Something Creepy This Way Comes 🎵 👻

Music to capture the essence of the darker months

A giant shadow creeps alongside the wall of the aal Davit kirkyard: remember remember the 5th of November, 2023

The random jukebox of the mind

I frequently wake up with a piece of music playing in my head on a loop, over and over again. It usually comes and goes like a theme tune over the course of the day, or days, or even weeks. I often end up with a monthly shuffle, with maybe three songs vying for my conscious attention. Sometimes a song on the radio, a memory or something said in conversation will spark them into life; but at other times they are so random that I have no idea of their probable origin, and shake my head in bemusement at some of the titles which have made the playlist! I’m sure many of you experience the same. It can be great company when out for a run or doing menial chores, but can also be a blooming annoyance when it plays the same section over and over and over again; or if it starts up at wildly inappropriate times. . . even if it is an excellent tune! 😆

The other day I awoke in heaven as Ralph Vaughan Williams’ ‘Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis’¹ filled by head. It was such a wonderful start to the day. Serene yet profound; elevating, yet grounding. Nonetheless, by the time I was getting my breakfast organised, I caught myself muttering,

“I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)
I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah. . .”

Eh? Where the bloody hell did that come from?

From that moment onwards my day was punctuated by episodes of the Vaughan Williams’ ‘Fantasia’ alternating with ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls.

I shook my head in disbelief and surrendered myself to enjoy the variation.

I have to admit I sometimes find it quite exciting never knowing what’s going to turn up next on Sandi FM. My unconscious mind is often like a jukebox, selecting wonderfully random song selections over the course of the night, in preparation for the days, even weeks ahead. This morning, by the time I got to the bathroom, Lady Gaga’s ‘Pokerface’ was making itself heard in the background of my mind; yet by the time I had eaten breakfast, this had morphed into ‘Dear Prudence’ by the Beatles! 🙄

There is one piece of music in particular that I haven’t been able to shake off since I heard it for the first time, whilst driving my postie van up through Thainstone Woods to Thainstone House Hotel. It captivated me, ensnared me, bewitched me in the most disturbing of ways, as I couldn’t say that I actually liked it. But from that moment it was imprinted on my memory. Now as we descend into the darker half of the year, this piece of music comes back to haunt me on a regular basis. It has become my theme tune for October/November.

The theme of the dancing doll. . .

I’d casually switched the radio in the van over to Radio 3, to find myself in the midst of the day’s playlist reveal, where the theme was dolls. During this entertaining sequence of listener requests, a particular piece of music crept in insidiously. . . a tip-toe at a time. . . a hypnotising, haunting motif, which to me was so deeply unsettling, that I did consider switching to another station. . . but. . . something stayed my hand. I really don’t like being spooked, but at the same time my subconscious gravitates towards the unknown - the uncanny. The knot of discomfort in my belly slowly began tightening. . .

It was the theme of the automaton doll, from Italian composer Nino Rota’s film score for Federico’s Fellini’s Casanova (1976). The scene in question involves the main protagonist returning to his rooms late at night, to dance with his mechanical doll. . . freaky and disturbing!²

The recording which so bewitched me was performed by Riccardo Chailly and the Filarmonica Della Scala - Suite Sinfonica: 6. ‘La Poupeé Automate.’

Filarmonica della Scala - Topic on YouTube

A vibraphone plods an uncanny ostinato, as if shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, introducing. . . a high motif, twinkling on celeste - a sinister Sugar Plum Fairy from a parallel universe. When the breathy flute exhales the main theme, I am spellbound and find myself inexplicably drawn towards this eerie combination of sound. This music immediately brings to mind passages from two of my favourite ‘ children’s’ books: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S Lewis³ and The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper.⁴

Could this be the hypnotic music played by Mr. Tumnus, on his “strange little flute that looked as if it were made of straw?” Music with the specific purpose of holding someone captive - in this case Lucy . . . The melody “made Lucy want to cry and laugh and dance and go to sleep all at the same time” (Lewis: 21); on the other hand, ‘La Poupeé Automate’ certainly didn’t coax me to sing or dance, but did have the quality of a disturbing lullaby. . .

Could this be the unearthly music which Will hears on the ‘island’ which has emerged in the middle of the Thames, in the midst of a winter storm? In this case the thin, high voices of The Dark capture and hold Will’s attention, preventing him from doing what he must do. Likewise, ‘La Poupeé’ has the same profound effect on the listener - to captivate, to hold, to bewitch. . . It could be the insidious theme of The Dark. . .

“It came from a long way off, and it was not pleasant to hear. But it held him transfixed, turning his thoughts away from their proper direction, turning them away from everything except contemplation of whatever happened to be nearest to hand. Will felt he was growing roots, like the tree above him. As he listened to the singing, he saw a twig on a low branch of the beech close to his head that seemed for no reason so totally enthralling that he could do nothing but gaze at it, as if it contained the whole world. He stared for so long, his eyes moving very gradually along the tiny twig and back again, that he felt as if several months had passed, while the high, strange singing went on and on in the sky from its distant beginnings. And then suddenly it stopped, and he was left standing dazed with his nose almost touching a very ordinary beech twig.” (Cooper: 227).

I love the way Cooper describes the effect of the mesmerising music on Will: “a slow contemplation that was warm and relaxing as the summer sun, but at the same time horrible in its soft clutch of his mind.” (228).

Fantastic stuff!

I’ve come a long way from my first uncomfortable reaction to ‘La Poupeé Automate.’ I’ve now become really fond of this piece of music - my theme tune for the darkening months. Nino Rota is a genius for creating something simultaneously so unsettling yet devilishly beautiful!

What do you think?

Best listened to alone in the dark, as billows of silent fog descend to muffle and obscure the world around you. . .

Which music affects you in a similarly creepy way?

A lone maple clings to its remaining leaves as a foggy dusk falls on Davit: remember remember the 5th of November, 2024

1. ‘Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis’ by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1910)

Philharmonia Orchestra with John Wilson on YouTube:

2. Fellini’s hauntingly sad and frankly disturbing sequence featuring Casanova and his Dancing Doll. . .

TienneSynthetica on YouTube

As the film draws to a close, an aging Casanova dances again with his mechanical doll on Venice’s frozen lagoon. . . alone. . .

3. 1992. Lewis, C.S. 1992. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. London: Harper Collins. 21.

4. 1976. Cooper, S. The Dark is Rising. London: Penguin. 226-228.