from Art Zoyd - Faust (1995)

 

After their days of chamber-prog to watch cities burn down to the ground to (so you might want to keep those records handy these days), Art Zoyd progressively (or 'regressively', to be precise) stopped letting their music speak for itself (which it did before, with remarkable dramatic acuity, without any need for captions or visual aids) and began sidelining it to a supporting role, as mere accompaniment to grander productions - the sort that can bring a vaster audience your way, perhaps with no specific interest in your music (so, really, why bother continuing to work at it as much), but with a sure taste for 'events', the bigger the better. 

This soundtrack to Murnau's Faust (1926), designed to be performed live accompanying screenings of the film, is one example of that. Make no mistake, I would attend that venue; not only since any excuse to re-watch the film on the big screen would always do, but because Murnau's masterpiece would surely have no trouble in carrying the music along (rather than the other way round), and lend it some of the life, imagination, and pathos it lacks. 

In itself, though, this is a typical product from Art Zoyd's multimedia days (at least their subsequent modern classical days could be a bit more challenging): minor key atmospheres that go nowhere, failing to stand on their own without a silent movie being projected in the background, or a light show to distract you from the absence of musical colours other than synthesizer grey. 

Yet, as the Zoyds themselves could still occasionally prove, even according it a functional, subordinate role, the music really needn't be so stale. "Gates of Darkness 2", for instance, still manages to pick up on that Zoydian state of emergency vibe, with their trademark rumbling bass lines ushering panicked masses to the catacombs. 

Obviously, even that doesn't bring anything new to the table, but when what you're offered going forward is essentially defined by the absence of what was once there, it's inevitable to appreciate more whatever remnants of a crumbling past we can still get.