I wouldn’t say “scared the crap out of me”, but it WAS unsettling…the “Lament” on the original 1976 concept album of Evita (with Julie Covington and “C.T.”, later “Colm” Wilkinson).
This was the first version of the show I ever heard, following along with it in a published version of the London script with historical notes. (The London script, with a handful of exceptions, followed the original concept album pretty faithfully.)
The “Lament” is the last song in the album/show. Future staged versions have shortened it by about one verse and altered its ending, tacking on a short speech by Che about the fate of Eva’s corpse. But the version on the original concept album is very eerie indeed. Eva sings about the choices she made in life and her justification for them–would she have lived longer if she’d chosen an ordinary life?* Between the two verses there’s a mournful quote of her “ambition” theme on the flute. Then, after her last words, there’s a quiet brass phrase of “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” to symbolize her last breaths…a slight pause…and then the morticians, their voices echoing eerily, move in to begin preserving Eva’s body, singing a refrain to the same music Eva had been beautified to in “Rainbow High.” And silence. No huge “button”. No big finale. Just those ghoulish voices fading into silence.
The second time I listened to the album, I made the mistake of listening to that song at night with the lights off…and got a few chills. Nevertheless, I still think it’s the most effective version of the Evita finale I’ve ever heard, far more so than the staged version.
*A side note…I always scratched my head at the idea that Eva may have lived longer if she hadn’t chased after fame. If she was going to get cancer, wouldn’t she have gotten it even if she’d stayed in Junin all her life and married Pedro the tailor? She might even have died earlier due to poorer conditions, worse medical care, and a body weakened by a harder life.
Scared the jeebus outta me first time i listened to Music of the Gods, all this wonderful mellow instrumental gamelan and all of the sudden… A group of people is chanting at me. LOUDLY. At me! Very jarring musical transition.
Well, this one’s a bit tricky for me, as my personal “scare the crap out of you” standards seem to be a mite skewed, compared to other people.
I do have one, though, that I found by accident…or rather, created by accident.
I was messing around with a sound editor program one time, testing out some of the various filter features, using a random mp3 I had handy.
It turns out if you slow it down by about three times, and lower the pitch by about 500%…the Horst Wessel Lied sounds REALLY, terribly unsettling. (Moreso, anyway) Like the dead moan of an army of the damned—it immediately brought to mind Wayne Barlowe’s “The Wargate” from his Inferno.
I really outta remember put that on YouTube, sometime.
Thank you! I heard this a good thirty years ago on a program on KCET and was blown away with it. All I could recall was something about “Monkey dance”,but the title was not known to me. Thanks!
Screaming, terror and death in the face of fiery, incomprehensible annihilation. Expressed purely by means of a string soundscape.
Interestingly, the author intended this piece to be “just” an experiment in sound clusters and soundscapes, but later, when he actually heard it played by an ensamble, he was so overwhelmed by the emotional impact of what he had written that he gave it its current title.
So now I finally know what H.P. Lovecraft was imagining when he wrote “The Music of Erich Zann” in 1921:
It would be useless to describe the playing of Erich Zann on that dreadful night. It was more horrible than anything I had ever overheard, because I could now see the expression of his face, and could realize that this time the motive was stark fear. He was trying to make a noise; to ward something off or drown something out—what, I could not imagine, awesome though I felt it must be.
Came here to mention that one. Always liked how it kicks off with that primal percussion (wouldn’t be least surprised if early Buttholes sampled it), and then the weird scraping sound, (ultra slow pick-scrape with effects?) (like trying to simulate a creaking door, or something being opened), and then that awesomely atonal guitar chord.
also:
Arthur Honegger’s Pacific 231 has always filled me with a blood-curdling sense of evil empowerment, reigning down on all to suffer. Actually I like how this piece builds ominous momentum like a locomotive very gradually building up full steam ahead. There’s parts in this that made me wonder if it might have been at least some inspiration for Raymond Scott’s “Powerhouse”, which came out only 14 years later, in 1937.
