The Tapestry: Picard, Spock's Beard, and Bennett's Machine

I was a fan of the original Star Trek, but it was the Next Generation that really came to mean something to me. Not at first, of course.  Most fans will acknowledge that it took a little while for the Next Generation to grow its own legs. I watched the first few seasons out a sense of obligation to the original show, but when it took off, I think it exceeded the scope of the original series.

The show’s evolution coincided with big changes in my personal life. The first season aired right as I was leaving high school, and Jean-Luc Picard's passion and intellect provided weekly inspiration to strive for excellence during my undergraduate studies.  I did not, however, really relate to the character. I did not always deal with things in healthy or positive ways in those days, and my awareness of my flaws distanced me from the ideals that Picard represented. Until, that is, an episode called Tapestry.



In this episode, Picard was given the opportunity to go back and undo an incongruously headstrong act from his youth that he particularly regretted, and saw how his life unraveled when his vigor was tempered by experienced wisdom.

It was an act of humility for Picard, who did not readily admit his faults, to look back and confess that his regrettable actions were actually essential in building his character.  Aside from the stereotypically awkward Trek-ish fight that ensues after, this was a particularly moving moment in the Star Trek canon for me, perhaps second only to the death of Spock.

Tapestry was encouraging, but in the time that has passed, I don't know if I have been successful in realizing its point.  It is a little hard to hear Q say what he does to Picard without wondering if I have "played it safe."  In any case. since the episode aired my squishy innards have proven to be particularly susceptible to impossible tales of time travel, reflection, and self-forgiveness, so Bennett Built a Time Machine, the lead single from Spock’s Beard’s recent release, hit me right in the feels.



Drummer Jimmy Keegan takes the lead and tells the tale of Bennett, a person so regretful of his past that he dedicated his life to creating a means to go back in time and guide his younger self onto a more fulfilling path.  Bennett’s myopic obsession has an undercurrent of desperation, as it blinds him to the potential benefits his discoveries could have on humanity. He just wishes that he had made better choices throughout his life, and traveling back in time seems to be the only way to find happiness.

Bennett Built a Time Machine fit into the Spock’s Beard canon in many ways.  That was a relief, because I was a bit apprehensive about The Oblivion Particle.  It predecessor, Brief Nocturnes and Dreamless Sleep, featured a new Spock’s Beard lineup that successfully acknowledged the band's past while forging a distinctive version of its sound.  It also featured some writing contributions from founding (and defining) member Neal Morse, and I was nervous how The Oblivion Particle would work without his input.

With its memorable tunefulness, thought-provoking message, and evocative instrumental excursion that deepens the song’s narrative, however, Bennett Built a Time Machine immediately and wholeheartedly sold me.   The good news is that on the whole, the album is also an enjoyable, sometimes emotional listen.  It is, however, a little different in its execution than the Spock's Beard of old.

Although it’s a bit more like a cosmic-scaled Wind and Wuthering than a reimagined Power and the Glory that you can sing in the shower, The Oblivion Particle stands quite well on its own merit while simultaneously weaving its own way into the band's oeuvre.  Complexity and accessibility are the warp and woof, creating a tapestry that blends in comfortably within the Spock’s Beard continuity.  The Oblivion Particle also makes decisive moves to solidify this band's chemistry.  Ted Leonard is in fine form throughout, but it is still Bennett Built a Time Machine that I look forward to most when I spin the album.  My hope is that when it comes time to play the tune in a live setting, Keegan performs it from behind the drumset.  We all know that it can be done, and done well.  Make it so!

The Superhero Theme Project: Scarlet Witch and Silver Surfer

My previous post indicated that the Little One’s interest in the Superhero Theme Project wound down earlier this year. To a degree that was true, but her interest in superheroes never really waned at all. In fact, all of the effort I put into acquainting her with Marvel characters paid off when she discovered The Superhero Squad Show on Netflix. This show is a kid-friendly microcosm of the Marvel Universe, with low-key violence and funny side jokes for the comic fan parent that is undoubtedly nearby. Although pretty bereft of any real educational value, it has familiarized her with a lot of my favorite characters and, eventually, granted her enough expertise in their backgrounds to come up with her own favorites. She had several characters that she particularly liked, and that gave me the leverage to pry the playlist back open.

During the last run on characters, I ran across the End Credits theme from The Black Hole. If you were a fan of this movie from back when it was released, it is best kept in your memory. It has not aged particularly well. The soundtrack, however, is still incredibly evocative. Revisiting this composition vividly brought back that swirling maw through the perception of my third grade eyes.



For the Superhero Theme Project, I really like to adopt themes like this – ones that time will probably forget. The likelihood that the Little One will ever see The Black Hole, much less become a fan, is pretty slim. This End Credit theme is a very compelling piece of music, though, that deserves to live on in some form.

Still, when it came to my attention, there seemed to be no characters that fit. It had potential as The Red Tornado’s theme, but it was too menacing and ponderous to make sense. I considered using it as a villain theme, but that still largely went against the mission statement of the project. The solution came when the Little One declared that one of her favorite heroes was The Scarlet Witch.

