Coda - We've Got Work to Do

What might Doctor Who have sounded like in the 1990s?

In discussing Survival, I suggested that Dominic Glynn's decision to combine electronic music with a guest musician (and he was hardly the first - see also The King's Demons and The Two Doctors, and we may as well mention Paddy Kingsland's steadfast use of his own electric guitar here) showed a possible way forward for DW incidental music, if the series had continued into the 1990s. The use of stock period music in Black Orchid and 1950s covers in Delta and the Bannermen - and the influence of that music in the composers' electronic scores - also showed a balance between newer and older musical styles, and an awareness of the different atmospheric requirements of stories with historical settings as distinct from those set on alien worlds, that would have stood later composers in good stead.

Over most of its half-century run so far, DW has tended towards one or other musical extreme, (nearly) all synth or (nearly) all orchestral/traditional, when a judicious mixture of the two might have better suited the stories' requirements. The Hartnell era, with its patchwork of commissioned compositions and traditional or futuristic music taken from library stock, actually shows a better balance of musical styles than any other period in the show's history. Using Dudley Simpson or the Radiophonic Workshop as "in-house" composers in later years presumably gave the production office (and the composers!) a certain amount of stability and security, but at the cost of this balance.

What's happened since 1989, not just in DW but in general, isn't so much a drive towards harmony between orchestral and synth sounds as a drive to make synthesizers imitate orchestral sounds as closely as possible, and to use real orchestras whenever possible. I have enough orchestra friends that I can't really consider this a terrible thing. Professional players need to pay the bills, and rank amateurs like m'self need something more interesting than "Clair de lune" to play in our village halls - from that perspective, orchestral science fiction scores are to be welcomed. But electronic sound has a beauty of its own, and it has a place in science fiction that can't easily be filled by the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and the Crouch End Festival Chorus.

Electronic sounds have been rare in DW's soundtracks since 2006 - since, that is to say, the BBC recognised the show as a marketable success and gave the production office the budget to bring in a roomful of real musicians and get Ben Foster to orchestrate Murray Gold's compositions, which is after all what Gold and Russell T Davies wanted in the first place. Is DW - are we - better off for it? I mean, consider the theme Gold composed for the Face of Boe's return appearances. We have the luxury of being able to use this theme to compare and contrast the two musical styles: it can be heard in its pre-Ben Foster form on the CD of soundtrack highlights from Series 1 and 2, and in its fully orchestrated form on the Series 3 soundtrack CD. The version heard in New Earth at the start of Series 2, sparsely performed on piano and high synths and overlaid with weird sighing noises, conveys something of the isolation, alienness and strange beauty of this gigantic face in a jar. The version heard in Gridlock in Series 3, performed by a full choir and the massed strings of the BBC NO of W, arguably fits in the context of a scene of the citizens of New New York ascending into the sunlight, but it's hardly distinguishable from the music of any other film or TV programme. (It then disappears into two minutes of guitar and violin chunter, over which we draw a discreet veil). I put it to you, gentle reader, that we have lost something.

Of course, we do know what DW sounded like in the '90s, because it came back for one night in 1996, and it's not unreasonable to draw a line from Survival through the collaborative TV Movie score of John Debney, John Sponsler and Louis Febre - heavy on the orchestral sound, but with clear synth elements throughout - to Murray Gold's work on Series 1. But it might be more interesting to look at Christopher Franke's work on Babylon 5, a much larger body of work from around the same period. Franke, like Gold, went through a shift from predominantly synth to predominantly orchestral scores, but over a longer period and from a more firmly entrenched position as a synth composer - he was a major player in the pioneering German electronic band Tangerine Dream. He didn't have access to a full standing orchestra for B5, but called in members/sections of the "Berlin Symphonic Film Orchestra" as required, a bit like Dudley Simpson carefully selecting his four or five chamber musicians for a Tom Baker story. Listening to the soundtrack from a story in the middle of B5's five year run - well, let's say the Season 3 finale Z'ha'dum - we can hear big orchestral swells for the dramatic moments and anxious violins in the quieter parts, but also a thoroughgoing range of electronic noises that really sell the alien setting of the Shadows' homeworld and the lurking menace of the Shadows themselves. We could do worse than look to this as a cousin of the soundtrack for our imaginary '90s series of DW.

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Who might have composed incidental music for Doctor Who in the 1990s?

Well, it's tempting to speculate. The McCoy Era Three - Dominic Glynn, Keff McCulloch and Mark Ayres - would of course be shoo-ins, although with McCulloch's DW output diminishing year on year, it's possible he might have moved on. It's not hard to imagine Ayres providing a makeover for the DW theme tune - in fact it's very easy to imagine, since he's had a few goes at it for fun over the years - and his star seemed to be in the ascendant with the production office in 1989. And it'd be a sad season for Sylvester McCoy that didn't include at least one Glynn score.

Ken "Prof" Freeman? Workhorse of the original recording of Jeff Wayne's Musical War of the Worlds and late of the BBC adaptation of The Tripods. A world in which DW continued to air in 1990 might well also have seen the expected third series of The Tripods, but that would have been over by 1987, so he would have been available. Those in the know at BBC TV Centre must surely have been going wild over his theme tune for Casualty around the time Season 24 was being planned - it's kind of surprising he wasn't approached, really. Readers are advised to track down his Tripods soundtrack album (or just watch the DVD, for that matter).

Howard Goodall? Another surprising oversight. He'd been working on BBC TV shows since the early '80s, and composed the music for every single episode of Red Dwarf starting in 1988 (although readers might get a better idea of how he might have scored DW by rewatching the "future" section of Blackadder's Christmas Carol). He's also composed several classical choral pieces and presented a number of programmes about the history of music, so there can be no doubting his range and credentials. An obvious choice for stories with a contemporary or historical setting.

Christopher Franke? No, that's just being silly.

Adrian Pack and Michael Fillis? Also known as Cybertech, the duo who slipped John Nathan-Turner a demo tape during filming of Dimensions in Time in 1993 (left it a bit late there, lads) and ended up providing the theme arrangement for the charity skit. They went on to produce two CDs of music inspired by classic DW scores and, narratively, by some of the spin-off novels. (On a side note, the first of these was the first CD I ever bought.) Their rave version of the DW theme is an acquired taste, to be sure, but the rest of the material on their CDs suggested they would have fitted right in as 1990s DW composers. Their Cyberman theme could have been a contender.

Orbital? The Hartnoll brothers are confirmed fans, and they've worked on a number of film soundtracks since 1997, something that had apparently long been an ambition of theirs. Their rave version of the DW theme, performed at gigs since way back when, is a taste more easily acquired than Cybertech's, and was even picked up for use on an official 40th anniversary promo trailer included on several DW DVDs in 2003. They were just starting out around the turn of 1990 and didn't become a big ticket act until the mid '90s, so they would have been affordable. At the very least they'd have been the ideal choice for any DW story set at a rave, and after seeing Mags the punk/goth werewolf in 1988, that's not something I would have ruled out.

Kate Bush? Well, she did write Kinda, after all.

The BBC Radiophonic Workshop? Come back, all is forgiven? And why not? Presumably Dick Mills would have continued to provide the special sound (at least, until leaving the Workshop in 1993), so it would have been easy enough to arrange, if John Nathan-Turner had wanted to repeat the mix-and-match experiment of Season 23. Peter Howell and Liz Parker were both still working there until the late '90s - another score from either of them would have been more than welcome. And if JNT had insisted on sticking with freelancers, there was always Paddy Kingsland.

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And so, as Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred stroll off into the woods on Horsenden Hill and the McCulloch arrangement of the DW theme tune plays out the 1980s, it's time to thank people. Thanks to everybody who made the music discussed in this blog, and everybody who made the TV show that caused the music to be made. Thanks to everybody reading this blog, too! Thanks to Mark Ayres for archiving all that Radiophonic music and for handling the audio remastering on all those DVDs. And thanks to Silva Screen Records for resuming their classic series soundtrack releases.

I'd like to give special thanks to Bruce Ngataierua, who lent me several of the DVDs that I don't own - specifically, the ones with no isolated score. The ones that required careful and repeated viewing just to spot where all the musical cues were. Huge thanks to Bruce for his generosity and patience with that.

Of course, I wouldn't want to lean too heavily on friendship, nor would I want to see my local libraries go under for want of custom, so thanks also to the Lower Hutt War Memorial and Wellington Central libraries for their extensive collections of DW DVDs and affordable lending fees. In fact, I should probably thank Anne Olsen for Lower Hutt's range, as I suspect she's responsible for a lot of it.

And obviously, thanks to Jo for staying in the room with me while I was watching Time-Flight. It's a lot to ask of anyone.

We may have reached the end of this project, but we've still got work to do. One of the unstated aims of this blog was to provoke wider discussion of music in DW, and while that's more ambitious than my modest reader base will allow, it's still an aim. Or rather, it's my hope that DW's incidental music will be more widely discussed, and if this blog doesn't contribute directly to that, it should at least be thought of as a sort of cosmic ordering. At least one chunky, erudite small press book of essays about DW music in all its forms - is that too much to wish for? But it's going to take more knowledgeable and better-connected people than me to make it happen. Fandom, it's over to you.

50 - Survival

Composer: Dominic Glynn
Director: Alan Wareing

What's the score?
Dominic Glynn's last score for DW, and the last story to be transmitted in the show's original run. Once again Glynn brings in a guest musician to beef up his score - in this case, it's David Hardington on the electric and acoustic guitars. The electric guitar gets the starring role, contributing a couple of prominent themes and a variety of feline yowls throughout the story. The acoustic guitar is reserved for the story's more contemplative moments.
Glynn uses an extremely wide variety of synth voices in this score, but the most notable is probably the piano - sinister piano steps feature prominently, helping to build up an atmosphere of menace. In a similar vein, several of the scenes of Cheetah People hunting or toying with human prey feature the sort of scratching violin sounds one might expect to find in one of Bernard Herrmann's Hitchcock film scores.

