The Outer Limits (1963～1964)＜限定盤＞

Back in the early 1990s, when GNP Crescendo issued a single-CD release containing music from the first season of The Outer Limits (1963-1964), it seemed like a gift from heaven; even people who didn't like science fiction, but chanced to see the program, were frequently impressed by its music, composed and conducted in that first season by Dominic Frontiere, and though there was no soundtrack album issued on the show when it was in production, the music endured across the decades, reused by Frontiere and tracked into properties as different as the religious anthology series Insight and movies such as the John Wayne vehicle Chisum. And now comes this triple-CD set from La-La Land Records, which encompasses everything on the GNP disc and a lot more. Listening to the three hours of material here, drawn from specific shows in the first season, one realizes that Frontiere was often working like an opera composer, and as deeply as the best in that field, his music not only underscored the script and dialogue and acting, but got inside the meanings of everything on the screen. Moments of "The Man Who Was Never Born" and, to a lesser degree, "The Human Factor," seem to cry out for vocal writing that could transform them into full-blown operas. And even on some of the less ambitious suites here, one has to marvel at Frontiere's extraordinary use of instrumental timbre for effect, and his execution thereof. For "ZZZZZ" (a story about a mutant bee), he starts off in Rimsky-Korsakov territory but transcends it in establishing his own musical dialogue. Of course, one reason that this music all works so well here is that it was composed and recorded with the intent that it would register with audiences hearing it through (mostly) three-inch speakers on the television sets in use in 1963-1964, going across airwaves for which notions of stereo and digital clarity were as alien as, well, men from Mars. So experiencing the fully exposed raw tracks, presented in 21st century playback, is roughly the equivalent of sonic mainlining. It's overpowering on the first or second listen, and parts of it even on the third or beyond. But as one listens to the material broken down as raw music, one can also appreciate how little -- except for his own imagination and cleverness -- Frontiere was working with at times to achieve his goal. "Controlled Experiment," for example, has some of the most sublimely beautiful music for harp that one can hear this side of Debussy or Ravel, and then proceeds to transform that same material into something twisted and scary and funny, all at once. The sound is a little compressed by 21st century standards, but that's par for the course. The music is as fine as the work of such celebrated composers as Bernard Herrmann or David Raksin, and treated here with a dignity and thoroughness (including a superbly annotated booklet) that is rare for television music. ~ Bruce Eder|