioningly pick up whatever soundtracks featured his name (money willing, of course). First up, I noticed his credit in small print on the posters for WILLOW, a movie set to be released that Summer. It purported to be an epic fantasy adventure, starring the fresh-from-TOP-GUN Val Kilmer and written and produced by George Lucas. Granted, I could've bouught a ticket to see the movie itself in the theater. Instead my grass-fed and water-logged cash went to the soundtrack, on cassette no less. My "listening wagon" had been securely hitched to Horner. It was more important to hear new music from him, hopefully in the same vein as the aforementioned scores.
WILLOW emerged as an immediate favorite of mine, that opaque cassette looping its way repeatedly through my scuffed red Walkman, the notes tattooing themselves onto my musical memory. It showcased a lilting choral element, heraldic brass themes and exciting, adventuresome set-pieces, everything I hoped for from a score in this genre. Yes, I was left to imagine the matching onscreen action, gleaning details from pictures and articles in magazines, but it mattered little, the music was its own reward. Months later, I actually received the movie on VHS as a birthday gift from my parents, an impressive feat when one considers how expensive first-run home videos were priced back then. Trust me, it wasn't cheap. And yeah, I kinda liked the movie too. Kilmer ported over his smart-ass and smart-alack persona from REAL GENIUS and TOP GUN, flavored with a dose of swordplay.
The second Horner soundtrack blind buy was from the animated film called THE LAND BEFORE TIME, released in November that same year. It was only his second animated feature, the first being 1986's AN AMERICAN TAIL, resulting in an Oscar nomination for the rising composer. I'd seen this latter album on the record racks, but it looked to feature too many songs and not enough score, so I hesitated to purchase it. However, THE LAND BEFORE TIME included only one song (by Diana Ross) listed among the tracks thus I felt secure I'd get my money's worth in a wealth of Horner's orchestral music. Upon the initial listen, I decreed it another home run - a surprisingly expressive and powerful work, memorable and in the mold of Prokofiev's "Peter and The Wolf" concert ballet. The man could do no wrong in my early estimation as a developing movie music fan. But to this day, I still haven't seen this movie.
The third blind buy happened in December. Unfortunately, I felt as if my listening wagon had struck a speed bump, a speed bump entitled RED HEAT. I'm not sure what kind of score I expected for an action thriller starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and James Belushi, but a jazz/funk/synth fusion didn't occur to me in the slightest. I could only shake my head confusedly as I heard music so diametrically opposed to WILLOW. Only afterwards as I eventually worked backwards through Horner's career did I discover that this style emerged first in the films 48 HOURS, GORKY PARK and COMMANDO. At that time, I couldn't see past large-scale orchestral compositions, my tastes and interest didn't allow for much beyond it. I kicked myself for a failed blind buy, glumly realizing that not everything composed by James Horner hit my movie music sweet spot.
Yet it didn't diminish his star status for me. Weirdly, I grew to love the moody RED HEAT and all its wailing sax solos, just not as much as those previous two '88 Horner scores. Why place expectations that a new experience can only be good if it mirrors what's already happened? RED HEAT never intended to be WILLOW, so why even compare the two. Interestingly, WILLOW and THE LAND BEFORE TIME were later eclipsed once I
was introduced to the James Horner magnum opus that is 1983's KRULL. That one still
ranks as my overall top favorite from his entire output, it's a god-damn powerhouse. Anyway, appreciating the broad range of a film composer gained momentum here and I feel I owe a slow clap for the red-headed stepchild that is RED HEAT. Soundtracks to movies yet unseen continued to stack up near my stereo, so obviously I was undeterred.
Regarding my time teaching swimming, after six weeks all the kids in my class successfully passed their final hurdle, jumping into the deep end wearing floaties and paddling out to me. I recall not being able to visualize that last day on my first day. I never thought I'd remember everyone's name, yet I did. Each small stepping stone of just having them blow bubbles in the water or kick their legs really constructed a path to that deep-end achievement. No step could be skipped, there was no rushing into eight feet of water for them. As the kids garnered these skills I learned how to shepherd a group and methodically and patiently bestow knowledge I possessed. Funny enough, my current job of training software to media buying agency groups can feel like teaching at a public pool populated with restless six year olds whom I have to corral. Tell that to my fifteen year old self!
Initially for spending cash I solely relied on the small allowance from my dad, which amounted to around four dollars every other week. Of course, this can be a fairly typical scenario for teens both past and present, though I bet inflation has now adjusted that amount upward somewhat. The result is muddling through the character building exercises of waiting and saving funds, possibly the financial equivalent of eating your vegetables at dinner. At the age of fifteen, patience and pinching pennies could be akin to brussel sprouts.
When Summer school break began in '88 this changed for me. I started getting paid to mow lawns, both our own and the neighbors'. In addition, I was hired at the local YMCA, where I competed on swim team, to teach swim lessons to kids under ten. To be honest, my dad managed that YMCA, as he did in whichever town we lived, so I didn't face much of a rigorous interview process, due to being the boss' son. The downside was that being the boss' son meant I couldn't really suck at the job and remain invisible.
So, I'd had my collecting eye on several recently released albums with the label "Music by James Horner" printed on their respective covers. Since being captivated by his music for STAR TREKs II and III and ALIENS, I decided to unquestioningly pick up whatever soundtracks featured his name (money willing, of course). First up, I noticed his credit in small print on the posters for WILLOW, a movie set to be released that Summer. It purported to be an epic fantasy adventure, starring the fresh-from-TOP-GUN Val Kilmer and written and produced by George Lucas. Granted, I could've bouught a ticket to see the movie itself in the theater. Instead my grass-fed and water-logged cash went to the soundtrack, on cassette no less. My "listening wagon" had been securely hitched to Horner. It was more important to hear new music from him, hopefully in the same vein as the aforementioned scores.
WILLOW emerged as an immediate favorite of mine, that opaque cassette looping its way repeatedly through my scuffed red Walkman, the notes tattooing themselves onto my musical memory. It showcased a lilting choral element, heraldic brass themes and exciting, adventuresome set-pieces, everything I hoped for from a score in this genre. Yes, I was left to imagine the matching onscreen action, gleaning details from pictures and articles in magazines, but it mattered little, the music was its own reward. Months later, I actually received the movie on VHS as a birthday gift from my parents, an impressive feat when one considers how expensive first-run home videos were priced back then. Trust me, it wasn't cheap. And yeah, I kinda liked the movie too. Kilmer ported over his smart-ass and smart-alack persona from REAL GENIUS and TOP GUN, flavored with a dose of swordplay.
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