Published on Jan 28, 2002
In my head, there is the most basic of an outline for a
screenplay I could write if I found the time – you know, one that
Roger Ebert would piss all over for being formulatic, but one which
audiences would probably love despite the critics. Along with some
basic scenes, I have a portion of the soundtrack planned out in my
head – which encompasses half of
Fresh Aire III, the 1979 outing from Chip Davis and Mannheim
Steamroller.
Working around the theme of summer (and the perfect album to
listen to this weekend, when the temperature in Chicago was over 50
degrees), Davis and crew take the lessons they learned over the
course of their first two outings and create quite possibly the
most cohesive Mannheim Steamroller album ever. The only qualms I
have are the length of one or two pieces, but otherwise, you might
find it hard to take this one out of your CD player.
It’s interesting to hear some of the combinations of styles that
Davis uses, even if some of them might have been subconscious. Take
the Middle Ages-like bridge on “Toccata,” punctuated by the
recorder and harpsichord. Sandwiched in between some wonderful
electronica (at least circa 1979, though I still think it sounds
fresh today), it’s shocking for the first moment you hear it, but
you quickly realize that, hey, this combination
works
. Having lived with a cassette of this album on and off for
over a year now, hearing that stylistic switch is almost as natural
as breathing, and just as exhilirating.
Likewise, “Small Wooden Bach’ses” is supposed to have a
Renaissance-like feel, but the combination of Clavichord, violin
and viola almost sounds like what would happen if Mozart visited
the Orient. This is by no means a slam on either the piece or
Davis’s orchestration; rather, it’s taking two unrelated styles, as
different as night and day, and making them harmonize beautifully.
That all said, I doubt that Davis was going for an Oriental feeling
for this piece; that’s just my gut reaction. To each their own, I
guess.
I am truly surprised that no film maker has picked up on the raw
emotion that is “Amber,” a tune which could just have easily come
from the pen of soundtrack virtuosos like Jerry Goldsmith or John
Williams. And “Mere Image,” another song which glorifies a
pseudo-Medieval-meets-Celtic vibe, packs quite a whallop all its
own, though it occasionally feels like it’s stretched a little too
long. (Memo to Davis: I understand what you were trying to
accomplish with this song by reading the liner notes – but those
also ruined my original view of the piece, which was originally one
of sheer joy and celebration. Sometimes, the less said, the
better.)
The second half of
Fresh Aire III has taken me the longest to warm up to, but
once the lightbulb in my head went on, I was able to recognize
these selections as being quite beautiful as well. “Morning” and
“Interlude 6” paint a pretty portrait of a summer in the woods,
while “The Cricket,” in all its electronic bombasity, reminds us
that lighter moments are intregal in all forms of music. “The Sky”
is a track which has me comparing it a lot to something I once
heard on a John Zorn album, just from the instrumentation of the
piano. It’s a stirring piece that you might not get on first
listen, but it’s well worth the time and effort.
Fresh Aire III has moments which listeners will undoubtedly
embrace the first moment they hear the songs, yet the album as a
whole is not one which you will immediately grasp. Like certain
selections, it’s well worth the effort to go back and spend the
33-plus minutes each time listening to this disc.
Who knows? Maybe one day I will write that screenplay. And if I
do, one of the first calls I’d make would be to Chip Davis to beg
for permission to use a good portion of
Fresh Aire III. Yes, kids, it’s that good.