29 - Attack of the Cybermen

Composer: Malcolm Clarke
Director: Matthew Robinson

What's the score?
Malcolm Clarke returns and, for the last time, musical continuity is maintained across seasons. As it's a Cyberman story and Clarke scored the last one of those - and as Clarke scored the previous story Matthew Robinson directed - he's an obvious choice here. Unsurprisingly, the music he composed for Earthshock provides the model for some of this score, but there's plenty of new material thrown into the mix.

Musical notes

• As in The Twin Dilemma, the harpsichord represents the Doctor. Here we get a sort of bad-tempered clock chime alternating with jollier moments at the start of Part One - the Doctor's still having mood swings, but he's properly himself this time.
• One prominent recurring theme in this story is the one that introduces the bank heist gang - reintroduces, in the case of Lytton. Variations of it play in scenes featuring Lytton and/or members of his gang in the sewers and on Telos - there's a mournful version over his final appearance in Cyber Control. It's a strangely jaunty piece, intended perhaps to reinforce the idea that most of the gang are cheeky London wideboys caught out of their depth. (It starts to grate on my nerves pretty quickly, mind you.)
• The cue for Halley's Comet - stately horns over sparkly synths - that plays in both episodes is based on Clarke's own composition for the 1981 BBC programme The Comet Is Coming! This hour-long documentary featured inserts scripted by Nigel Calder that starred Tim Brooke-Taylor as Halley's ghost and Leo McKern as the Voice of the Comet. You couldn't make it up. The original four minute composition is included in the double CD release BBC Radiophonic Workshop: A Retrospective. 
• This is a score full of references - in this sense, it's well suited to a story so obsessed with in-series continuity. Besides the Comet cue, we have: the cue for the clone policemen reprised from Resurrection of the Daleks (which may or may not be based on a TV show theme tune); an obvious homage to the Steptoe & Son theme as the setting of IM Foreman's junk yard is introduced; and a phrase from JS Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor which the Doctor plays diegetically on the TARDIS in its temporary new form as a church organ, and which is continued in the incidental music as the Doctor and Peri explore the junk yard. Tat Wood, in About Time vol 6, suggests that Lytton's heist theme is intended as some sort of musical reference to Gangsters, another well-known BBC series to feature actor Maurice Colbourne. However, your humble blogger has watched all of Gangsters (so you don't have to) and can't hear any real musical resemblance. 
• Although Clarke makes extensive reference to his own score for Earthshock, he doesn't just quote cues but develops them as well. The famous March of the Cybermen is reprised liberally throughout the story, in its original form and with variations - there's a kind of "ultimate smackdown" version in Part Two when we get our first sight of the Cyber Tombs on Telos. It's also worth noting the six-note "time travel" motif that appeared in Earthshock when the freighter was slipping back in time, which is reprised here when the Cybermen force the Doctor to take them to their future base on Telos in the TARDIS.
• The delicate Cryons, liable to evaporate entirely if they get too warm, are represented by appropriately ethereal sounds throughout Part Two. Most of their cues consist of "wooo" sounds in down-up-down-up stepping sequences, with icy sparkling ornamentation. There are a couple of particularly lovely examples in the scenes of Flast preparing to sacrifice herself in order to blow up Cyber Control.
• This season of DW, and Attack of the Cybermen in particular, came in for heavy criticism of its violent content - could the incidental music have contributed to the critics' perception of the series? Clarke is certainly prone to lashing out musically whenever he sees a cliffhanger coming, and when the Doctor dispatches a Cyberman in this story, that too is accompanied by a particularly cacophonous cry of alarm from Clarke. The incidental music goes into a full-on killitkillitkillit! frenzy when the Doctor is cornered by the Cyber Controller and guns him down in Part Two - might this scene seem less shocking with different music?

Vox pop
If any story demands that Malcolm Clarke repeat himself, it's this one, so I can't really hold this score up as further evidence of staleness after his previous two. In fact, Clarke's work here is surprisingly fresh considering how reference-heavy it is. Season 22 is one of the most musically diverse seasons of DW - five different composers across six stories - and for my money, musically one of the best seasons, and this score gets it off to a good start.

Availability

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

28 - The Twin Dilemma

Composer: Malcolm Clarke
Director: Peter Moffatt

What's the score?
For the first and only time, Malcolm Clarke provides two scores in the same year. This one, like the one for Resurrection of the Daleks, is largely atmospheric and full of growling bass sounds. However, there are no grandiose moments of the sort that brightened up Clarke's previous scores, and dramatic moments are largely reserved for the cliffhangers and scenes in which the Doctor has a funny turn and attacks someone. This is a small, intimate score.