Musical notes

• As with all his work for DW, Glynn's score for Survival is built around themes and distinctive sounds. The main theme for this score is a wistful, hungry sounding piece heard on various instruments throughout the story, most notably on the electric guitar. It's first hinted at in faint flute tones in the scene when Ange tells Ace that all her old friends have disappeared (to the planet of the Cheetah People, as we later discover), and it's picked up in a deeper woodwind voice after Ace herself has arrived on the Cheetah planet. Its last appearance in the story is a quiet reprise on the acoustic guitar in Part Three as Ace mourns over the body of Karra, the Cheetah Person that she befriends. There's a secondary theme for the electric guitar that has a bit of an Edge of Darkness about it.
• Season 26 hasn't offered much opportunity for diegetic muzak, but Glynn gets to provide the last example - a soft guitar and glockenspiel melody under high synths - in the scene in the corner shop in Part One.
• The cue that plays when the Doctor is spying on the domestic cats of Perivale (and John Nathan-Turner's dog...) in Part One is a cheeky one. It's a playful piece in bass guitar and piano with an up-and-down marimba hook and tambourine accents, and it's a rather accurate spoof of the sort of thing British viewers could expect to hear on any number of natural history programmes. Bass, marimba and tambourine are practically the signature sounds for BBC programmes about big cats mucking about in the Serengeti - applying them to small cats on a surburban street, with the Doctor cast in the role of natural historian, is an inspired move.
• The marimba crops up again in Parts Two and Three, providing the waltzing rhythm for a theme in high synth tones that seems to represent the pull of the Cheetah planet over its inhabitants. It's first heard when the Master describes the Cheetah People to the Doctor and his friends, and can be heard at various times in Part Three when Ace falls under the planet's influence. The theme makes its last appearance in the middle of the scene of the Doctor and the Master fighting on the planet of the Cheetah People, when the Cheetahs themselves vanish and the Doctor rejects the urge to become like them. Some cues embellish the theme with horn or electric guitar sounds, or replace the marimba with other synth voices.
• Our old friend the E-Mu Emulator II shakuhachi sample (remember it from Time and the Rani?) is back. It can be heard when Ace is transported to the planet of the Cheetah People in Part One, and it puts in a couple more appearances in Part Two.
• I'm quite fond of the heartbeat-like percussion and reversed breathing sounds that play early on in Part Three as Ace runs off with Karra. It's a very nicely judged cue.
• The very last incidental cue of 1980s DW is a little walkdown in flute tones based on the DW theme tune, with the melancholic acoustic guitar coming in halfway through. It plays over the Doctor's "Come on, Ace, we've got work to do" speech, and like that speech, it stands as a valediction to the classic series.

Vox pop
It's a great note to go out on. Overall, I think this is the strongest of Dominic Glynn's five DW scores, thanks to the tremendously varied sound palette and, of course, that electric guitar. Like all the best DW scores, it's the right fit for the TV episodes and lovely to listen to in isolation as well. In hindsight, it also strikes just the right note for the story that marked the end of an era - anxious, plaintive, but still promising more.
Next week we can look back at 1980s DW music as a whole, but for now, it's farewell to Dominic Glynn. "Solid" is a word I've used quite a bit in describing Glynn's DW scores - he's not prone to outbursts of sonic exuberance in the way that Keff McCulloch is, but the quality of his work is more consistently high. And his practice, here and with The Happiness Patrol, of bolstering his electronic score with the non-electronic sound of a session musician adds a lot of extra depth to these later scores, and hints at a fruitful direction DW's incidental music could have gone in if it had continued into the '90s. Somewhere in that lost decade, uncomposed, is the missing link between the synths of the '80s and Murray Gold's almost entirely symphonic compositions.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.

49 - The Curse of Fenric

Composer: Mark Ayres
Director: Nicholas Mallett

What's the score?
The second of Mark Ayres' DW scores, and the last to be transmitted. As with Ghost Light, harp and violin synth voices lead the way - the snare drum, horns and woodwind play a smaller part. As Ayres observes in his liner notes for the '90s CD soundtrack release, the more obviously electronic elements of the score are restricted to the more otherworldly scenes of the story.

Musical notes

• Various cues during the story, notably at the start of Part One, include a six-note phrase in strings (the very first cue also includes a six-note counterphrase) signifying the approach of Russian soldiers up to and across the Northumberland coast. Hints of it re-appear in scenes of the Haemovores' advance from the sea in Part Three. As Ayres has confirmed on several occasions, this phrase is based on - but not directly quoted from - part of Igor Stravinsky's "The Firebird". (Specifically, on what the cellos and bass do in the first couple of bars of the Introduction, folks!) It doesn't seem to have been a narratively significant choice - Ayres apparently just wanted something with a Russian sound to serve as a hook for his score. The story of Stravinsky's ballet isn't a great match for The Curse of Fenric, but on a related note "The Firebird" is supposed to be the source of the original sample for the synth "orchestra hit" so beloved of the Sylvester McCoy era composers. (Check out the start of the "Infernal Dance" movement, folks!).
• There's a short reference to the Glenn Miller recording of "In the Mood" as the Doctor and Ace arrive at the military base in Part One. Ayres has recalled in interview that he stuck this in as a joke at the expense of the scriptwriter, who'd expressed a concern that the whole score for his 1940s story would be influenced by the Big Band sound. A further small reprise of the swinging percussion from this cue can be heard later in Part One when the Doctor fakes his credentials in Dr Judson's office.
• As Rev Wainwright glad-hands his parishioners on their way out of the Church of St Jude in Part One, we can hear an organ pastiche of Hubert Parry's tune for the hymn "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind". It's common enough for organists to improvise a voluntary around some well-known bit of sacred music after a service, but we never get to see St Jude's organist - in fact, the organist and the music have both mysteriously vanished by the time the Doctor and Ace have followed Wainwright back into the church. What a wasted opportunity for a cameo from Ayres! 
• The "enemies coming from the sea" motif isn't the only prominent six-note phrase in this score - the titular Curse is represented by a descending sequence of notes plucked out on the harp. A slow four-note sequence is heard first, when the ancient runes in the St Jude's crypt are revealed; the full motif, the four downward notes plus a two-note "bounce", turns up in the next cue as the Doctor notices some Nordic family names in St Jude's graveyard. The fast six notes and the slower four notes re-appear throughout the rest of the story with varying degrees of electronic embellishments depending on the significance of the scene. Ayres throws in some Vangelis-style Chariots of Fire percussion business when the Doctor starts talking about "Evil from the Dawn of Time" in Part Three. The percussion and the harp motif go their separate ways in Part Four after Fenric finally makes an appearance.
• Less prominent themes include a slightly uncanny piece on the piano for the baby that turns out to be Ace's mother, which is picked up in the final cue of Part Four when Ace's "dangerous undercurrents" have been dealt with; and a series of sombre string chords over a higher-pitched string drone to represent Commander Millington.
• Readers who don't believe that the DW scores of Mark Ayres and Keff McCulloch warrant comparison should check out the cues that play while the Haemovores are attacking the Church of St Jude in Part Three. These bombastic slices of mayhem feature the liberal application of synth choir and orchestra hits over a sustained percussive assault - McCulloch would be proud.
• A soundtrack CD for this story was released in July 1991, but what it contained wasn't exactly what had been heard on the story's original broadcast. The story had been released on VHS earlier in the year with deleted scenes re-inserted, and Ayres had been asked to expand some of his cues with new material to match the extended visuals, notably in Parts One and Four. The CD, released in the wake of the video release, showcased this extended version of the score. A few of the shorter cues from Part One were left off the CD, such as those mentioned above of the Doctor forging his credentials and of the organ voluntary heard at the Church of St Jude; other cues were expanded substantially. The net quantity of music on the CD was only two or three minutes more than the quantity used on the broadcast episodes.

Vox pop
It's hard to find fault with a Mark Ayres DW score. This is probably my least favourite of his three - quite possibly a reflection of my ambivalence towards the story itself - but it's still tremendously listenable. As with Ghost Light, the balance of conventional to unconventional sounds is spot on, and the sense of a lurking and building horror is brought off beautifully.
This isn't really farewell for Ayres - he continued to provide the music for DW tie-in videos after working on the show just as he had before, and as custodian of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop archives, he's still involved today in the production of the DW soundtrack CDs that Silva Screen Records have laudably started issuing again. He can even be seen in public performing alongside Radiophonic Workshop members from time to time. Still, it's tempting to wonder what more he might have done if DW hadn't been taken off the air in 1989 - of the three McCoy era composers, he's the one I can most easily imagine scoring DW again in 1990.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option. The DVD also includes a special "movie" edition of the story with a re-recorded score, but no isolated audio option was included for this version of the score.
• A soundtrack CD for this story was released by Silva Screen Records in 1991, with changes from the broadcast soundtrack as noted above.

48 - Ghost Light

Composer: Mark Ayres
Director: Alan Wareing

What's the score?
This is the last of Mark Ayres' three DW scores to be composed - and the last story of this season to be recorded - but the second to be transmitted. Once again Ayres uses character sounds to "narrate" the story, although not to the extent that he did with The Greatest Show in the Galaxy. But in a sense, the use of incidental music as a narrative device is here taken to a different extreme, with Ayres' music brought up so high in the audio mix and the studio dialogue turned down so low that in many scenes the music is left carrying the burden of having to lead the viewer through. The story goes that director Alan Wareing had so little confidence that viewers would be able to follow the script that he deliberately skewed the sound balance in post-production in order to drown out the dialogue - whether there's any truth to this anecdote is moot.
In the liner notes for the recent CD release, Ayres recalls that he was on a tight schedule to complete this score owing to the fact that it had been filmed so late but was to be transmitted so early in the season. A false start on the music for Part One left him working on Ghost Light up until the week before Part One was due to be broadcast, but the extra time allowed him to come up with the orchestra-on-a-budget sound that producer John Nathan-Turner had wanted. Harp and violin sounds do much of the heavy lifting in this score, with scattered cello and woodwind sounds and a healthy dose of unorthodox electronic effects.