The fun starts around1:55.
For listening to something that would sound good if you were by yourself in a very old, large, unfamiliar house in the middle of the woods at night with all the lights off, I’d highly recommend Bartok’s (so much to choose from!) Adagio.
Best appreciated cranked, with as little external sounds as possible. [Hopefully you can weather out the (I thought) overly-long near-silent passages, to get to the good shit.] At 2:44 should be *verrrrrry *familiar:p and awesome nightmarish flourish building at 3:44. Couldn’t ask for a more perfect visual, too, to vege out on, for this.
Heh and speaking of another possible influence for Powerhouse (which btw, came out only a year after 231), check out 4:42 - 4:47.
Normally not considered a scary number, Leaning on Everlasting Arms most definitely is, in this instance.
If I ever hear it again (anywhere else - doubtful) I sure won’t be all kumbaya about it.
This. Absolutely. When the instructor played this for an Intro To Music History class, it was possibly the single most disturbing piece of instrumental music I’d ever heard and still is.
I’ve mentioned this before but the late, late show (which was almost always a scary movie) used The Syncopated Clock as its theme and that music still sends shivers down my spine when I hear it. How is that for random?
I chalk it up to the creepy sound effects, that almost archetypal guitar riff, and the fact that I first heard it when I went with my family to check out a house we were considering buying/renting. A rather isolated, lonely old two story place hidden in the thick of a Northern California redwood forest.
And that may have been haunted, stemming from a previous resident committing suicide after going insane one night, running outside, and throwing himself in front of a truck traveling along the winding country road that passed nearby.
:eek:
P.S.: I am really, really surprised that Diamanda Galas hasn’t shown up in this thread, yet.
I went through a phase of finding most of the White Album seriously creepy. This came shortly after I read “Helter Skelter” for the first time at age 12, right around the time my mother and I moved to a quite isolated house.
I’ll second Ligeti’s Requiem, which is, to me, the sound of pure metaphysical terror from start to finish. Well, there might be some fragile glimmer of… not hope but dead-eyed acceptance towards the very end perhaps. A terrific piece that packs quite a punch and isn’t that difficult to follow as far as post WWII classical music goes.
My second choice is Scriabin’s Piano Sonata No. 6, especially that recurring motif, appearing first here between 0:27 and 0:32. That’s the music of nightmares. When I hear it, I always picture someone’s face melting, or a mask slipping slowly to reveal a disfigured face. As a matter of fact, it seems that Scriabin himself, ever the weirdo, was terrified of it:
*The mood of the piece is marked “mystérieux” by the composer, but most striking are the sudden moments of horror that interrupt its dreamlike atmosphere, explicitly marked “l’épouvante surgit” (surge of terror) by Scriabin…
According to Scriabin’s biographer, Faubion Bowers, “The Sixth Sonata is a netherstar. Its dark and evil aspect embraces horror, terror, and the omnipresent Unknown. ‘Only my music expresses the inexpressible,’ Scriabin boasted, and called the Sixth’s sweet and harsh harmonies, “nightmarish… fuliginous… murky… dark and hidden… unclean… mischievous.’ When he played excerpts for friends, he would stare off in the distance away from the piano, as if watching effluvium rise from the floor and walls around him. He seemed frightened and sometimes shuddered.*
His Poème-Nocturne is really creepy, too, especially the passages marked “comme une ombre mouvante” (like a moving shadow). It’s like catching a glimpse of a ghost from the corner of your eye.
Came here to post this. When I was a teenager we set up a haunted house (in my parent’s house) for Halloween, and I was in charge of the music and used this piece (alternating with Atmospheres). Basically kids would walk up, shout “Trick or treat”, and be confronted with a darkened doorway (lit by black lights) with this music blaring. We had so many kids just scream and run off without even coming inside. Hilarious. Ended up having to switch to “Monster Mash” after about 15 minutes of this.
