Thursday, October 12, 2017

WELCOME HOME, ROXY CARMICHAEL (1990)

One of the many aspects I love and find fascinating about movie music is how many genres it can pull from to craft a specific sound for a film and still make it all feel organic, musically. It could mean incorporating a particular exotic instrument from a distant corner of the globe, such as the duduk from Armenia, featured in Jerry Goldsmith's score for THE RUSSIA HOUSE, or the serpent, the ancient wind instrument utilized by Bernard Herrmann in his music for MYSTERIOUS ISLAND. It might also be a particular style of music and not just restricted to the orchestral arena, but instead mixing in elements of rock, funk, country or electronica that could inspire a composer. This latter influence became more prevalent from the 1960's and onward, to the extent that scores performed entirely on synthesizers became more accepted and commonplace by the late 70's and into the 80's, and not only for low budget horror movies.  This brings me to composer Thomas Newman, who's synth-pop influenced film scores of the 1980's really drew my attention. 

Thomas Newman is film music royalty. Not only has he maintained a steady stream of high profile work and is considered among the most talented and lauded composers in recent decades, but Thomas also is kin to one of the main musical architects of the art form, that being Alfred Newman, a titan of the industry. Thomas Newman introduced a unique sound and idiosyncratic approach to film scoring, right from his debut, which set a fresh standard primarily for dramas and indies - see THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and AMERICAN BEAUTY. His sound is now often imitated in a similar fashion as John Williams's sound is for space fantasy and Hans Zimmer's for action pictures. Check out Newman's opening piece for 1999's AMERICAN BEAUTY. Be amazed at how far-reaching its aural influence has been since its release, in movies, TV and reality shows, that sound of peculiar marimbas set against tablas, detuned guitars and mandolin. I imagine even Newman himself might have grown weary of hearing copycats in every corner.

Now, if we roll back the clock to 1985, it was the one-two punch of REAL GENIUS and THE MAN WITH ONE RED SHOE that made me a fan of Mr. Newman. Both movies are unequivocally representative of that flashy decade, a quality some might label as "dated", but I tend not to think of that as a negative. To me it simply means that they've become a sort of time capsule, even musically. At that time they would be considered current - electronic percussion and percolating synths all laced with jangly guitars in a style that melded well with vocal tracks sprinkled about, especially in REAL GENIUS. One can hear a synergy between the score and songs in this era, akin to how R&B and funk permeated movie music a decade earlier. As a side note, the fact that "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears For Fears closes out REAL GENUIS is probably why it became one of my favorite songs.

The downside of being a fan back then was that so little of Thomas Newman's music was being released on album. Also, for someone who mostly sought out film scores featuring a sprawling orchestral bent, I was surprised at how much Newman's sound connected with me. Other than owning some Duran Duran records, I didn't own much contemporary pop back then. Yet, it was Newman's use of guitars and synths that wound up influencing which indie/alternative bands I later followed, such as The Sundays, The Smiths, The Innocence Mission and Cocteau Twins. His music could be moody, reflective, then at turns both quirky and kinetic. It wasn't until 1990's WELCOME HOME, ROXY CARMICHAEL, a small-scale, forgotten drama featuring Winona Ryder and Jeff Daniels, that he finally received an album release all to himself, not sharing disc space with other artists or only getting one track. After catching the movie on HBO (it had cycled through cinemas pretty quickly), I was bowled over at finding the score in my local record store, picking it up on cassette, no less.

That was Summer 1991, same as my high school graduation and my initial stint as a busboy in a Mexican restaurant. Reflecting on it now, those three or so months between the end of high school and the start of college is kind of a sweet spot in life never again encountered. You're floating free from scholastic demands and expectations in both directions, nothing is yet weighing heavy on one's head, or at least mine felt unburdened. It was as if the next train carrying you further into life hadn't left the station yet, instead there was this respite allowing you time to mentally and emotionally unpack from those years, sort through it and then create space for the experiences that follow. Once you step foot onto that college campus as a freshman then you're on the way, pedal to the metal, forward motion has commenced and you're navigating that new terrain all while charting life beyond it. I'm not sure if I was aware of these thoughts that Summer, but I vaguely recall doing what I could to enjoy the brief pause before the "play" button was pressed again for the rest of my days.

Anyway, I brought that ROXY CARMICHAEL cassette into work with me on the day I purchased it. I placed it atop the ice machine in the wait station, the area where servers and bussers grabbed warm tortilla chips, watered-down salsa and soft drinks for the customers. Secretly I think I wanted someone to ask me about the cassette, just so I could share with them my fascination with movie music, especially seeing how this was kind of a contemporary title and sound. I remember how I was still getting accustomed to making friends outside of the school environment, figuring out what the hell do you talk about it if it's not homework, teachers and grades. One of the waiters spotted the cassette, noted the cover (same as the movie artwork seen at top left) and assumed it included some awesome bands. I of course exhaustively (for him) explained that it was actually the movie's score, there were no songs, no vocals included, all of which pretty soon made me into the "weird guy", the enigma on staff there. Oh well, everyone still respected my talents as a kick-ass busboy. And being considered weird there didn't result in any sort of ostracizing, instead it amazingly fostered closer friendships with co-workers.

There exists a wonderful variety in Newman's music for ROXY CARMICHAEL. It incorporates pop textures he'd displayed previously while embellishing this with his bourgeoning talents for purely orchestral tracks. The opening cue, "In A Closet", is led by a fragile, broken piano line, partnered with a plaintive saxophone, that's sweet yet sad. Thick guitars bring up the volume in "Little Black Bird". Heard elsewhere in subsequent tracks are nervous keyboard figures and quirky saxophones, sketching out succinct riffs. The climactic cue "Her Limousine" was always a standout, as it showcases a swelling string section that presages what would become Newman's primary sound a few years later, notably heard in THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. He excels at this - bringing an emotional component that cuts through you, but in an oblique fashion, not saccharine or too on-the-nose. His music is often gorgeous in an unassuming manner.

Listen below for a sample track from ROXY CARMICHAEL, along with a dreamy cue titled "Day Grave" from Thomas Newman's score for 1987's LESS THAN ZERO. The latter was only recently, and thankfully, released on disc from La-La Land Records and has remained on consistent rotation for me since then. I couldn't help but share it here in this post, as it's swathed in the 80's sonorities I find still so magnetic.