Musical notes

• Ayres' CD liner notes mention a distorted dinner gong sound for Mrs Pritchard, but it's pretty hard to spot this. There's certainly a faint cymbal-like noise in the background of some of her cues, but it's hardly a prominent element and really no more so than anywhere else in the score. The signature sound for Mrs Pritchard would surely have to be the sustained, discordant organ notes heard in Parts One and Two, for example in the early scene in which she stares down Rev Matthews.
• If your humble blogger had to pick out one element of this score that sounds like a distorted sample of a gong, it'd have to be the alarming metallic noise that represents Control, most prominently in her scenes in the "lower observatory" in Part One. There's a decidedly knife-like quality to this sound - Ayres seems to be positioning Control as the most sinister character in the story, certainly the most alien character. Although to begin with this sinister use of sound is just backing up the script, it continues after the script's bluff has been called and Control has been revealed as a friendly character.
• Nimrod the Neanderthal butler has an interesting signature sound (sadly, one that's not easy to pick out in the mix or, consequently, to illustrate with audio clips). It's a kind of wobbly "oo" sound wedded to something a bit like the sound of the workings of an old clock. Something similar but less polished - a much more raw, simian "oo" sound - can be heard in the scene in Part Two in which Rev Matthews de-evolves into an ape-like form (again, it's too low in the mix to be easily illustrated here). We might assume that Ayres is making a connection between the two, but given the subtlety of the sounds, it's likely to pass the listener by. 
• Redvers Fenn-Cooper, the quintessential image of the white colonial explorer, has plundered the African continent for his sounds. Percussive, wooden and pipe sounds are heard in several substantial cues featuring Fenn-Cooper - I wouldn't like to guess whether these are meant to be generic "ethnic" instruments or specific to a particular country, but well-informed readers are welcome to leave a comment on the subject.
• Organ music - more tuneful than Mrs Pritchard's sinister notes - is used for scenes in the "lower observatory", where Light sleeps and Nimrod prays to him. Once Light appears in person in Part Three, the organ is joined by bells, clashing cymbals and a hushed performance from the synth choir.
• The BBC's Programme-as-Completed documentation attributes "That's the Way to the Zoo", the comical piece Gwendoline performs on the piano while Rev Matthews is regressing, to Irish balladeer JF Mitchell some time around 1883. (It's played "out of vision" by pianist Alasdair Nicolson.) Ayres cannily reprises the melody of the chorus from this song, in tinny music-box tones, when we see Gwendoline preparing to send the ape-Matthews "to Java" later in Part Two. Later again in the same episode, there's a snatch of one phrase of the melody when Ace uncovers Matthews' display case. Less pertinently, the music-box melody crops up in Part Three when Josiah tells Gwendoline to send an unregressed Ace "to Java".
• The cues for Ayres' first attempt at Part One are included on the 2013 soundtrack CD as bonus tracks. The producer had lamented that he'd wanted an authentic acoustic score for this story but couldn't afford it; Ayres' stated intention was to emulate the sound of the family/chamber ensemble typical of the Victorian period. The problem evidently wasn't in selecting the appropriate synth voices, but in making the result muscular enough to carry a DW story - the main run of the draft score is led by the flute, clarinet and harp, with relatively little string accompaniment and some surprising moments of silence, and overall this feels rather more coy and less sinister than the story requires. Ayres' final version, with a much fuller string section and a stronger element of percussion, fits the bill nicely. It's worth noting, though, that the less orthodox elements of the score - including Control's sting and Redvers' African music, as well as the organ music for the crypt - are already present in the draft cues.

Vox pop
Another delightful score from Mark Ayres, although I find it harder to pick out favourite bits than I do with The Greatest Show in the Galaxy - this one's more concerned with atmosphere than with incident, which does of course make it the right choice for such an atmospheric story. For all that the use of period instrumentation (or a good synth imitation) is appropriate, I think it's the unearthly sounds and animalistic noises that add the sinister edge that really makes this score.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.
• Silva Screen Records issued a soundtrack CD for this story in 1993; an updated version was released in 2013.

47 - Battlefield

Composer: Keff McCulloch
Director: Michael Kerrigan

What's the score?
For the final time, Keff McCulloch provides the music for the season opener, and indeed this is his last DW score. Well, his last until the charity skit Dimensions in Time and the video release of Shada. Once again he's given the story with heavy martial overtones - UNIT and Arthurian knights this time - so naturally there's some common ground between this score and his work on the previous year's Dalek and Cyberman stories. Having said which, his choice of sound palette has undergone something of a shift, with synth strings and woodwind providing the backbone of this score. Percussion and horns are still prominent, but less so than in his earlier work, and his beloved orchestra hits hardly get a look-in. The synth choir does put in an appearance, though.

Musical notes

• As with McCulloch's two scores in the previous season, solid foursquare beats are the order of the day, but that doesn't stop McCulloch from having a little fun with the rhythm. There's actually a touch of swing in the battle scenes in Part One, which isn't a big help when the scenes themselves are so leisurely. The stand-out funky cue, however, must be the one that accompanies the scene of Mordred summoning Morgaine in Part Two - a regular beat underpins a pleasingly jumpy synth string melody.
• As ever, McCulloch favours character sounds over themes or motifs, and Battlefield has a few to offer. Ancelyn is represented with an upward electric guitar whine in his first (armoured) appearance, and repeatedly thereafter during the story - he may be the "good guy" knight, but McCulloch obviously thinks he's a bit of a badass. Parts One and Three feature some upward violin scratching for Morgaine, although this isn't a consistent feature of her scenes. The sword Excalibur, in its cutaway appearances in Part One, is heralded by high synth and faint organ notes, not entirely unlike the material used in Silver Nemesis on shots of the Nemesis asteroid in space. The use of martial snare drum rolls to represent UNIT should be obvious to everyone.
• The tick-tock harpsichord rhythm from Silver Nemesis makes a surprise reappearance at the start of Part Two when the Doctor, a.k.a. "Merlin", stares down Mordred. It wasn't used to represent the Doctor in the previous story, but as a motif for magical time-travellers from England's past - it's not a bad match for "Merlin" in that sense, then, although nobody at King Arthur's court would have played the harpsichord. 
• The reveal of Bessie, the Doctor's vintage car, in Part Three is heralded with a charming old-fashioned violin piece capped off with an "oo-wee-oo". Cherish this "oo-wee-oo", folks, because it's the last of McCulloch's long line of DW theme references.
• Readers who've been playing the Spot the Latin Music Moment game should take particular note of the big fight scene near the start of Part Four. Unless your humble blogger has missed something, this is the only musical cue in 1980s DW to feature the cowbell.
• When the Destroyer, unleashed, prepares to devour the world in Part Four, there's a sound that reminds your humble blogger of the siren of an ambulance. And what should we hear in the tail end of the climactic scene in which the Doctor persuades Morgaine not to start a nuclear war? Why, it's an up-and-down sound reminiscent of an ambulance siren - not the same cue, but similar enough to be worth mentioning. Perhaps McCulloch and/or director Michael Kerrigan have shrewdly picked up on the subtextual connection - apparently intended by the scriptwriter - between the world-eating demon and UNIT's nuclear missile.
• There's a lovely moment in Part Four when Ancelyn and Mordred are about to launch into a swordfight and the Doctor casually strolls between them - the music pauses and double-takes along with the knights.
• McCulloch is not averse to ending a DW score with a cheesy walkdown - ample proof can be found in Season 24 - and this story ends with the cheesiest of them all. A lengthy piece of lounge piano plays over the final scene at the Brigadier's country house, leading into a jaunty wrap-up in pizzicato strings and woodwind as the ladies take the Doctor's car for a joyride. And they call this Sylvester McCoy's "dark" season.

Vox pop
This is Keff McCulloch at his most reined-in. We lost the wild invention of Season 24, now we've lost most of the bombast of Season 25 - what we're left with is pleasant, but a bit too smooth. This score veers closest of all McCulloch's scores to what I've referred to before as the sound of daytime/lifestyle TV - for that matter, there are several cues in Battlefield that wouldn't sound out of place in a corporate training video (most notably, the first exterior shot of the Gore Crow Hotel in Part One). This is certainly the safest of McCulloch's scores, but I wouldn't say that playing safe is one of his strengths as a composer, or something I look for in a DW score.
And so, farewell, Keff McCulloch. I still maintain that he's a varied and interesting composer, undeservedly overlooked by too many DW fans. His work is of its time, but the same can be said of his contemporaries Glynn and Ayres, and there's less distance between the three of them than a lot of fans might care to admit.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.

46 - The Greatest Show in the Galaxy

Composer: Mark Ayres
Director: Alan Wareing

What's the score?
So here, at last, is Mark Ayres, last of the Sylvester McCoy era's Big Three of DW composers. Ayres secured this particular gig on the strength of two test cues he composed after being passed the script for Part One of Remembrance of the Daleks. These were later included in his album of DW spin-off related music, Myths and Other Legends, as "Terror in Totter's Lane" (the appearance and destruction of a Dalek in the junkyard) and "The Headmaster" (the Doctor and Ace first meet Coal Hill School's Headmaster and observe that he's being mind-controlled). They can be heard in context, slightly crushed to fit the scenes as finally shot, as an extra on the DVD release of The Greatest Show in the Galaxy.
Ayres provides a massive 70 minutes of music for Greatest Show - his score for The Curse of Fenric is similarly large, while even the score for the three-part Ghost Light tops 50 minutes. Whereas Dominic Glynn likes to build a score around a few strong repeated themes and a selection of story-specific sounds, and Keff McCulloch generally uses a small palette of favourite sounds to react in the moment to whatever's happening on screen, Ayres uses signature character sounds and occasional motifs in a very deliberate and information-heavy way to retell the story through his music - this is true of all his DW scores, but particularly of this one. In keeping with the circus theme of the story, the soundtrack is peppered with beats on the big bass drum, cymbal swells and crashes, snare drum rolls (for example, when Nord does his weightlifting act), and plenty of calliope music in the background.

