2 out of 5

Label: Fonolith

Produced by: Neil Scrivin

There’s a less harsh review of this “imaginary re-interpretation” scoring of W.T. Kilgour’s book of the same name, which apparently chronicles the author’s time at a meteorological observatory, one that regards it as just electronic ambience, and allows that Scrivin’s gentle bleeps and hazy synths make for wholly acceptable background music. But even with that approach, this early effort from the composer – later remastered for release on Scrivin’s own Fonolith label – is, as that description suggests, pretty slight. And except for a couple of key tracks, rather without character. The score is approached from the outside (“I think this is music that would make sense here”) as opposed to something that feels intertwined with a narrative (“this scene makes more sense with this music”); and though Scrivin absolutely proves to have a great sense of pace and precision, allowing sections to repeat just enough to get the melody before letting a moment bow out, and never rushing the score along, it also feels very comparatively simple to later, more nuanced efforts. And, perhaps, Neil’s assortment of tech just wasn’t there, yet: while much can certainly be accomplished with little, that we stick to a range of SNES-sounding bleeps never quite syncs with how emotive I think the score is supposed to be.

Which is where I come back around to being harsh: if we’re assessing this as storytelling, which I am, it’s just not there. The music is unfortunately pretty slight, not conjuring much beyond being pleasant, and when emotions do occur – Adventures starts to include some darker elements; Mountaineers’ crackly opening feels purposefully off-kilter – it doesn’t seem in sync with the song titles, with Accidents and Troubles – Physical And Otherwise coming across as bouncily calm as anything else.

A more fleshed out world shows up in Storms and Winter & Summer Pastimes, both of these compositions varied, and more layered, and actually emoting something that conjures images matching their names. But elsewhere, between the lack of a distinct feeling per song, and also the lack of any real followable threads across the album, Twenty Years becomes, as mentioned, suitable background music, but not much more.

Having not heard the original, I can’t speak to the remaster versus that, but I do dig the recording, which applies a kind of analog rustle throughout (though I wish this was more purposefully applied, and not just like an overall filter), and allows Neil’s synths to feel both bright – crisp – and warm.