This character had a background as a villain (which is actually addressed in The Superhero Squad) who turned over a new leaf. Additionally, her probability-bending powers satisfyingly mapped to the theme’s kaleidoscopic texture. Its depth caused her to initially mistake it for the Hulk theme, but she quickly learned to distinguish one from the other.

For the second character, I had to make a concession. Over a year ago, I made a pact with myself not to use any Star Trek music, in the hopes that the Little One would one day become a Trek fan. With so much outstanding and memorable music in the franchise, however, it has been very difficult. I conceded by using material from the movies to represent on Iceman and Robin, but I resisted using any of the more familiar themes from the television series. When she told me that the Silver Surfer was one of her favorites, though, I could not use anything but the theme from Voyager.

Again, to be realistic, the probability that she will end up being a huge fan of this series is relatively slim. To be honest, even though I watched the series, I was not its hugest advocate. Its theme, however, is one of the best compositions in the entire franchise. It evokes majesty and power, and it is not at all a stretch to replace the images in my mind of Voyager gliding through space with the Silver Surfer, who is one of my personal all-time favorite characters. It seemed fitting to overlook my self-imposed stipulation in this case.

These two themes are now part of a four-track “sub-list” that was uploaded shortly after the last post, and she is very, very enthusiastic about these entries. I am too, for that matter. It helped to have some time and space to allow these themes to find their way to the right heroes. The other two tracks were a different story.

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Remembering Spock: Horner and The Genesis Effect

The passing of Leonard Nimoy affected me, but the truth of the matter is that I really didn’t know him. I knew Spock. By the time I was aware enough to enjoy Star Trek, it had already been cancelled for nearly a decade. Like a lot of kids in the late 70s, however, I became a dedicated fan of the show while it was in syndication. The original run only had three seasons of episodes, but I feel like my father and I watched a lot more than that. I played with the bridge playset that had the spinning transporter, and I climbed in trees with pretend communicators. I liked all the characters on the show, but Spock was the one that I really, really loved.

But Nimoy was not Spock. I still think it’s weird to see pictures of Nimoy out of character, smiling and laughing off-camera while in costume. By his nature, Spock was destined to be wooden and soulless, but Nimoy’s rendering was the exact opposite. It was his belief in the character that brought Spock to life, and the commentary that he made on the human condition in the following decades made Spock more than a fan favorite. It made him a cultural icon.

The original series was where I came to love Spock, and when I think of him I remember him in that black and blue uniform (or was it white and gold.....I can't ever tell). In the decades that followed, however, the Star Trek universe expanded far, far beyond its original late 60s run, starting with its move to the big screen. Even the most dedicated fan of the franchise will admit that the Star Trek movies were uneven, but many will also agree that The Wrath of Khan was one of the best. In fact, The Wrath of Khan was so great that it arguably saved the entire franchise after a rocky cinematic start.

The Wrath of Khan soundtrack was also a breakthrough in James Horner’s career. Any science fiction movie that came out around this time had to size up to John Williams at the height of his thematic powers, and The Wrath of Khan succeeds admirably in this regard.  Last year, I appropriated the music from a memorable scene in the film as Iceman’s theme for the Superhero Theme Project, and it evolved into one of the favorite tracks on the playlist for both of us.

I came to appreciate Enterprise Clears Moorings as a freestanding piece so much that I purchased the full soundtrack in the late fall and have had it in regular rotation for several months. The soundtrack vividly brings moments of the movie back to life, but it also stands very well on its own. Like its attendant movie, it is one of the strongest and most distinctive soundtracks in the franchise’s long history.



The Wrath of Khan also features a defining moment for Spock. To save the ship and its crew, he memorably sacrifices himself in a bath of invisible radiation. On his deathbed, he expresses his love and admiration for Kirk in an inimitable fashion. For those that grew up with the character, this scene is probably the most emotionally gut-wrenching in the entirety of Star Trek’s history. The effectiveness of this scene comes not just from Spock’s imminent death, nor from the viewer’s investment in the character. It comes from the commentary that it provides on two ubiquitous characteristics of humanity – friendship and mortality. This message is brought to life through the passionate eloquence of Nimoy’s performance.



Of course, Spock did not stay dead. His body was reanimated along with the planet that it was laid to rest on, and the sequel, which was directed by Nimoy, only emphasized further the importance of Spock to the Star Trek mythos.  Admittedly, by the early 80s, Nimoy was typecast. He probably could not have been accepted as any other character, and his career would depend on him keeping the character alive. I like to think, however, that he did not continue to play Spock only because it continued to extend his career, but because he continued to see Spock’s relevance.

Certainly, we all believed in Spock, even until the very end. The fans have lost several actors from the original series, but the loss of Nimoy was particularly unsettling. It’s hard to imagine a world without him. For those of us who like to believe, however, there does not have to be an end. An hour before I saw the first announcement of Nimoy’s passing, this clip caught my attention.



People have lots of wild ideas about what these spots on Ceres might be. In reality, I don’t know, either. The timing of their appearance, however, allows me to indulge in the idea that it might be Nimoy, bathed in the glow of the Genesis Effect and waving at the probe as it goes by. Perhaps we should go find him. I think it’s what he would want.