Musical notes

• Signature sounds for everyone! In addition to the frequent use of high synths and tinging bells for exterior scenes on the planet Segonax, we have the following:
  • a snarling electric guitar for Nord, Vandal of the Roads
  • a pipe organ for the Chief Clown's hearse
  • dramatic stabbing sounds for the footsteps of the robotic Bus Conductor
  • pompous horns for the boorish explorer Captain Cook
  • a hissing, gasping sound (actually an electronically distorted sample of Ayres' own voice) for Mags, intended to hint at her later unmasking as a werewolf
  • a collection of percussive knocks, snaps and ratchets for the troupe of anonymous robot clowns
  • a lazy, spaced-out guitar for the burnt-out Deadbeat
  • a somewhat higher guitar and tinging bells for Bellboy
  Rather than providing specific themes for the characters, Ayres uses these sounds as the basis for a score that varies in response to whoever's on screen in a given scene. The character sounds can even be heard arguing with each other at certain points in the story - for instance, when Captain Cook deflects the murderous approach of the Bus Conductor in Part One, or when Deadbeat baits a caged Nord in Part Two.
• One cue that is repeated is the love theme for Bellboy and Flowerchild, heard in their scene together Part One and again in Part Three when Bellboy reminisces to Ace. It's a heartstring-tugger in a sad guitar and flute, and worth the repeating - DW (pre-2005, at least) doesn't often present composers with the opportunity for love themes, and Ayres rises to the occasion.
• The dark powers behind the Psychic Circus have their own set of signature sounds: two beats on the bass drum in any cue announce that something sinister is about to happen; there's a downward hollow sound for scenes of the eye at the bottom of the ancient well behind the big top; and echoing, grinding footsteps in the later episodes signal the acceleration of events and the increase of the Gods' power. When the Gods are revealed, Ayres accompanies the shots of their glowing eyes with a sustained high ringing sound.
• There are a couple of "oo-wee-oo" moments in this score. Ayres gets the first one in early, as we cross to a scene in the TARDIS after the Ringmaster's opening rap in Part One. The second one, heard later in Part One when the Doctor and Ace approach the Stallslady on their way to the circus, carries a small extra riff on the bassline rhythm with it. It's a pretty oblique reference, but Ayres recalls at this point on the DVD commentary that he was told not to do it again, because the production office would have to pay for any extensive extra use of Ron Grainer's theme melody. This seems to confirm the scuttlebutt about Keff McCulloch's heavy riffing on the theme in Season 24, but doesn't explain why even McCulloch's most tentative post-reprimand theme reference, in Silver Nemesis, is longer than the almost-reference here.
• I can't not mention the series of cues covering the end of Part Three and the start of Part Four, during which the Doctor fends off a werewolf attack in the circus ring and the robot Bus Conductor attempts to kill Ace. (These cues were stitched into a single continuous piece on the 1992 soundtrack CD release, and I still think of them as parts of a single unit.) The werewolf cues are driven by a rhythm section of bass synth and snapping percussion with a panicky high synth keeping pace, overlaid with the expected bass drum pairs and werewolf hisses. The beat lapses into half speed and back again to follow the action in a most pleasing way. The main Bus Conductor cue, meanwhile, features an extremely cheeky "ding! ding!" motif that I'm rather fond of.
• Following the prevailing trend for providing background muzak in addition to the incidental music, Ayres rustles up three circus tunes for use in the ring, in the vestibule of the big top and in exterior scenes just outside the vestibule. Two of these are executed in calliope and snare drum, and are easily recognised as distortions of popular circus tunes. The tune heard in the ring in Part One is clearly based on an inversion of the melody of "Entry of the Gladiators" by Julius Fučík - it can also be heard in Part Four, very faintly and played backwards, when the Doctor walks across the dimensions to the ancient circus and in subsequent scenes in the vestibule. A spoof of "The Liberty Bell" by John Philip Sousa is playing in the background of scenes in the vestibule in Part Two. The third tune, heard on the junkbot's promotional video in Part One and in the ring when characters are led out to be sacrificed in Parts Three and Four, is a bit of a mystery - it sounds rather like the raucous "trombone smear" pieces made popular by the famous circus march composer Henry Fillmore, but your humble blogger can't nail down the specific inspiration for Ayres' tune. Answers on a spinning plate.
• There's one bit of diegetic music in Part Four not included in Ayres' score, and that's a stock recording of Ethelbert Nevin's "Narcissus" in the scene of the Doctor performing conjuring tricks. The DVD production subtitles reveal that the use of this tune was specified in the script. "Narcissus" is a light piano piece once popular with comedians, stage magicians and other light entertainers.
• During the troubled making of Greatest Show, members of the cast kept their spirits up by recording a song about the story. "The Psychic Circus" was produced by Ayres, featured vocals from Christopher Guard and Jessica Martin, and included a middle section in which TP McKenna does what can only be described as "the Vincent Price bit". It was offered to BBC Records, but they declined - perhaps they didn't want to crowd the market while The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album was on sale. The song can be found among the extras on the DVD.

Vox pop
Having character sounds pop up every time the relevant characters do seems like a somewhat over-literal approach to incidental composition, but somehow it works. This is a fantastically rich score, extremely listenable on its own and the perfect complement to the TV episodes. It's easily my favourite of Mark Ayres' three DW scores, and one of my overall favourites.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.
• A soundtrack CD for this story was released by Silva Screen Records in 1992. For the CD release, Ayres stripped out the background "circus muzak" from the main cues, and presented complete versions of the three muzak tunes as separate tracks.

45 - Silver Nemesis

Composer: Keff McCulloch
Director: Chris Clough

What's the score?
Keff McCulloch dishes up a somewhat similar score for the Cybermen to the one he provided for the Daleks earlier this season. (In his defence, the stories are pretty similar too, and I'm tempted to follow up my comments about Malcolm Clarke's Davison-era scores and the interchangeability of the two DW monsters.) Once again the score is characterised by the heavy use of percussion with horns for the villains, which in this case means both the Cybermen and Herr de Flores' neo-Nazis; the synth choir makes a modest reappearance in some villain scenes and a raucous comeback in the scene of the Nemesis statue awakening in Part Three. McCulloch does introduce some new sounds as well - most notable are the weird distorted synth chords and rattling noises heard in the scene in Part Three in which Ace talks to the Nemesis statue.

Musical notes

• The directors of the 1960s Cyberman stories used the take-no-prisoners brass library tune "Space Adventure" by Martin Slavin; Carey Blyton used a touch of funereal organ music in the 1970s; Malcolm Clarke set the standard for the 1980s stories by layering the sound of a metal girder being beaten over a growling synth march. How does Keff McCulloch introduce the Cybermen in Silver Nemesis? With a tinkly march that makes the metal monsters sound like clockwork soldiers. This debuts in the lead-in to the Part One cliffhanger, but isn't reprised in Part Two as an entirely different cue (one with plenty of synth choir) is substituted as a lead-in to the story's big gunfight. However, there are hints of it in several later cues.
• The other contender for McCulloch's defining Cyber-cue is the blaring two note, three note sequence introduced in Part Two in the scenes of the Cybermen relocating their spaceship. The two-three rhythm recurs in some later Cyberman cues in the story, but overall these are outnumbered by cues that use the clockwork motif.
• Lady Peinforte and Richard, the time travellers from the Caroline era, are represented throughout by the harpsichord. McCulloch provides a "ticking clock" rhythm for the scene in Part One in which they travel from 1638 to the present day in Part One. Actually, this isn't far removed from the Cybermen's clockwork motif - is McCulloch trying to suggest a connection? We get a couple of very lovely harpsichord cues later in Part One when the Doctor and Ace nip back in time to nose around Lady Peinforte's home - the second of these adds a pleasant oboe melody that seems, strangely, to include a small quote from the main theme from Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake". 
• McCulloch indulges in a couple of small theme-referencing moments in this story. The first comes in Part Two when the Doctor and Ace find the two skinheads who were earlier tied up in a field by Richard. He asks "Who did this to you?", they reply "Social workers!", and McCulloch slips out an "oo-wee-oo" over the Doctor's bemused expression. A more substantial bassline quote with two "oo-wee-oos" can be found near the end of Part Two as the Doctor observes a small tree lizard crawling out from under a leaf and deduces that the Cybermen's space fleet must be hidden from view. The ponderous tempo of the cue reflects the Doctor's laborious thought processes in this scene.
• As jazz not only features in but plays a part in this story - a recording of a jam session being used to jam the Cybermen's communications - McCulloch, with his known love of Latin jazz, would seem an obvious choice of composer. And yet there isn't much evidence of jazz influences in his score - all the actual jazz heard in the story was provided by special guest Courtney Pine and his band, either in front of the camera in Part One or on tape later in the story. (Contrary to the blurb on the back of the DVD, you will not be able to hear "the jazz styling that flummoxed the Cybermen" while listening to the isolated score.) There is, however, more than a hint in a rejected cue from Part Two, which would have seen Lady Peinforte and Richard strolling down a street in Windsor to an absurdly cheery daytime TV-esque air on synth flute. This was replaced with a more earnest, conventional piece, but the rejected cue can be heard on the photo gallery for this story's DVD release.
• It was during this story that Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred filmed the links for a two-minute trailer for Season 25, for which McCulloch composed a new piece of music. It's of interest to this blog, as the trailer music was included in The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album, under the cryptic track title of "8891 Royale". It wouldn't do much good to describe this piece in detail - it's a patchwork of wildly disparate elements, which I suppose reflects the nature of the trailer, although it's worth just mentioning the unexpected burst of upright piano in the middle - but the overall effect is of being attacked by a hyperactive child with a mallet.

