Geekitude: What would your Supervillain theme be?

Given the abundance of musical training at this school, I feel as if I should preface this week’s column with a slight caveat. The following brilliant analysis of orchestral music has little to do with the subtle intricacies of music theory, which I do not have the qualifications to address. While I am a musician, I have embarrassingly little music theory knowledge to my name. Instead, I will treat the subject in a way that I feel is suitably within my jurisdiction as a geek. Let’s talk about how certain music crawls up your skin like cold shivers of awe, or resounds in your chest so deeply that it threatens to drown out your heartbeat.

Let’s talk about Villain Music.

You know exactly what kind of music I am talking about, though you may not know it by this name. Obviously, and true to its name, this kind of music plays behind and thematically supports a movie, television or video game villain. But this music can be so much more – it unveils the villain’s wrath or cold purposes or dark twisted psyche. For geeks who find pleasure in the hardcore, this music can be a thrill-inducing, adrenaline-pumped, action-packed, intense musical experience.

Some of the most well-known pieces from movie soundtracks are examples of Villain Music. I guarantee that when the average person thinks about music from the Lord of the Rings movies, one of the first themes that passes through his or her head is the brass-and-anvil fury of Saruman’s theme. And whoever may say that the Imperial March is not among the best and most recognizable Star Wars themes is lying.

The name “Villain Music” is particularly apt when referring to its video game incarnation. Here it serves as the background music for that dramatic moment when the protagonist faces his arch-nemesis in one-on-one combat. Video game villain music done well is particularly fantastic. It continues to be engaging after playing on a loop over and over and over as you fail to defeat the big baddie again for the fiftieth time. One of the more famous examples of video game villain music is that of the infamous Final Fantasy VII baddie Sephiroth, resplendent with bone-chilling melodies and voices chanting in fierce Latin.

But perhaps the term “Villain Music” is a little too limiting. There are many examples of music that share many of the same qualities of Villain Music except for the namesake quality – that is, a clear and concrete villain. Looking away from music that originated in soundtracks, we can find perfect examples of Villain Music that still evoke the primeval feeling of raw ferocity. Holst’s Mars: Bringer of War is one. Another is Rimsky-Korsakov’s Night on Bald Mountain, famously given a gargoyle face by the first Fantasia. A further example is Dies Irae from Mozart’s Reqiuem, which was recognized for its fantastic quality as Villain Music and given a spot on the soundtrack for the second X-Men movie, accompanying the scene where the drugged Nightcrawler attacks the White House.

The plethora of Villain Music with non-soundtrack origins points us to an important question: does the villain make the music or the music make the villain? Would the villain really be quite so wickedly awesome without the wickedly awesome music to back him up? I think not. In fact, I would argue that the breathtaking, visceral achievement of Villain Music can be quite independent of its respective baddies. What truly matters in Villain Music is not so much the villain as the villainous quality – the “villainosity” – of the music. And therein resides the geek appeal.

Villain Music – instead of politely knocking on your door to invite you over for a spot of tea – tramples over you with all the tremendous fury of a horde of bloodthirsty war-horses with hoof beats like battle drums. And it is fantastic.