Musical notes

• Let's first take note of the theme tune, which has been tweaked, as has the title sequence. In response to the new showier reveal of the DW logo, Peter Howell has replaced his original faint washing sound with a noise that I like to call "the thunder ripple". This brasher logo sound is of a piece with the more colourful title sequence and the boisterous new Doctor. The thunder ripple will remain in place throughout the next season, following which we'll have a whole new theme arrangement to listen to.
• The backbone of The Twin Dilemma's incidental score is provided by a childlike waltzing motif that is repeated liberally throughout the story. It plays over the introductory scenes of the Sylvest twins in Part One and becomes an all-purpose theme for them, but a harpsichord version of it can also be heard as the Doctor attempts to rewire the transmat on Titan III at the end of Part Two. We might think of it as the "maths genius" theme.
• As noted, then, the harpsichord represents the Doctor in this story. It's jaunty when he's in a good mood - there's a pronounced flourish when he delightedly produces The Coat from the TARDIS wardrobe. It steps hesitantly when he's preparing to stroll out onto the surface of Titan III. It startles when he's surprised by an armed guard in Part Two. When the Doctor bursts into a fit of anger, the harpsichord is replaced with more straightforward roars and clangour - we might take this as an attempt by Clarke to reassure us that this isn't the "real" Doctor we're seeing. Clarke alternates between the two musical voices to underscore the Doctor's mood swings in the TARDIS scenes in Part One. 
• The other synth voice to listen out for is the sad, reedy sound of the oboe, representing the sad, reedy figure of Azmael. It's most notable in Part Two when he gets some of his most contemplative scenes, and during his final scenes in Part Four. 
• We get a couple of "oo-wee-oo" moments in this story, to reassure us again that we're still watching DW. The first one, high and fluting over a pom-pom-pom bassline, is heard as we finally see the Doctor dressed in his eye-searing new costume; there's also one rendered in double bass at the end of Part Four over the line "I am the Doctor, whether you like it... or not!"
• In a surprising moment of musical continuity, when the Doctor briefly addresses Peri as "Tegan" in Part Two, Clarke reprises Tegan's departure cue from Resurrection of the Daleks. Finally, she gets a theme - after she's left the show! This is the last time in DW's original run that a companion will be referenced across stories with a specific musical theme.
• Sinister low-end growlings accompany scenes of Mestor, his palace on Jaconda, and indeed most of the rest of the story.

Vox pop
Back when we dealt with Time-Flight, I pondered whether a bad story could drag a good composer down. In fact there are several examples in DW of composers rising above poor visual material to provide solid incidental scores, but Malcolm Clarke really does seem to be struggling with The Twin Dilemma. In fairness to him, what is there for him to work with? Giant slugs? Annoying precocious twins? He's a concept composer - witness the watery burbling of The Sea Devils, the metallic clangour of Earthshock, the maritime whimsy of Enlightenment - and here he's given a story without a concept to latch on to. It's tempting to suggest that the grumbling sounds that pervade The Twin Dilemma reflect his mood at the time. But this score feels like a very half-hearted job; between this and the tried-and-tested character of the Resurrection of the Daleks score, it feels as if Clarke is running out of steam.

Availability

• The BBC DVD does not include the isolated score for this story, but does include a photo gallery featuring eight minutes of Malcolm Clarke's music.

27 - The Caves of Androzani

Composer: Roger Limb
Director: Graeme Harper

What's the score?
This is the story that sees the return to DW of Roger Limb, although it's hard to believe he's the same Roger Limb who worked on Arc of Infinity and Terminus. Limb himself attributes the marked difference in his output to director Graeme Harper, who had strong ideas of his own on how The Caves of Androzani should sound and gave Limb very clear indications of what he wanted, something that John Black and Ron Jones apparently hadn't done.
Limb's familiar free-wheeling compositional style can be found here and there, but the sound palette is refreshingly different from what he's used before. The "angry wasp" synths have had their day. Also worth noting is the change in cue length across the story: Part One contains a lot of short cues, but as the story picks up steam the cues get longer, until in the final act of Part Four we're presented with a massive seven-minute piece.