Vox pop
As I've suggested, there isn't much to choose between this season's two Keff McCulloch scores. This one's probably the better of them - the action scenes aren't much different from those in Remembrance of the Daleks with their heavy percussion under synth strings and horns, but the score for Silver Nemesis distinguishes itself in other areas, notably with the harpsichord and oboe cues mentioned above and with the weird shrieking sounds used in some scenes of the active Nemesis statue. It's less even than the Remembrance score, but more interesting because of that.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.

44 - The Happiness Patrol

Composer: Dominic Glynn
Director: Chris Clough

What's the score?
Dominic Glynn returns to provide his annual score (sadly, one a year from Glynn is all we'll get in these final years of the '80s). Musically, this is an unusual story for DW, and Glynn appears to relish the challenge - he recalls on the DVD commentary how delighted he was to be asked to score a DW story in which music played such an integral part.
Two key cultural influences are at work within this story: the blues and film noir, although the director was prevented from making very much of the latter. Glynn nods towards the film noir element with several minor key piano phrases, but musically he's able to make far more out of the blues angle, and this score is liberally seasoned with melancholic harmonica. The harmonica was played by guest musician Adam Burney, who did his best to provide something in line with Glynn's requirements that would nevertheless match up with the visible breathing and hand movements of actor Richard D Sharp in those scenes where Burney was required to dub diegetic material.

Musical notes

• As part of the incidental music, the harmonica is heard almost immediately in Part One, wailing and snarling as Silas P moves to entrap a miserable woman on the streets of Terra Alpha. The first bit of diegetic harmonica turns up about halfway through the episode, when Earl Sigma is first seen strolling down an otherwise empty street. It's at this point that the score's main harmonica theme is introduced, a relatively straightforward upward and then downward sequence of notes. Variations on this are heard through the rest of the story, including several provided by Glynn's synths - there's a particularly lovely flute version in Part One when Susan Q helps Ace to escape from the Happiness Patrol's headquarters. A full orchestral swell backs up the harmonica in the final cues of Part Three.
• As with Dragonfire, Glynn produces no fewer than three pieces of muzak to give some variety to the sounds of Radio Terra Alpha. The most prominent (and horribly earwormy) of these is a hyperactive xylophone tune over airy synth chords with muted trumpet accents. It's playing in the Forum Square when the TARDIS arrives in Part One, and pops up frequently thereafter - Earl Sigma even mimics it on the harmonica when he's surprised by the Happiness Patrol. A sort of synth calypso tune is very briefly heard just before the TARDIS' arrival, and is heard at greater length in the Waiting Zone in Part Three. The third piece, which plays in the Waiting Zone while the Doctor and Ace are there in Part One, is a slow, cowboy-esque tune in synth violins and a kind of whistling sound. It's strangely mournful; you can practically hear the howling of small dogs in it - however did it get past Terra Alpha's censors?
• Time for the obligatory mention of a DW theme reference - there's a burst of the theme tune's bassline in Part One as the Doctor and Ace are escorted into the Waiting Zone. 
• The Kandy Man has a special theme of his own, a fairgroundy oom-pa-pa in an eerie high-pitched glassy synth voice. It's first heard before he appears, in the scene in which Helen A and Gilbert M discuss what he's cooking up for that night's public execution. Glynn serves up a particularly grandiose version with trumpets and violins for the scene in which the Kandy Man first appears in his Kandy Kitchen, arranging the execution in Part One, and again in Part Three when he's killed in the pipes with his own fondant.
• One odd element of the soundtrack: for the scenes of the factory Drones marching through the streets in Parts Two and Three, there's a literal humming drone. At one point, this humming seems to take on a variant melody of the main harmonica theme.

Vox pop
This is a real high point for Dominic Glynn, and while I'd be hard pressed to say that it's the best of the Sylvester McCoy era scores (although that's a measure of the general high quality of this era's music, not a slight against Glynn), it's as good an example as any we've had of the incidental music working in partnership with the story. More than this, it's a rare instance of the music taking up the slack from other areas of the story's production that were compromised by time and budgetary constraints. With his perky, saccharine muzak, Glynn helps to build the world of Terra Alpha; with his sinister piano cues, he nails the director's vision of a DW film noir; with Adam Burney's harmonica, he provides the heart of the story. That this score is so enjoyable in isolation is just the icing on the Kandy cake.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.

43 - Remembrance of the Daleks

Composer: Keff McCulloch
Director: Andrew Morgan

What's the score?
Once again Keff McCulloch is assigned to compose the music for the season opener (and he'll do the same next season as well). This is a very percussion-heavy score, as we might perhaps expect for a story featuring the British Army versus the Daleks. McCulloch leans heavily on the synth drum fills - this is a bit of a risky move for a lover of Latin music, and the scene of the Doctor and Ace escaping from the Renegade Daleks in Ratcliffe's yard in Part Three veers perilously close to carnival territory. A more positive result of all this percussiveness is that the score meshes well with the sound effects, to the extent that a lot of the battle scene cues sound a bit bare without Dalek gunfire and explosions going off in the middle of them.
Other prominent elements of this score include the synth choir and horns, some anxious flute and xylophone, sinister violins and a fair amount of pitchbending (most notably in the Part Two cliffhanger).

Musical notes

• One thing every viewer is sure to notice is the repeated music-box motif that plays whenever the sinister schoolgirl is seen watching other characters. It follows the tune of the song she sings to herself while playing hopscotch early on in Part One - it's not "One, two, buckle my shoe", but it's in a similar vein. The actual tune used is the familiar nyah-nyah-nee-nyah-nyah playground chant, often rendered as "I know something you don't know" - and sure enough, she does know something the other characters don't know...
• As mentioned above, synth choir plays a large part in this score. The ultimate expression of this is the all-out screaming, augmented with synth strings, that plays over the Dalek point-of-view shots in Part One. Could this be considered a forerunner of the choral chanting used in Murray Gold's scores for post-2005 Dalek stories?
• It's possible to pick out a theme for the Daleks, or something very like one, in the scenes of Imperial Daleks arriving on the transmat in the school basement in Part Two - a few growling bass synth notes over some understated drum beats. It's ponderous but business-like - stately, perhaps. Variants pop up in Part Three when Ratcliffe delivers the Hand of Omega to the Renegade Daleks, and with added orchestra hits when the Daleks then emerge from their hiding place and kill Ratcliffe's men. A similar but more triumphant piece with synth horns can be heard in Part Four when the Imperial Special Weapons Dalek makes its presence felt in the fray, and again as the Imperial Daleks, having captured the Hand of Omega, take their prize back to their shuttle. 
• There's a lovely piece in church organ and airy synths, punctuated by a tolling bell, as the Doctor supervises the burial of the Hand of Omega in Part Two. It's reprised as the final cue of the story in Part Four, with everyone filing into the church for Mike's funeral, but the reprise doesn't include the "oo-wee-oo" theme reference in a high, fluting synth that appears in the Part Two cue over a comment about the Doctor having regenerated.
• It's worth mentioning the piece that accompanies the scene of the Headmaster and Mike wrestling in the churchyard in Part Two, as this cue has seen some rather unusual exposure. An earnest opening section in strings with a steady beat and some churchyardy chain and bell accents leads into a frenetic middle section of string and xylophone synths over an extended drum fill; with a wail, it moves into a slower section with sustained organ notes and some more bell accents as the Headmaster is left for dead. Not only was this cue picked for inclusion in The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album, it was featured in The Making of Doctor Who, an American documentary actually about the 25th anniversary story Silver Nemesis. Here McCulloch can be seen (about 10 minutes and 50 seconds in) demonstrating what happens when he replaces the main synth melody from the middle section with party sounds.
• The light orchestral composition "Puffin' Billy" (remember it from Delta and the Bannermen?) is heard - apparently diegetically - when Ace turns on the guest house TV set in Part Two, shortly before a BBC continuity announcer gives the time as 5:15pm and introduces a certain brand-new science fiction drama serial. As previously noted, this bit of music was used as the theme for a popular BBC radio programme, but it seems strange and unlikely that it should have been played on TV over a BBC ident to kill three minutes of airtime at the end of a Saturday afternoon's sports coverage. Your humble blogger can't be sure, however, and welcomes comment from anyone who actually remembers watching TV in Britain in 1963. It may be meant for our ears only, to set up the post-war "old days" moment of Ace discovering the racist sign hanging in Mrs Smith's window.
• There are a number of less puzzling diegetic pieces included in the score. The burst of taped hard rock issuing from Ace's ghetto blaster at the start of Part One is McCulloch's work, as is the jazzy percussion stuff the ghetto blaster picks up in Part Two when Ace scrambles the tuner after accidentally picking up some Dalek radio transmissions. The cover of the Elvis Presley hit "Return to Sender" playing on the jukebox in Harry's café in Part One was recorded by McCulloch with a session vocalist, while the cover of The Shadows' "Apache" heard in Part Three is all his own work. All of these are included in the DVD's isolated music track, except for "Return to Sender" - could there have been a rights issue with the vocalist, or even with Presley's estate?
• Songs by the Beatles heard in Harry's café in the broadcast episodes and on the Special Edition DVD - "Do You Want to Know a Secret" in Part One and "A Taste of Honey" in Part Three - are the originals, and not included in the isolated score for obvious reasons. (On the original DVD release and international pressings of the Special Edition, they were replaced altogether with sound-alike library tunes.) Amusingly, neither song was released by the Beatles as a single in the UK, so what they're doing on Harry's jukebox is anyone's guess.

