Song of the Week: "Time" by Hans Zimmer

“Time” by Hans Zimmer

Song of the Week is, for now, the only feature on Stetson’s Garden. I absolutely love listening to music, and more than that, I love sharing the music I love with other people. So, I plan on showcasing one song at the end of each week and writing about why I love it, why I felt the need to share it, why I think it is a special song worth sharing.

I was able to see Inception over the last weekend and it got me thinking. But, whether you loved the movie or hated it, I think that you have to give the movie credit for its incredible soundtrack. Perhaps the best decisions Christopher Nolan has made over his career have involved enlisting the services of Hans Zimmer to compose and record a set of stunning scores for his movies.

I guess the quality of a song from a movie must be judged based on its how it is used in the movie, whether it adequately supports the emotions contained in the particular scene, whether it finds the right balance of being noticeable and effective, without distracting audiences from the goings-on of the plot. “Time” plays during the end of the movie, as some loose ends are tied and others are left to dangle. It works to great effect when synced with the movie, but I think the song is just as fantastic on its own.

The minor chords played on a piano at the beginning of the song are so lonely. They are lonely, yet persistent, almost foreboding. Then the song slowly builds up. Strings come into to support the infantile chords, growing them into a sweeping harmony. A bass ominously hums beneath it all. The song continues to grow when a guitarist steps forward and adds to the melody. Then the drums pick up. A woman’s voice is added. Everything reaches a climax with the crescendo of a blaring horn section. The song is at its peak, its strongest moment, its greatest excitement.

Then everything fades away and we are left with those same cutting minor chords. But they sound different. Their persistence is gone. Instead they to slow down and soften, rasping like the weakened breath of a dying man. They soon fade away.

It’s phenomenal that music can convey so much emotion, so much meaning without the appearance of a single word. I find it to be almost a musical embodiment of the Sphinx’ riddle. 

What creature plays pianissimo in the morning, crescendos through the day and decrescendos toward silence in the evening?