Vangelis’ Chariots of Fire soundtrack from 1981 is embedded in my subconscious. It’s a movie I first saw when I was maybe 10 years old and to this day I have no real idea of what it’s about. Once I was old enough to understand and perhaps enjoy the movie for its narrative I seem to have subconsciously avoided doing so. It was all about the music and I didn’t want that to change. The images of racing on the beach with expressions of pain and victory, the jackets with school crests, the arguments, the meetings - it was to me a series of beautiful images but, overall, a mystery. I was enthralled and would watch it whenever possible but only as a visual accompaniment to what mattered most to me: that soundtrack. When my parents eventually got me the soundtrack on LP I always preferred to ‘listen to it on videotape’ with the images in the background.
While I was taken with the entire soundtrack it was one particular track - not the main theme, but rather Abraham’s Theme - that made this film an obsession. It put me in a trance from the first eerie glissando. While I certainly don’t listen to this soundtrack now as much as I used to I still love this piece and can perhaps finally articulate to myself why. It was/is the sound of slow motion - space within music, zooming in, disorientation, pacing, breath, energy, and more.
There’s room for further analysis in terms of synths used, production values (close mic’ing the Rhodes, emphasizing its treble overtones), the construction of the melody as it coexists alongside the more gauzy, almost discordant effects, etc. For me it’s the emotional and aesthetic impact that gives it its cogency.
It remains Slow Motion Music - regardless of whether it is coupled with the images or not. This notion is tethered to the way I compose music. I’ve taken it literally (by slowing down and transcribing music and foley to uncover something inconspicuous) and abstractly (by interpreting what something slowed down would sound like apart from merely slowing it down.)
Even at a young age there was an expectation of what film music should sound like. I listened to a lot of soundtracks and musicals - this one was different. I had no way of knowing at the time that Vangelis' choice to buck the trend and score a period film using synths was unconventional and risky. But it was surprising, mysterious, and emotional which is something that has always stayed with me.
This soundtrack could have been partly responsible for the reason I stopped winning races on track and field day - I would always run them at half speed to emulate the scenes in Chariots of Fire.