Vox pop
The Daleks are a bombastic DW monster, Keff McCulloch is a bombastic composer - this ought to be a shoo-in. There's hardly anyone better qualified to compose for this story, and by any reasonable standard this score is certainly a success. But it's missing the colour and the wildness of his Season 24 scores - McCulloch's retained and accentuated the solid beats, but toned everything else down. Perversely, that makes this score more popular with DW fans who are otherwise disparaging of his work, but for me it's a bit disappointing. This is where McCulloch stops being the voice of the weird knockabout caper and becomes the voice of the gung-ho pitched-battle action story, and I can't say I'm as fond of the latter as I am of the former.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.
• The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album included two tracks from this story: "Cemetery Chase", an extended version of the piece from Part Two that McCulloch played on the American documentary; and "A Child's Return", a cue from the denouement in Part Four of the Doctor talking the Black Dalek to death and the schoolgirl collapsing.

42 - Dragonfire

Composer: Dominic Glynn
Director: Chris Clough

What's the score?
At last, some musical variety! The late replacement of the score for Paradise Towers leaves this as the only story in Season 24 not scored by Keff McCulloch. Dominic Glynn's fondness hitherto for tinkly and chimey sounds (as heard during Season 23) makes him an obvious choice to compose the music for a story set on an ice planet. (Dick Mills assists with a lovely background atmosphere for the "Singing Caves", which was included on the Doctor Who - 30 Years at the Radiophonic Workshop sound effects release.) To the anticipated crystalline noises, Glynn adds a range of sounds that suggest howling Antarctic winds - there's plenty of synth flute and airy gliding sounds throughout, and some lower croaky synths that tend to show up in particularly eerie or villainous moments.

Musical notes

• The chief villain, Kane, gets his own signature sound: a highly melodramatic pipe organ. There's a main five-note theme - four notes and a sting, really - that's first heard early in Part One when a mercenary stumbles into Kane's icy lair. (It's immediately followed by some of those low, croaky sounds when Kane plunges his hand into liquid nitrogen to retrieve the mercenary's dropped gun.) Variations on this theme, or other more grandiose organ phrases, are heard in scenes of Kane killing people, retiring to his Absolute Zero sarcophagus, or gloating in triumph. There's a reprise that builds into a discordant pile-up in his death scene in Part Three.
• The pipe organ is strongly suggestive of cinematic horror. The obvious association is with the 1925 and 1962 adaptations of The Phantom of the Opera, although Kane is more often likened to Dracula - lean, pale, very long-lived, appears to sleep in a coffin, doesn't like sunlight. (For some reason, the Internet seems to associate Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor - remember it from Attack of the Cybermen? - with Dracula, although there's no cinematic precedent for this at all.) It's worth noting that Dragonfire's script is laden with references to film theorists, historians and characters - it's entirely appropriate for Glynn to join in with some cinematic gestures of his own.
• A wistful theme in high synth strings and flute is played over model shots of the planet Svartos and of Glitz's ship leaving it. It's a charming piece that helps to sell the model shots to the viewer. Another melancholic flute cue is used in scenes of Kane's unhappy minions plotting against him.
• Other cues echo the melodrama of Kane's organ theme. Your humble blogger could mention the earnest "action movie" bass guitar and cabasa stuff heard in one scene of Kane's staff "bug hunting" in Part Three, or the metallic thumping steps used throughout for the zombie mercenaries, but the real stand-out is the piece that plays when the dragon appears at the end of Part One. It sounds a bit like the sort of staccato histrionics you'd hear being played on the violin in a Hitchcock film, except that it sounds as if it's being banged out on an antique upright piano. 
• Glynn proves to be the master of muzak in the Sylvester McCoy era, and here provides three distinct pieces of diegetic music for the scenes in the Iceworld cantina in Part One. All of them feature the icy, tinkly sound of the glockenspiel: the first piece includes high, airy synths and the flute; the second loses the flute and sticks to the glock and synths; the third takes a strange detour through the warmer musical territory of the trumpet and guitar. The second of these three tunes is only briefly heard in Part One, but makes a return appearance in Part Three in the scene of zombie mercenaries storming through the Iceworld complex and driving the customers out of the cantina.
• The most appropriate instrument of all, the crystallophone, is finally heard near the end of Part Three when Mel announces her departure. The crystallophone, or glass harmonica, sounds like a set of wine glasses being played with a wet finger, and produces sound through crystalline resonance in much the same way - it's rather like a huge, rotating, conical wine glass on its side. What we have here is probably a synth imitation, mind you. The cue opens with a DW theme reference, a little "oo-wee-oo", before - like Mel herself - heading off in another direction.

Vox pop
This is a very theatrical score, which makes it a fair match for the theatricality of the TV episodes it was composed for. In isolation, it has its moments, charming and trying by turns. It is, of course, another solid piece of work from Dominic Glynn, but I wouldn't say it's Glynn's best DW score, or the best of this season. The in-your-face organ music is amusing at first, but outstays its welcome soon enough. The good news, and the important thing, is that it's never less than interesting.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.
• An abridged version of this score was made available for a brief time on the Doctor Who Appreciation Society (DWAS) release Black Light: The Doctor Who Music of Dominic Glynn, alongside Glynn's music from The Mysterious Planet and The Ultimate Foe.

41 - Delta and the Bannermen

Composer: Keff McCulloch
Director: Chris Clough

What's the score?
Much of this story is set in Wales in 1959 ("the rock 'n' roll years!"), so '50s rock and earlier tunes that were popular at the time feature heavily. This being DW, aliens also feature prominently, and for scenes of extra-terrestrial mayhem the order of the day is bombastic synth foolery in a very similar vein to the previous two musical scores. Keff McCulloch was approached to work on this story as well as Time and the Rani; in fact, he was required to work on this story before/during filming as well as in post-production, as we will shortly see. However, the sudden commission to provide the music for Paradise Towers complicated matters and left McCulloch with (at a guess) less than a month before transmission to finish the Delta and the Bannermen score.

Musical notes

• A substantial part of McCulloch's contribution to this story was recording covers of various vocal and instrumental pieces of 1950s music for diegetic use; producing new versions of these tunes presumably saved the production office a small fortune in royalty fees. The vocal items were recorded by "The Lorells", a studio ensemble whose backing singers, the Wilson Sisters, included McCulloch's fiancée. McCulloch himself played the Fender Stratocaster electric guitar, the instrument made famous by Buddy Holly. Some of these songs were required for the filming of Part One itself, in which "The Lorells" (and McCulloch!) appear in character behind Billy the singing mechanic at the Shangri-La Holiday Camp Get To Know You Dance. The Millennium Effect website has a full list of the items covered, but it's worth going through that list and pointing out the context in which each is used:
• "Singing the Blues", "Why Do Fools Fall in Love" and "Mr Sandman" are performed at the dance in Part One, with "Mr Sandman" continuing over a camp tannoy as the Doctor follows Ray to the laundry store. The band are miming, so presumably these three songs would have been recorded before filming even started. The two big questions are, were all of the vocal covers recorded up front, and were any of them actually played back on set? There's a good chance that at least one of them was, because...
• "Rock Around the Clock" plays on the Navarino tour bus sound system earlier in Part One, and the alien tourists all sing and boogie along to it.
• "Goodnight Campers", a holiday camp repurposing of "Goodnight Sweetheart", is heard over the Shangri-La tannoys early in Part Two, when Billy brings flowers to Delta's room. Presumably the vocalist is the same yellowcoat seen crooning "When the Red, Red Robin" into a microphone the next morning.
• "That'll Be the Day", "Only You" and "Lollipop" are all heard over the radio at Goronwy's house in Part Three.
• "Who's Sorry Now" seems to be playing on Billy's record player as he packs his bags in Part Three. Having said which, there's no indication that Billy or the Doctor are actually listening to the record player in that scene, and it'd be a pretty odd choice of song anyway.
• "Happy Days Are Here Again" is blaring out of the speakers of the tour bus that arrives at Shangri-La at the very end of Part Three.
• Now on to the instrumental numbers. "Calling All Workers" is heard on the radio of Hawk and Weismuller's car when we first see them in Part One. "Calling All Workers" was composed by Eric Coates as the opening and closing theme of the BBC radio programme Music While You Work, which was broadcast twice daily on working days at the time this story is set - so we know Part One is set on a weekday.
• "Puffin' Billy" is playing over the Shangri-La tannoys when the Navarino bus arrives in Part One. "Puffin' Billy", a steam-train-themed composition, was used as the theme for the Saturday morning BBC radio show Children's Favourites - it wasn't specifically composed for it, so the camp staff might well have a copy for their own use on a weekday afternoon, but there's a timing problem if we're supposed to believe they've left the PA system tuned to the BBC Light Programme. Incidentally, we haven't heard the last of this tune in DW.
• "Parade of the Tin Soldiers" plays over the tannoy immediately after this in the same scene. Composed in 1897, it was used as the theme for one of many serials on the BBC's Children's Hour radio programme, broadcast daily in the evenings at the time this story is set; but it appears here directly after another tune with no commentary in between from a DJ or continuity announcer. This further suggests that we're not hearing a radio broadcast, and the staff just happen to have copies of both records.
• "In Party Mood" can be heard playing over the PA system in the Shangri-La dining room as the campers settle down to what is presumably their tea. This was used as the theme for another BBC radio programme, Housewives' Choice, which went out on weekday mornings, but again the composition pre-dates the BBC's use of the tune, and it's easier all round to assume that this is another item taken from the holiday camp's record library.
• Finally, "The Devil's Galop" is not heard diegetically, but is worked into the incidental music as part of a chase scene in Part Three. It's teased with some rather arch horn music in Part Two, and intercut with a variety of camp "chase scene" cues in both episodes. "The Devil's Galop" was used as the theme for the BBC radio drama serial Dick Barton - Special Agent between 1946 and 1951, but is best known through its terminal overuse since then in decades of imitations and parodies. It's instantly recognisable as That Chase Scene Music. McCulloch really didn't have to use it in a chase scene in a story set in 1959, but it's not out of place.
• In among an assortment of generic pop/rock incidental cues in this story, there are definite Shadows homages in two cues: the brooding low guitar piece heard as the bounty hunter Keillor contacts Gavrok in Part One, and the more lively guitar piece with "surf" licks that plays as the Doctor drives up to parley with the Bannermen in Part Two. The key work here is "Apache", a massive breakthrough hit for the Shadows, which includes sections that resemble both of these cues. (We haven't heard the last of this piece of music either.) The Shadows' career was only just beginning in 1959, around the time this story is set, and "Apache" wasn't released until 1960, so the references are anachronistic; then again, both scenes do centre on characters from the future.
• There's another musical reference in the droll bass guitar phrase that follows Keillor's sudden death, accompanying a shot of his smoking (what else?) blue suede shoes. It sounds a little bit like a slowed and pitched down version of the lead guitar licks from the middle eight of Buddy Holly's cover of "Blue Suede Shoes", although this would be anachronistic - Holly's cover must have been recorded before his death in February 1959, but wasn't compiled and released until 1964. It's more probably a reference to Henry Mancini's theme from Peter Gunn, an American series about a jazz-loving private detective. Peter Gunn first aired in America in 1958; as far as I've been able to find out, it was broadcast in the UK but not until the '60s.
• One last anachronism worth considering is the decidedly modern rockin' electric guitar in the scene of the Doctor helping Billy to wire up the holiday camp's PA system to defeat the Bannermen in Part Three. We could excuse this one too, but it's much more of a stretch than the other, rather borderline examples. At the same time, it's not outlandish enough to be passed off as one of McCulloch's "outer space stuff" cues.
• McCulloch's final concession to the story's period setting is a cheesy doo-wop ballad that accompanies the scene of everyone farewelling Delta and Billy. It's an original composition, but as a vocal piece it features "The Lorells" in their only non-diegetic performance in this story. The Wilson Sisters do the heavy lifting with their "ooo wah wa-oooo" refrain, while the lead vocals are provided by a woman (your humble blogger suspects it's McCulloch's fiancée pulling double duty) singing "Here's to the future" and "Love is the answer" with an accent that's strangely upmarket for this type of song.
• The usual synth shennanigans are saved for scenes of alien activity, and indeed it sometimes feels as if McCulloch has saved three full episodes' worth of bombast for these cues. Some of them seem to be composed entirely out of orchestra hits, notably the cues at the start and end of Part One (pitched battle on an alien world between Bannermen and Chimerons; a green space baby hatches out of Delta's egg). It's as if he's purging them all out of his system so that he can focus on the '50s material elsewhere.

