Silent Running OST by Peter Schickele

 

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December 1978, and BBC2 is showing a season of science fiction films over the Christmas holidays, a reflection of the cultural impact of Star Wars, a phenomenon in America hitting UK cinemas that Christmas. For a geeky science-fiction-crazy kid like me, it was something like heaven, all those late-night science fiction films every night; 1950s classics that I knew and loved and others quite new to me. One film new to me made a particular impact on me- Douglas Trumbull’s remarkable 1972 eco-drama, Silent Running. It made an emotional connection with me, in no small part due to the evocative music of Peter Schicklele and the songs featuring Joan Baez. Hey, I was twelve.

On a subsequent airing on another BBC2 science-fiction movie season (how I miss those movie seasons) I recorded the entire Silent Running film onto my mono cassette deck. We film geeks kind of did that kind of nonsense back in the days when videotape seemed, well, the stuff of Star Trek; we’d re-live the film experience by listening to it and running the film back in our minds-eye. I kept that cheap old C90 cassette safe for years, listening to the score mostly.

One time, I was in Birmingham and the HMV there was selling the Silent Running soundtrack album (the Varese green vinyl release). I nearly bought it, but money was tight (I was still in High School back then, back in the days of 50p pocket money) and I was caught in the heady thrill of buying Robert E Howard import paperbacks from the city’s sci-fi bookshop, so the REH books won and the album was left behind. How many times I regretted that decision (almost as much as failing to buy the Blade Runner issue of Cinefex, although the eventual book reprint halted that particular recurring nightmare). How was I to know those REH paperbacks would be around for a few years, later reprinted several times in later editions, but that album would disappear forever, quickly going out of print?

The CD format arrived, and over the years so many soundtracks got transferred to that format leaving the pop and click of vinyl behind. Surely Silent Running would get released on CD someday. Years, decades passed, inexplicably it never turned up, just like a CD release of the Tron soundtrack.  Eventually even the Tron soundtrack saw a release on CD (hurrah!), but Silent Running? I’d frequent Film Music forums raising its non-release as some kind of tragedy or crime, bumping old threads over the years. No-one seemed able to explain its absence. As the CD format itself neared the end of its days in favour of digital downloads and streaming its become increasingly unlikely that it would ever get a release. And then-

December 2016, and Intrada have released the Peter Schickele soundtrack of Silent Running on CD for the first time. Last month when Intrada  announced its release, rather out of the blue, of course exchange-rates and the dangers of customs be damned, I had to order a copy.  It arrived in the post today. Its probably one of the most expensive single CD’s I ever bought (although I got away without a customs sting, thank goodness). But of course its worth it. Its an incredible thing, hearing it at long last, crystal-clear on CD, holding the case in my hand. Seeing the artwork, reading the title Silent Running… Maybe there is a Santa.

From 1978 to 2016 its been 38 years. Holding this CD means a lot. Forgive an old fool the nostalgic passions dating back to his twelve-year old self. But anybody who fell in love with this movie over the years will understand the emotional connection with that music.

As it turned out, all the masters for the score and album were long-lost, which explained why a CD version was never released until now- this release entailed a transfer from an original mint vinyl copy of the original Decca album of 1972. Its amazing what those engineering wizards can do, because this sounds fantastic.

Well, I guess the only thing left is a complete Blade Runner release by Vangelis. Who knows? After Silent Running has finally seen the light of day on this amazing CD, anything, surely, is possible. 38 years. Crikey.