I am a huge fan of the show Twin Peaks, so I read this purely as a fan wanting to divulge in everything I can get from this world. I loved the tidbits of intrigue and Easter Eggs from the show. I also enjoyed the history between the composer and David Lynch and their working relationship. Reading this definitely enhanced my perception and my knowledge of Twin Peaks so for that it was a success. I basically skimmed over large passages where the author wrote very in depth descriptions of various compositional techniques, not because I didn't understand, but because that's not the reason I decided to read this book and ultimately didn't interest me as much. 3.5 stars.
Read my full GR review here:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3336169634?type=review#rating_357080457

Some of it was a little technical for me, but it made me see how collaborative film and TV is, as well as really appreciate the importance of finding someone whose work interacts well with your own.

This may seem a ridiculous complaint over an entry in a series about albums, but there's a bit too much music here for me. Proper, formal music, I mean - all Cs and As and sharps and that. Which I've never been able to get my head around, and this time was no different. Yet there's also stuff like the emotional impact of suspension, disturbing tritones, and major sounding happier than minor, which even I know, so must really bore the people who actually grasp this material. That aside, though, I did enjoy this as a window on the working relationship of Badalamenti and Lynch - the latter of whom seems to have much more my approach to sound - he "once directed Al Regni to make his saxophone sound like "big chunks of plastic"". Now that I understand! Interesting too that, so far as I recall, this is the first soundtrack 33 1/3 for a traditional screen entertainment (I know there was a Super Mario one, but even for Prince they skipped his masterpiece Purple Rain to instead look at the more worthy Sign o' the Times). And it is noticeable that material such as a scene by scene, and even cue by cue, discussion of the pilot takes up at least as much space as the album itself - even when we're referred to specific pieces of music, they're as likely to be from the omnibus Twin Peaks Archive release as from the album allegedly under discussion. Still, even if it is stretching the parameters of the imprint, that has to be the most obvious approach. Which is not to say it wouldn't be amusingly in line with some of the more experimental 33 1/3s to talk about a soundtrack album without ever mentioning its source and origin. Though one of the intriguing details is that, for Lynch and Badalamenti, the music will often precede and inform the filming, where usually the reverse would be true. Hence also their practice of gathering 'firewood' - discrete bits of music, individual instruments, which can be recombined in various forms to fit the finished project.

I did notice that, the author perhaps having noted it was getting a bit technical, towards the end a lot of exclamation marks seem to creep in, in the manner of an academic who realises they've got into dry country and wants to emphasise that this stuff is definitely really exciting! It's an impression supported by the oddly old-fashioned use of 'being initimate with' to describe what Laura Palmer used to get up to. I certainly don't regret reading this; apart from the Lynch/Badalamenti method stuff, it would otherwise never have occurred to me how closely Twin Peaks engages with US soap opera conventions and music, simply because UK ones are so different. And if I did ever notice the clever, unsettling tricks the show plays with diegesis, I'd only done so subconsciously, whereas now I've been pointed directly at them. Nevertheless, I must conclude that I wasn't the ideal reader. Because for me, one mention of Badalamenti's "beautiful dissonance", or the newfound "white angel" style employed by former belter Julee Cruise, is worth pages of F-sharp-7s.

Clare Nina Norelli’s ‘Soundtrack from Twin Peaks’ is one of the Thirty Three and a Third series of books which appear under the Bloomsbury academic imprint.

On the face of it this brand of short books, each of which deals with an album of popular music, appears to represent a publisher’s wet dream, as there’s a seemingly inexhaustible source of new titles and a ready-made fan base for each offering. Moreover, David Lynch, the co-creator of ‘Twin Peaks’, is a director for whom the term ‘cult following’ might have been invented.

In reality it’s not quite this straightforward as ideally each Thirty Three and a Third volume should place the album under consideration not only within the context of its creator’s oeuvre but also consider its reception, both when it first appeared and subsequently, by both critics and the general record-buying public. In addition, in an ideal world, the Thirty Three and a Third author needs to be able to analyse, in an accessible manner often quite technical issues relating to composition, musicianship and the recording process. There is always a danger that the author will be so besotted by the work in question that they’ll lose whatever critical faculties they possess or be so expert in some technical arcana that they’ll employ jargon which will alienate the general reader.

Just how badly things can go wrong is illustrated by Dai Griffiths book in the series on Radiohead’s OK Computer which at the time of writing enjoys a 2.1 rating on Amazon.com customer reviews.

Norelli is, however, theoretically well placed to write informatively about the music of ‘Twin Peaks’ given that she is a songwriter and composer herself. Moreover, the fact that most of the soundtrack is lyric-free (the exception being ‘Into the Night’ sung by Julee Cuise), Norelli’s analysis is only minimally constrained by the tight copyright laws relating to the use of lyrics.

Norelli is generally sound in her judgments, not least in saying that “Badalamenti’s soundtracks are able to function successfully as stand-alone albums”. This is, however, somewhat contradicted by her penchant for referring to “the listener/viewer” on the grounds that “much of this book will concern itself with how his [Badalamenti’s] compositions function in tandem with the visuals of the show, and … using the words separately does not accurately convey the act of simultaneously watching and listening.”