Vox pop
This story isn't a favourite of mine, but there's plenty of interest in McCulloch's score. In places it's horribly cheesy, and in others it's ridiculously hyperactive, but between these extremes there's some great material.
Looking ahead, it's remarkable how much more diverse and interesting McCulloch's Season 24 scores are when compared with his later DW work. It's doubly remarkable in light of the difficult circumstances under which these scores were composed - first the late nights working on Time and the Rani, then composing Paradise Towers in scarcely more than a week, and then playing catch-up on this demanding story. Did he do his best incidental composing when under pressure and deprived of sleep? Your humble blogger is inclined to think so; McCulloch himself reportedly believes that Time and the Rani was his best DW score, so there may be something to it.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release does not include the isolated score for this story, but nearly eight and a half minutes of Keff McCulloch's music can be heard on the photo gallery.
• Five tracks from this story were included on The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album, most of them extended by doubling sections of the broadcast cues. "Gavrok's Search" is the piece that plays during the Bannermen's pursuit of Delta to the spaceport in Part One. "Burton's Escape" is a lively piece from the motorbike escape sequence in Part Three. "The Sting" is a concatenation of two pieces: the growling first part of the cue that plays when the Bannermen storm Goronwy's honey shed in Part Three, and the hard-rockin' final showdown cue. "The White Flag" is the opening cue from Part Three. And of course, "Here's to the Future" is the doo-wop song from the end of Part Three.

40 - Paradise Towers

Composer: Keff McCulloch
Director: Nicholas Mallett

What's the score?
David Snell was originally commissioned to provide the incidental music for this story on the basis of some sample cues that had met with producer John Nathan-Turner's approval. However, when the music for the last two episodes was delivered, Nathan-Turner had a change of heart and rejected the score. Thanks to the efforts of those involved in putting together the DVD release of this story, we can at last hear Snell's score for ourselves... and I'm with Nathan-Turner on this one. It doesn't help that Snell seems to have used just two synth voices throughout the entire thing. But then electronic composition isn't his usual medium - he's an orchestral composer/arranger first and foremost, and if we imagine the rejected score being performed by a chamber ensemble in the Dudley Simpson style, it makes a lot more sense. Unfortunately, there's no way DW's budget at this time would have stretched to hiring that many extra musicians.
Nathan-Turner now turned to Keff McCulloch, his go-to composer in a fix. McCulloch recalls in an interview on the DVD that he was told to put on hold his work for Delta and the Bannermen, which he had begun at this point, and to focus on composing a new score for Paradise Towers in the alarmingly short time available to him. He claims to have completed the task in about a week, working as near to non-stop as he could, while the DVD production subtitles assert that the final score was delivered just two days before Part One was broadcast. By way of comparison, DW composers might ordinarily expect to have upwards of a week to compose and record the music for a single episode.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the sound palette for this score is very similar to that used for Time and the Rani, with some moments even copied across directly (the sound used for Tetrap point-of-view shots in the previous story is recycled here as underpinning for a couple of sinister moments in Part Two). McCulloch still manages to provide a lot of engaging new content, but as Part Four rolls around, the round-the-clock toil seems to be taking its toll, with an increasing proportion of the music sounding as though it was created on the spot in direct reaction to what happens on screen.

Musical notes

• Perhaps the most memorable piece of incidental music from this story is the theme used for the Cleaner robots in Parts One and Two. It's an ebullient, knockabout piece in synth horns - it's often criticised by DW fans for being over-the-top, but aesthetically it's of a piece with the bright, chunky robot props themselves. Your humble blogger is happy to accept the premise that the Cleaners are supposed to look like that, and to accept the musical cue accordingly. In Parts Three and Four, however, it is usurped by another theme...
• The theme used throughout for the Caretakers is a weary succession of soft chords over an uneven beat in 7/4 time, with light percussion ornamentation. Like the Caretakers themselves, it sounds dogged but dog-tired. Variations of it with more ornamentation pop up here and there - there's one in Part Four that adds a curious selection of metallic sounds to punctuate the gestures of a stalking party of Kangs. It's also heard over the first scene of a robotic Cleaner in Part Three, following which it's an even bet whether the Cleaners will get the Caretaker theme or an entirely different bit of music in any given scene. There's no Caretaker in that scene in Part Three - not even a dead one sticking out of the Cleaner's skip attachment. Did McCulloch forget he had that other theme ready, in the general rush to get the score completed? Was it the result of sleep deprivation? Or did he simply lose confidence in the Cleaner theme, too late to remove it from the first two episodes?
• It's more than usually easy to spot - or think you've spotted - the influence of pop music in this score. The merest hint of Go West's "We Close Our Eyes" (1985) in the Cleaner theme? Or, for an even further stretch of the imagination, the chord progressions of Michael Jackson's "Rock With You" (1979) in the hyperactive piece that plays over the denouement as Pex steels himself to barge the Chief Caretaker into a room full of explosives? Who knows what might have been going through McCulloch's mind towards the end of that week? But the most striking likeness is to another TV show - listen to the shambling 7/4 of the Caretaker theme in Part One, as the ill-fated Caretaker #345/12 sub3 walks his beat with walkie-talkie in hand, and you're sure to think of the theme tune from hit ITV cop series The Bill. (Later versions of The Bill's theme are even more McCulloch-friendly - the 2003 version even includes his beloved orchestra hits - but the versions in force between 1984 and 1987 show that off-kilter beat just as clearly.) 
• Two diegetic pieces are featured in Part Three. The first is the strings-and-flute-led tune used as background music for the Paradise Towers promotional video brochure that the Doctor is seen watching at various points; it has the earnestness typical of this sort of promotional film. The other is the calming lounge muzak, all high, stretched-out synth chords and smug piano, heard in the swimming pool zone when Mel and Pex finally arrive there. It's also briefly and quietly heard near the start of Part Four, just before the Pool Cleaner attacks Mel.
• Once again, McCulloch plays around with the DW theme tune, referencing it extensively in this score. The first and biggest of these references is the pair of cues that frame the lengthy scene in Part Two of the Doctor being held prisoner by the Caretakers. It's an airy muzak arrangement of the theme - although there's no suggestion that it's supposed to play diegetically as muzak - quite fitting for this scene of characters forced to wait around at length, and quite lovely. Later in Part Two there's a more "action shot" use of the bassline and a brief "oo-wee-oo" in a scene of the Doctor escaping down a corridor. Lastly, the final cue of Part Four quotes the melody of the theme tune in a wistful way as the Doctor and Mel sneak off to the TARDIS.

Vox pop
This is an incidental score that I remember from first transmission - the repeated Cleaner and Caretaker themes stuck with me for some time afterwards - and it still gives me enormous pleasure. Considered in hindsight next to the other scores of Season 24, it's much less polished, and for obvious reasons. Still, there's something to be said for musical rawness as an accompaniment to this particular story.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release does not include the isolated score for this story, although it does include the option to watch the broadcast episodes with David Snell's score instead of Keff McCulloch's. The photo gallery features only four and a half minutes of McCulloch's music.
• The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album included six tracks taken from Paradise Towers. "Towers El Paradiso" is the muzak heard in the swimming pool in Part Three. "Drinksmat Dawning" is the piece heard in Part Two as the Doctor introduces the Red Kangs to fizzy pop ("soda", if you're American). "Newsreel Past" is the background music from the Paradise Towers promotional brochure. "Guards of Silence" features a burst of the Cleaner theme followed by the DW theme pastiche heard in the scene of the Doctor in custody in Part Two. "The Making of Pex" is the boisterous cue from the scene in Part Four in which Pex sacrifices himself. Lastly, "Goodbye Doctor", the final cue of the story.