Musical notes

• A recurring motif in the score is the six-note phrase representing spectrox, the wonder drug of Androzani Minor. It's usually played in chimes and heard in scenes around the middle of the story, for instance when Sharaz Jek and the arms dealer Stotz are arguing over a trade of guns and spectrox. However, it's anticipated in a discreet tenor synth early in Part One when Peri steps into a raw spectrox nest; the same cue foreshadows the Doctor's demise in Part Four with a touch of the TARDIS' cloister bell, a familiar portent of doom.
• The presence on-screen of Sharaz Jek - forced into hiding, dangerous and probably insane - is marked with a rattlesnake sound. This is one of the elements of the score Graeme Harper is known to have requested.
• I mentioned under The King's Demons that this was the year the BBC Radiophonic Workshop got their hands on a synthesizer that could do a convincing snare drum sound. Limb makes liberal use of this new toy, with stumbling snare phrases throughout the story in action scenes, notably where Stotz' gun-runners are involved. There's a sustained snare roll at the end of Part One when the Doctor and Peri are apparently executed by firing squad; it's reprised in Part Four when Stotz guns down his own men after cutting a deal with Trau Morgus, so we might think of it as a "people are shot for Morgus' convenience" theme. 
• The lengthy cue in Part Four that covers the Doctor's rescue of Peri and return to the surface of Androzani Minor is a slow, atmospheric piece punctuated by a thudding heartbeat. Somewhere around the midpoint, as the Doctor's own condition deteriorates and it becomes more of an ordeal for him to continue, the heartbeat becomes the tolling of the cloister bell, the TARDIS' warning alarm. It's a nice, subtle way of reinforcing the gravity of his situation. 
• An anxious penultimate cue leads into the final cue of the story, a high-pitched pulsing whine that escalates into a grinding upward synth crash as the Doctor regenerates. Graeme Harper famously asked Limb to deliver something that sounded like the end of the Beatles' "A Day in the Life". It may lack the tenderness of Paddy Kingsland's regeneration cue for Tom Baker's departure, but it's certainly intense.
• Having served up this heart-stopping over-the-cliff moment, Limb remains silent during Colin Baker's first words as the Doctor. This is the right decision for several reasons: it gives the new Doctor centre stage; it means Limb doesn't tread on the toes of Malcolm Clarke, who will provide the score for Colin Baker's first full story as the Doctor; and it's hard to imagine any further musical cue steering clear of bathos after that regeneration crash.

Vox pop
Dramatic (melodramatic, even) but restrained when it needs to be, this score is a real quantum leap forward for Roger Limb. He maintains a melancholic feel throughout, but doesn't let the pace drag, as befits an action-filled story. It's a pulse-racing, spine-tingling score, as listenable in isolation as it is suited to the transmitted episodes; it could even be the best of the season.

Availability

• A soundtrack CD for this story was released by Silva Screen Records in 2013.
• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option.
• This is the last story to be represented by a suite of music on Doctor Who - The Music II.

26 - Planet of Fire

Composer: Peter Howell
Director: Fiona Cumming

What's the score?
The clue's in the title - most of Planet of Fire is set on a dry, volcanic world. Along with his regular synths, Peter Howell accordingly brings some sounds appropriate to the setting. Several of the percussive elements in this score have a tinkly quality to them, like shards of pottery being knocked together, while many scenes feature airy, breathy musical cues that sound as if they're being wafted out through volcanic vents.

Musical notes

• Part One is very sparsely scored. It boasts less than six minutes of music, probably the least Howell has ever recorded for an episode of DW, with several large gaps between cues, one of them a full six minutes long. The reason for this is that Howell's music is saved for the alien elements in the story - the planet of Sarn, and the Trion beacon that Howard's diving team find. Scenes set in Lanzarote warrant no incidental music, except when the beacon is held in close-up.
• The signature sound for the beacon is a downward pitched whir. It seems to be a signifier for the "Misos triangle" emblem on the top of the beacon rather than for the beacon itself - there's a glitchy whirring cue in Part One when Turlough discovers the beacon and reveals a matching triangle branded into his upper arm.
• Kamelion's signature is a plucked string sound arranged in fast phrases. (It's tempting to suggest a reference in the synth strings to Kamelion's previous appearance, when he played a lute, except that the sound here doesn't bear much relation to the lute.) It also forms the steady beat under the cue at the end of Part One when Kamelion takes on the appearance of the Master. 
• There are several Master-related cues scattered through the story that consist of a high-pitched whine overlaid with uneasy treble synths. Howell seems to have enormous fun falsetto-ing this motif at the end of Part Three when the tiny Master is revealed. 
• This story sees further uses of the "repeated simple element" tension-building method commented on under The Awakening, although nothing quite so drawn out as the minute-long examples heard in that story. The cue that plays over the Part Two cliffhanger and Part Three reprise is a fine example, a series of alternating dramatic notes and pneumatic "phung!" noises as the Kamelion-Master demands that the Doctor and his friends be sacrificed in the Cave of Fire. Howell plays a rather interesting game with the reprised cue in Part Three: as the scene shifts from the action inside the great hall to Turlough and Malkon lurking outside, Howell drops the volume on the music, as if it were actually playing inside the great hall. There's no suggestion that it's a diegetic piece of music, yet it behaves like one in order to reinforce the visual separation of the interior (loud) and exterior (quiet) scenes while at the same time joining both in a continuous sequence.

Vox pop
By now, readers should have a pretty good idea of how I'm likely to react to a score by Peter Howell. This is another good one, and one that again does a fine job of adding narrative value to the story - in a sophisticated way in the Part Three reprise cue mentioned above, and in a more obvious way in the appropriate choice of sounds to reinforce the volcanic setting.

Availability

• The BBC DVD release includes the full isolated score as an audio option. The DVD also includes a re-edited special edition of the story from which, inexplicably, all the music has been removed.
• Doctor Who - The Music II included a suite of music from this story.