Tuesday, 26 April 2022

Max Richter - The Blue Notebooks


Max Richter is prolific to a fault. In recent years he has been releasing records faster than anybody could possibly keep up with, particularly film scores and soundtracks. I've forced myself to stop buying so many of his records because I don't feel like I've really even spent enough time with some of the ones I bought years ago, let alone any new ones. Not all of them have been money well spent (more on that another time), but I still seem to keep thinking about buying more. But it wasn't always like that. Not all that long ago he released standalone albums that weren't held together by a narrative or very obvious theme; The Blue Notebooks is one such album.

Compared to his more recent, non-soundtrack releases, The Blue Notebooks feels like an anomaly, but it's the lack of over-bearing theme that makes it so enjoyable. The songs play like just songs that happen to have been written at a similar time and in a similar way; it's something you'd think nothing of from a rock or pop album, but when you think about it alongside Sleep or Voices or Woolf Works or Vivaldi Recomposed it feels a world apart. Without the weight of a theme, it feels light, which is saying something for the album that spawned On the Nature of Daylight, a song that would carve a life outside of Max's career. It's an incredible song, and worthy of all the praise it gets (and the presence of two versions on this album, and countless other slight variations and re-recordings). Shadow Journal shouldn't be overlooked though, as it probably does a better job of representing what Max's early output sounded like - minimal, electronic but with a cutting and memorable violin. Organum is lovely and The Trees is the other highlight - more soaring violins and melancholy pianos. The build up breaks before it has a chance to explode in a Godspeed or Mogwai or EITS manner, which reminds me more of Low, a band who've often pushed songs to that same point just before they explode/implode. I'm sure there's a wealth of classical influences that a more learned person would be able to reel off here, but I'll have to stick with my rock references.

I bought this copy one Saturday afternoon in Truck Store, along with the second Talons album (a post-rock band with two violinists, so two albums with more in common than you'd assume on paper). I'd often stroll down there on a Saturday afternoon and around that time they always had a cracking box of records labelled "post-rock / neo-classical / noise" and some of the best (non-Jason Molina) records I bought in that shop came from there. It was my fifth Richter album in four years, having been introduced to him on Infra. This is the 2015 reissue, so ten years after the original release and not long after Max's huge increase in recorded output. But I didn't know all of that, I just thought it was another nice neo-classical record to play. Whilst the vinyl is 180 grams, there's a huge amount of crackling on my copy during the first recording of On the Nature of Daylight, but it's far from the only version I have of that song, so I'm not too worried.

Format: 12"
Tracks: 12
Cost: £21 new
Bought: Truck Store, Oxford
When: 15/08/15
Colour: Black
Etching: none
mp3s: Download





Saturday, 16 April 2022

Nine Inch Nails - Quake

Around 2000 or 2001 I bought a Sega Saturn. By this point, it was already considered a failed console, a slight oddity of the generation between the classic cartridge eras and the huge success of the PlayStation and Nintendo 64. A friend who I'd spent a lot of time playing Goldeneye with had discovered drugs and was already selling off all his possessions to buy weed; he asked if I wanted to buy his Sega Saturn and six games for a fairly measly sum - I can't remember how much, but I want to say £30. I wasn't a huge gamer, but enjoyed my N64 enough to think I should try another console. In amongst the games included were Quake, Alien Trilogy, a futuristic racing game that I didn't enjoy as much as F-Zero X, and Loaded, the game that introduced me to Pop Will Eat Itself (who themselves eventually crossed paths with NIN near the end of their career, and at the start of Clint Mansell's incredible film-scoring era. I wonder if he and Trent ever chatted about the Quake soundtrack).

Anyway, I found almost all of the games on the Sega Saturn incredibly hard to play, and Quake was particularly disappointing since the graphics were so basic compared to what I'd grown up used to on Goldeneye (which I'm sure looks beyond shit to anyone playing games now). I'd heard so much about what a landmark game Quake was that I had very high expectations, but couldn't progress in it very far because I was so bad at it, something I attributed to the crappy graphics, but was much more likely related to my skill level. However, I knew that Trent Reznor had done the soundtrack, and I remember hearing these haunted, sparse but sufficiently industrial soundscapes and thinking they were cool. The great thing about Sega Saturn games was that you could put the cd in your cd player, skip the game data on track 1 and play the rest of the soundtrack as an audio cd - that was how I heard Pop Will Eat Itself, and where I first heard all these songs (I honestly was so bad at the game I probably heard at most three of them whilst actually playing the game).

Fast forward 20 years, and I was stood in my kitchen having just got my children to bed when I saw on Twitter (or possibly an email) that NIN were putting out the Quake soundtrack on vinyl as well as reissuing With Teeth (one of my favourite NIN albums), and The Social Network soundtrack (which I didn't buy - I think collecting all the soundtracks that Trent Reznor has done is a rabbit-hole too far). I immediately ordered Quake and With Teeth and they turned up amazingly soon afterwards. They'd done such a great job with the previous reissues, with such attention to detail and care that I was keen for more.

The Quake soundtrack is no exception to this rule. The ten songs are spread across three sides of vinyl and the fourth is etched with some lines of what I think are C++ relating to the songs in the game code (there's a line that looks like a comment starting with // which I think is C++, although I've never dared to try to use that language myself). It's basically impossible to photograph, so you'll just have to believe me on that. There was due to be a nice booklet containing details of the recording like in their other reissues, but I think a legal dispute meant it couldn't be published, although Trent leaked it on the internet as he is known to do. The Quake logo on the sleeve is embossed, although my favourite detail might be the images of the blocky off-white CRT monitor on the inner sleeves. It's funny how something once so prevalent now looks so dated.

It's probably fair to say that about 20 years passed between me hearing the songs on my Sega Saturn cd and getting this vinyl. I would have played them a few times back in the day, but nowhere near as much as I played The Downward Spiral or Broken or The Fragile. I went off to university and the Sega Saturn spent a good few years sat in a cupboard at my parents' house. Eventually I told my brother he could have it, but I have no idea how much he played it. He is a much better gamer than me, so I like to think he heard more of the soundtrack in its natural habitat than I ever did, but I don't know for sure. When the vinyl got released, I asked him to dig out the cd so I could make a copy of the mp3s, something that had never crossed my mind in the years in between. I still don't listen to these songs often, but when I'm in the mood for instrumental Trent Reznor songs, they often fill the void nicely (it's a very heavily populated genre of music, and the pandemic-released Ghosts albums have become my go-to listens).

Often here very little happens, but the mood is set perfectly. I find it hard to think that people could genuinely have found the gameplay scary, since the graphics were what they were, but I guess expectations were lower. However, this music is thoroughly haunting in isolation, so perhaps it was exactly what the game needed. It's funny to think of 1996-era Nine Inch Nails creating this soundtrack having no idea that Trent would go on to become one of Hollywood's biggest film-score composers. It's nice to hear the beginning of that arc, and how established the style already was.

Format: Double 12", picture sleeves, gatefold
Tracks: 10
Cost: £44
Bought: Nine Inch Nails website
When: 19/09/2020
Colour: Black
Etching: lines of code on side D
mp3s: None