A decade ago, I worked on an imaginary soundtrack to an imaginary movie, set in a decimated jungle populated now by nothing but blackened boles, as far as the eye can see.
A lone inhabitant wanders aimlessly through this wasteland. He is searching, but for nothing in particular…anything to break the monotony of this endless tract of moldering stumps.
Terror strikes as the man hears the sound of predators calling to one another, but cannot make out a direction. He had not known anything at all still lived on this world, other than him. He wants to run, but with every direction the same, and no clue where these predators are, he is frozen by indecision.
He resigns himself to finally die. He sits upon the ground and wishes for the creatures to devour him, freeing him, finally, from his loneliness…but they never do.
This is his soundtrack.
Track 2 is a somber jazz piece called Scent of Bacon: a song that lives in abandoned alleys and subway stations amidst the rubble of a forgotten city.
Track 3 is the soundtrack accompanying the murder of a cheating husband in the 1930s of an alien world.