Undoubtedly the best way of savouring this book would be to read the relevant section just before or just after watching the relevant section of ‘Twin Peaks’, with one’s ears most closely attuned to the music but this is a counsel of perfection unlikely to be followed.

Notwithstanding the last point, the author seeks and largely succeeds in addressing both music and film fans. Norelli also aims to use musical analysis “in such a way that it is still accessible to those who have not studied a note of music”. In this, however, she fails miserably. The first sentence on page 1, for example, refers to a “quarter-note cymbal ostinato” but it is not until page 25 that the inexpert reader is instructed that ostinato refers to “a repetitive musical or rhythmic figure”.

There are other efforts to guide the reader through the musicology, for example, “A suspension occurs when a note that is dissonant within a particular harmonic context is sustained before resolving (usually downwards) to a note that is more consonant”, but because these explanations occur in the main text rather than (or additionally) in a convenient glossary, I suspect most readers will be none the wiser when the discussion has moved on to something like “Badalamenti’s beautiful, dark string suspensions”.

The Twin Peaks soundtrack is entrancing. Angelo Badalamenti, who I heard interviewed by Mark Kermode at the Edinburgh Film Festival, is wonderfully entertaining. Norelli’s ‘Soundtrack from Twin Peaks’ is ultimately neither of these as her overly technical analysis whilst shedding light for some runs the risk of tarnishing the magic for the rest of us.

Seek Out the Sounds – Angelo Badalamenti’s Soundtrack from ‘Twin Peaks’ by Clare Nina Norelli

Angelo Badalamenti’s Soundtrack from ‘Twin Peaks’ by Clare Nina Norelli is the latest title from the 33 ⅓ Series by Bloomsbury, “a series of short books about a wide variety of albums, by artists ranging from James Brown to the Beastie Boys”. Each book in the series examines a specific album, looking at its creators and cultural impact. The first half of the Twin Peaks soundtrack book tracks the life of composer Angelo Badalamenti, from his days as a high school music teacher in Brooklyn where he once composed an original musical based on Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, his time composing pop songs advertising jingles, and songs for musical theatre, and into film and TV composition. The latter half examines the Twin Peaks soundtrack in detail, looking at each song and how the different motifs and sequences can be found throughout the show, often linked to specific characters or themes, changing subtly so as to be used at different times without becoming repetitive.

I have no formal music training, I can’t even read music (much to the horror of my high school music teacher who apparently considered this akin to child abuse on my mother’s part) and so sentences such as, “the refrain progression begins instead on the G-sharp minor chord and then moves down to an F-sharp-7, then down again to E major, jumps up for a bar to C-sharp minor, and back down to finish on the F-sharp-7 chord,” may as well be written in another language. However, this didn’t affect my enjoyment of the book in any way as the majority was written in a style that required no music training. I also came away from the book with a list of new music to dig up and listen to, thank goodness for my Apple Music subscription.

If you want to develop a better understanding of how the musical soundscape of a TV show can influence our feelings toward it, this is the perfect book for you.

Like a lot of people of a certain age, Twin Peaks was MY JAM; I snatched, and continue to snatch, up all the additional bits and bobs that trickle our way (Laura's diary, Fire Walk With Me, The Secret History of Twin Peaks). Side bar - can you even imagine how much extra Twin Peaks stuff will be attached to the new show? Twitter accounts? Intragrams? Please, please let us get an interactive website. Anyhoo, this isn't really a "book" book, I think we would be better served if this was an online course or audio visual file? The writing is totally fine and does an outstanding job of describing the difficult but it doesn't quite catch lightning in a bottle. My suggestion is to definitely read with your Amazon music or Pandora account nearby so that you can hear the music as you read.

An interesting, but not overwhelmingly so, book about this fascinating soundtrack. I find 33 1/3rd books can range from brilliant to awful, and this falls somewhere in the middle (whilst it was good, I just didn't like the approach, particularly)

I requested this book because I'm a big fan of the TV show Twin Peaks. When I was a teenager obsessively buying soundtracks in order to find new bands, I bought the soundtracks for the show and Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. I was fascinated by the music and the imagery, and I still own both CDs today.

The author tried to write this book in a way that would be accessible even to people who aren't at all educated about music. Which would be me. Although I love music, I can't tell you the different notes. I don't know what a register is, or a bar, or basically anything else the author talks about here. I can't even pick out individual instruments from a song most of the time.

So, clearly, some of this book was utterly lost on me. Thankfully, it wasn't a large portion of the book. I enjoyed the recreation of scenes from the show with the context of the music (which I admit I never thought too deeply about) and discussions about the characters. I also liked reading about Badalamenti and Lynch's partnership, and the way Lynch described the songs he wanted: "Just make it sound like wind." This book really made me want to watch the series again, and the ending got me excited all over again about season 3.

A book that really, REALLY shouldn't be a book, for it cries out to be a youtube channel, audiovisual lecture, whatever – anything but a book. Still, it's a damn fine one, surveying the musicality of a certain Bad Angel's work on the seminal TV series. It does bog itself down to be too much about the programme's music and the effect of it on the series (which makes the mind boggle as to what every other book in this large series manages to fill itself with) but it probably conveys everything you need to know about the music, the album itself and all the various variants available as part of the score. (Bonus marks, too, of course, for a paraphrase of OMD's full band name.) A great companion to the series, the 'long-player' – and for those of course awaiting season three.