The X-Files Movie Album (CD)
Zum Start des Akte X Kinofilms erschienen zwei CDs: ein Instrumentalscore, der ausschließlich aus Kompositionen von Mark Snow besteht, und dieses Album, auf welchem sich Songs von diversen Interpreten wiederfinden.
- Der von Noel Gallagher speziell für diesen Soundtrack geschriebene Titel "Teotihuacan" wurde von Gallagher für den britischen Rock-Musiker Ian Brown umgeschrieben und unter dem Titel "Keep what you got" veröffentlicht.
- Der Titel "Tubular X", ein Remix des X-Files Themes von Mike Oldfield ist nur auf dem europäischem Release zu finden. Der Titel spielt auf Oldfields Debut Album "Tubular Bells" an.
Hear the truth revealed at 10:13
Hierbei handelt es sich um die Abschrift des Hidden Tracks, in dem - 10 Minuten und 13 Sekunden nachdem der letzte Track verklungen ist - Chris Carter die Mythologie erklärt.
- The method, as they call it, though it was more so a germline procedure of singular medi-scientific complexity, had been given to them by the alien colonists as a quid pro quo. The Syndicate would help them to create a population of alien hybrids who would hide in plain sight, cloned from human ova and alien bio material, so there would be a cloned race immune to the effects of the black oil when the return to the planet began. For this, The Syndicate would be sequestered, granted a sort of immunity or asylum, given a place in the grander scheme. They were the Vichy Government to the German Final Solution; a collaboration whose motivation was simple self-directed survival. Each cloning operations were spread across the country, the cataloguing and record-keeping done through a complex intra-institutional system that connected to every branch of government, from the Social Security Administration to the Department of Defense. The operation, under the working title "Purity Control", had been launched in 1948, its original conception the brain-child of German scientists given immunity themselves for war crimes and allowed to continue the eugenics experiments that were Hilter's dark legacy.
- The Syndicate had begun as a sub-set of a shadow intelligence agency, whose original orders were to create plausible denial and an effective cover-up of Purity Control. But through fifty years, numerous U.S. and U.N. administrations, the prinicipals began to wrest control, accumulating power and influence across international borders. Such that by 1990, the operation ceased to have a member accountable to any one government, and whose only orders will be taken from a man named Strughold, a German industrialist who had fled his homeland to Northern Africa. These men, who knowledge and access provided control of a foreseeable future, had in spite of this, everything to lose. Their secret work, the cloning preparations and the cataloging, constituted their greatest vulnerability - exposure. Their detection would insure not just their own demise, but a far-reaching dissolution of social and religious order around the globe. To protect against this, the Syndicate employed methods of disinformation, using covert government programs that had been regrettably discovered as a kind of smoke screen - a dodge or blind where the transgressions of Congress-accountable agencies served to hide their own more odious undertaking. They had even at times used the UFO phenomenon to create an hysteria that science and the intelligencia denounced so completely as to make belief and believers seem ridiculous and completely discreditable. They had also, in a crisis, used a tool of the colonists themselves; alien bounty hunters who policed the cloning operations and enforced rule on the countdown to colonization, a double-edged sword whose cold-blooded tactics could help to stem a leak or threat, but who also kept watch on The Syndicate. A threat in itself, as The Syndicate had something to hide that not even the colonist knew of - a vaccine against the black oil, an inoculant against the substance in which the alien life force was held, in fact, the very medium of the life force itself.
- To guard this secret was perhaps even more critical than the truth of the existence of alien life, and of colonization. If The Syndicate's own secret vaccine were discovered, the vaccine that would make themselves immune from the effects of the black oil, they would certainly be destroyed and the timetable for colonization stepped up. They would protect this secret with their lives, they would kill to protect it, as it symbolized the only hope they had of avoiding enslavement when the planet was overtaken. That they had been able to, over decades, conduct their work on the vaccine undetected, was a result of a code among the Syndicate members, that put honour and the future above personal politics. But now this code was beginning to break down, an incipient scramble for power beginning to develop. A threat from within that doubled the threat from without, from Agents Mulder and Scully, and the X-Files.
Dies ist eine Abschrift der im Booklet der CD enthaltenen Einführung von Chris Carter.
- One enters this soundtrack business blindly, with a blind man's trust in the peculiar laws of physics which govern the enterprise. The over-oxygenated air free of doubt and its polluting influences, the ever-optimistic Hollywood precognitive reflex exercised beyond all sanity and good sense -- one should know better about cooperative activities in which the responsible parties, smiling altogether too broadly at the outset, torture fate and molecules with advance-congratulatory high fives. We must be doomed.
- And yet, in spite of my dread and paranoia about the process, I am troubling now to contain my own sense of glorious wonder at the outcome. This album began as a dubious proffer: come and join the show. None of the artists here would have the luxury of seeing the X-Files movie before signing on, let alone before performing this most transitive art. They would go off to compose their work in secret, too: expressionistic interpretations of the mysterious. Of an object groped in the dark. The vague context providing a chance opportunity, creating a new context: do your own thing. We are not doomed, the existentialists tell us, we are just doomed to freedom.
- And thus, with much wariness, adrift in the horse latitudes of anticipation, the first audio waves are rippling against the side of the ghost ship. A varietal siren chorus on the tradewinds. Still the lifeboats, land ho. Hands in the air, the responsible parties smiling broadly, high fives all around.