Auditory Memory

I had an aunt who said that buying soundtracks was stupid: once the movie's momentum was gone so would the interest for its music. My dad once said that movie music belongs to movies and that they have no way of fitting on our daily lives: our connection with it lasts while the film lasts. At first I was too coy to debate with them, but now having seen as much movies as I have seen and having heard as much movie soundtracks/original scores as I have heard I can fully disagree with them.

On early March I went to the best party I've attended to date: the Nave. Among the all-time favorites that were played by the party's DJs were two from Quentin Tarantino's 2003 masterpiece Kill Bill Vol. 1's soundtrack: a crazy remix of Nancy Sinatra's Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) and The 5, 6, 7, 8's Woo Hoo was played twice. These songs are my irrefutable proofs that movie music can transcend the celluloid.

When my relatives said those things they took for granted two powerful arts: filmmaking and music. It's known that a lot of a film's emotion would be hard to be transmited without a score and/or a soundtrack. Music is such a grand art that most of the songs contained on films soundtracks weren't written for the motion picture, but there they are molding themselves to the plot's spirit setting the mood for the public's catharsis. The art of filmmaking got as grand status in this sense especially for being able to mold an older and more independent art [despite of MTV music doesn't need video] to its designs. A recent example is the use of dancefloor classic Vogue on modern-already-classic The Devil Wears Prada. The song got a glamourous and even more iconic turn bathed in all those Channel's, Prada's, Gucci's etc etc. Nowadays I can't help feeling at a Dolce & Gabbana runway when I listen to Madonna's masterpiece.

Last night as I listened to the two Kill Bills' soundtracks I was struck by another confirmation of these arts' power: the feelings those songs imprint to one's emotional memory. While Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood got me holding my Hattori Hanzo, I before rode the town with my ultra-cool yellow outfit and motorbike at the sound of the Green Hornet theme. But Tarantino's music taste goes beyond filmy experiences. His last two epics transformed cult songs into mainstream gems [everybody heard-till-got-sick-of Carolina Márquez's The Killer Song with Bernard Herrmann's Twisted Nerve ill-used sample]; they also got my first contact with Ennio Morricone's genius music and I bet that everyone in the party I mentioned above felt like wacko Japs dancing at The House Of Blue Leaves whenever Woo Hoo was played, I at least did.

In addition, listening to a movie's soundtrack or score can bring back the feelings the movie brought upon you. One might say that way we limit the music to one thing, but that's what we do all the time isn't it? We can't feel everything when we do something, so we connect the situation to one sensation. Whenever I listen Dario Marianelli's tunes for 2005 literature adaptation Pride & Prejudice I feel connected to Lizzie Bennet's wit and vivacity and Mr. Darcy's charm and presence. When Isabelle Hupert sings Françoise Hardy's hit A Message Personnel or Fanny Ardant does the incredible bossa rendition of the wild French disco hit that is Nicoletta's A Quoi Sert De Vivre Libre both from the 2002 François Orzon's film 8 Femmes I feel the colors and the joi de vivre from those marvelous women.

Music and films is a match made in heaven, because for me film music is a way to keep vivid in my memory the awesomeness of the motion picture. The same way we lose momentum from a film and consequently its score we lose momentum from all kinds of artists and music. It's the moment that counts, whenever it is.

So, which is the soundtrack piece that rocks your socks?

[Song: The Secret Life Of Daydreams - Dario Marianelli]