Fans of the obscure, industrial and disturbing may recall Coil's soundtrack to Clive Barker's Hellraiser. A series of profoundly unsettling sound sculptures intended as musical accompaniment to the zany antics of Pinhead et al, Coil's material was rejected -- if you believe the rumors -- for being too frightening.
We seem to have come full circle. Last year, Raz Mesinai (Sub Dub, Badawi) was tapped to create the soundtrack for the sixth volume of the Hellraiser saga, which I'm assuming/hoping will go directly to video with minimal fanfare. Like Coil, Mesinai saw the majority of his work rejected as simply too disturbing -- or perhaps the film's producers opted, instead, to cram their movie full of B-list rap-metal supplied by TVT Records. Time will tell. Meanwhile, Mesinai, thoroughly intrigued by the concept of sonically-induced fear, has created The Unspeakable to scare the living bejabbers out of you.
So, does it work? Is The Unspeakable frightening? Well, it depends. Mesinai has moved away from his usual dub-intensive style -- after all, this isn't "Attack of the Rastafarians from Hell", interesting as that concept might be -- in favor of a rich but formless orchestral sound. Over the course of twenty pieces, he uses strings, bass, odd vocals and a variety of specially-prepared instruments to make aural reference to the standard elements of contemporary horror. We're talking about things like Satan, demonic possession, the opening of gateways to Hell, slime, corruption, decay, pus, maggots, madness, rotting corpses, half-seen things that make skittering noises, abandoned and defiled churches, madness, evil children, beheadings, gibbering monstrosities, yawning bottomless pits and massive, shapeless Lovecraftian Horrors from the Dawn of Time. If things like that send a chill down your spine -- and really, shouldn't they? -- you're bound to be at least a little bit disturbed by The Unspeakable, unless you spend the majority of your time listening to Current 93 albums.
A song title like "Demonic Uprise" doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it? While listening to it in a crowded, well-lit place might not result in the slightest of shudders, its oddly-pitched, percussive bass rhythm will give you the screaming heebie-jeebies if you're alone in the dark. Likewise, the schizophrenically chaotic "Celebrate the Coming" uses dischordant harpsichord and strings to send the message that something pretty damn awful is happening...and there's nothing you can do to stop it. This is Ancient, Nameless Evil, remember? Best to get out of the way and let the big-time heroic types handle it.
Ultimately, as with horror films, the things we can't quite perceive are scarier than the horrors in direct sight. When Mesinai throws a dozen different sounds into a whirling cacophony of firmament-rending chaos, music lovers will want to stop and listen. However frightening the sounds might be, they're as intriguing to the ear as an ancient puzzle box is to the hands, and the temptation to tinker is strong. It's the less-detailed tracks that will really get you. Your mind will fill in the blanks, adding form and tangible danger to those vaguely menacing scratching noises going on behind you. Listen in a quiet, empty, darkened house and you'll be gibbering like an idiot in no time.
A few listeners get scarier things than The Unspeakable free with their breakfast cereal...but the rest of you are in for a pretty good fright. But when you listen, don't do anything stupid like painting the walls and floor with animal-blood pentagrams or dragging out the Necronomicon for a bit of group interp. That's just asking for trouble.