39 - Time and the Rani

Composer: Keff McCulloch
Director: Andrew Morgan

What's the score?
Brace yourselves - here comes Keff McCulloch. A controversial figure among orthodox DW fandom, he here presents the first of six DW scores. Three of them run in succession in this season of DW, making McCulloch the only composer apart from Dudley Simpson, Murray Gold and Segun Akinola to provide the incidental music for three consecutive stories. His arrangement of the theme tune also debuts in this story.
McCulloch seems to have tackled the theme arrangement as a one-off job. At the time he was approached to compose the incidentals for Time and the Rani, he had other commercial work on the go. He recalls on his website that he continued to focus on his other commitments by day and worked on Time and the Rani in a series of caffeine-fuelled night shifts. So begins an unfolding saga of sleep deprivation for Keff McCulloch in the summer of 1987.
It may be revealing to note that the two major elements of McCulloch's current concert repertoire are classic pop/rock and Latin jazz - these seem to have been passions of his in the '80s as well, and fun can be had spotting the moments when they poke through in his work, even when the story doesn't require it. Contemporary synth pop is clearly a heavy influence on his work for DW. He also uses much of the same musical equipment as German electronica pioneers Tangerine Dream - the similarity in the timbre of certain synth voices in his and their work is obvious, even to listeners who aren't interested in the specific brand names - but it's not immediately clear whether they're a compositional influence on him.

McCulloch favours rhythmically four-square cues with a firm beat, high-pitched drones and synth choir (quite the hot sound in the late '80s and '90s), horns and as much percussion as he can muster, and the skitterish sorts of sound that scream "computer!" to anyone who grew up in the '80s. He's rather fond of using high synth stabs (or "orchestra hits") to punctuate his cues or to emphasise moments of sudden physical activity on-screen.

Musical notes

• For reasons that remain unclear, McCulloch provided several sound effects for Time and the Rani. (Fanecdotal accounts variously suggest a misunderstanding, or that Dick Mills was unable to do all the sound effects and McCulloch had to fill in.) These include the cluster of sounds that accompany the opening effects shots as the Rani attacks the TARDIS, which are listed as musical cues in the BBC's Programme-as-Completed documentation. The P-as-C also suggests the "Screen" background and "Klaxon" heard in Part Three and the sounds of the Rani's "Supernova" demonstration in Part Four were McCulloch's.
• Next, the Doctor's regeneration. McCulloch starts as he means to go on, with a bold and slightly discordant phrase in mid-range piano and high twinkling synths; this leads into a pile-up of rising chords that's strangely reminiscent of Roger Limb's regeneration cue from The Caves of Androzani. There's no clear sign that McCulloch was a fan or long-term viewer of DW before he worked on this story, and it's anyone's guess whether John Nathan-Turner might have specifically pointed him towards the earlier regeneration scene in preparation for this, but it's certainly remarkable that both composers took such a similar approach to these similar events. It leads directly into the opening theme music.
• And so at last to the new theme arrangement, and here several changes are apparent. For a start, it's in the key of A minor, higher than any other arrangement before or since. The new title sequence is about a third longer than its predecessors, so McCulloch has had to move the furniture around somewhat. To stretch it out a bit, the "middle eight" section has been restored to the opening titles for the first time since the 1960s. However, to cut the length of the theme back down to fit, the intro bars have gone, and the theme now opens cold after the initial sonic and visual explosion. There's now an explosion and white-out to lead into the episode, but no explosion at the end of the closing titles, which instead fade out with an echo of metallic clashes as the chrome DW logo drifts off into the distance. The bassline is steady - stately, even - with the main melody picked out in slinky mid-range and jangly high-pitched synth voices; it sounds a little as though McCulloch is trying to emulate the sounds of the Derbyshire arrangement using only the presets on his modern synthesizer. Finishing touches are added by Dick Mills, who provides an assortment of whooshes to match the graphics of various objects being hurled across the screen.
• This blog has made a point of highlighting DW theme references in other composers' work, and this is the entry we've been building towards. Although McCulloch is far from the only or first DW composer to use the theme itself as material for his incidental music, in Season 24 he goes a lot further with it than anyone else, producing cues that could almost be considered new arrangements in their own right. He hardly touches it in the next two seasons - fanecdotal evidence suggests that he was warned off it for fear of having to pay royalties to Ron Grainer if the theme was overused, but I'm unable to point to a source for this. 
• Time and the Rani features two notable lengthy theme references. The first, a favourite of mine, is a quizzical and rather weary sounding version of the theme melody over an echoing drum that plays as the Doctor starts to wake up in his new body in Part One. The "hangover version", I like to call it. The other is an extended riff on the famous bassline in Part Four, as the Doctor runs around trying to foil the Rani's plans. A couple of other recurring elements of the score - a whistling air that accompanies outdoor scenes on the surface of the planet Lakertya and the sustained dischords that represent the giant Brain the Rani has created - are incorporated into this latter cue, reinforcing the feeling of the Doctor's plan bringing everything together. Less lengthy but notable in its own right is the theme reference that intrudes into the mournful scene in Part Two of Faroon discovering the skeleton of her daughter Sarn. The Doctor wasn't involved and is nowhere near that scene - what's the reference doing there? It's picked up again in Part Three when Sarn is mentioned in another scene that doesn't feature the Doctor.
• McCulloch really goes to town in embroidering the Doctor's costume change scene in Part One. Those character moments in full:
  
  • First, a drunken phrase in Gallic accordion for the Napoleonic tunic and hat. So far, so obvious.
  • A trumpet fanfare for the same tunic with a bearskin hat of the type worn by British Foot Guards.
  • A peal of bells for the mortarboard and schoolmaster's cloak - presumably meant to evoke a school bell, except that these change pitch and sound more like the bells of a clocktower.
  • A skittish burst of xylophone for Tom Baker's old costume from Season 18 - it captures some of Big Tom's eccentricity, certainly, but it's not necessarily the ideal complement for the costume from his gloomiest and most subdued year on the show. Perversely, a bit of pompous Dudley Simpson spoofing might have been a better fit (cf the VHS release of Shada).
  • An arch phrase in harpsichord for the Jon Pertwee costume, with its exaggerated frills.
  • A comedy "smashed window" sound effect for the moment when the Doctor poses with the Fifth Doctor's cricket bat.
  • Finally, a flourish on what sounds like a banjo as the Doctor appears wearing his Panama hat and the Second Doctor's large fur coat. As the DVD production subtitles suggest, the intended reference is probably to the music hall, as the Doctor at this particular moment looks uncannily like Bud Flanagan about to sing "Underneath the Arches". McCulloch uses the banjo again as a motif for the Doctor in the final farewell cue in Part Four, but doesn't carry this over into any subsequent stories.
• Diegetic music is nothing new in DW's incidental music, but it becomes quite a big thing in the Sylvester McCoy era - specifically, diegetic muzak, as piped through the imagined speakers and PA systems of alien worlds. McCulloch starts the ball rolling here with the background music that plays in the Lakertyan Centre of Leisure in Part Three. High hollow knocking percussion and twinkling synths provide the support for a reedy melody that sounds as if it's been extrapolated from a sample of somebody saying "Doh". There's a feeling here of the new composer pulling out the stops and showing off what his machinery can do, as there was with Peter Howell's unexpected sequencer moment in The Leisure Hive.
• McCulloch opens 'er up and lets 'er rip again in Part Four, with a plaintive fluting sound as the Lakertyans mourn the reprisal killing of one of their number in the Centre of Leisure. It isn't the sound of the pan pipes - it's the sound of a long Japanese bamboo pipe called the shakuhachi. Specifically, it's an electronic sample of a shakuhachi that was included as a preset on the E-Mu Emulator II synthesizer (it says here). Even more specifically, it's the exact same sample that Tangerine Dream used on their 1985 tune "Yellowstone Park". The shakuhachi sample had made a low-key appearance in 1986 on Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer", and would enjoy prominent mainstream exposure in 1990 on Enigma's "Sadeness (Part I)".

Vox pop
The chief objection DW fans tend to raise against Keff McCulloch's music is that it's "inappropriate". Your humble blogger regards this suggestion with frank disdain. McCulloch's cartoonish bombast is entirely appropriate to the comic-book aesthetic that script editor Andrew Cartmel wanted to introduce into the show at this time; it's also entirely in keeping with the kind of music British viewers would have heard on other TV programmes of the day. In this regard, it's no more out of place than Dudley Simpson's acoustic quartets in the '70s, or the Radiophonic Workshop's compositions on analogue and early digital synths in the early '80s. Of course, the commonality of this kind of sound at the time can lead to unfortunate comparisons - several of the cues in this score and the next are more reminiscent of contemporary daytime/lifestyle TV than of contemporary children's or dramatic programming. Then again, the scenes of the Rani carving up a sheet of plastic in her TARDIS workshop sound like something from a school science programme, an association which is just about perfect.
Really, the problem here isn't that McCulloch's score is too lurid for the story (just check out the visuals, for goodness' sake), it's that the plot isn't sufficiently engaging to keep the viewer's attention from wandering. Divorced from any narrative requirements, the music and the images would make a fair 90-minute pop video. Listened to in isolation (the bits that are available, anyway), I find the music fun and invigorating - there's just so much going on in there.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release does not include the isolated score for this story. The DVD photo gallery features a little over eight minutes of Keff McCulloch's music.
• In 1988, BBC Records released The Doctor Who 25th Anniversary Album as a showcase for McCulloch's incidental music, alongside the various theme arrangements to date. Two tracks from Time and the Rani were featured on this album: "Future Pleasure", the full three-minute version of the "doh" music heard inside the Centre of Leisure; and "The Brain", an extended reworking of the final cue from Part Three.