My first go with Lucas Vidal’s Invader soundtrack was intense. Right from the get go Vidal grabs your attention with an intensity that speaks of desperation, survival, and even a little anger. There is a subtle use of small drums in the mix that heightens the mood, a use of strings that has a duality that sends your mind spinning, and an electronic presence that throws your expectations off where you believe the soundtrack is headed next.

My normal process with soundtracks is to listen first, let my mind do some wandering, as far as interpreting the music and how it will fit into a film, and then research to fill in the back story, if there is one, and see if I can find any quotes from the composer about what inspired them to shape their efforts. Rarely do I track down a trailer for a film based on the films soundtrack, even though this is the second time within a week that I have, but Vidal’s work on Invader intrigued me.

The cover for the soundtrack features several characters from the film and one small frame that shows two men in army gear forwarding with their rifles at the ready. Is this a war film? That one frame is the only evidence that it is. So I pop on the trailer and find that the film does, sort of, take place in a war (Iraq). Fortunately the trailer is so incredibly vague and reveals only that two men share a secret from their time in Iraq that it could undo them. In any case it’s an intense trailer that makes good use of Vidal’s contributions without revealing more then it needs to. Now back to the soundtrack.

Vidal’s soundtrack flitted words like paranoia, action, anger, fear, and desperation as it rolled on from track 1 to track 17. Before looking into the film I had the suspicion that the music would fit well into a Michael Bay film, a good Sci-Fi, or any one of the various spy films that never stop coming out these days. It just speaks volumes for itself as far as shaping an ambiance for the imaginary world you’ll conjure up while being thrown about in its turmoil, and some lighter spots.

Vidal makes good use of his string section. The high pitched shrill of the strings produce a feeling of horror, as if there’s something fearful on the horizon and you can only await it’s inevitable approach. Meanwhile in the background more strings play in contrast, creating a feeling of courage or chase (your choice). In the usual fashion Vidal also uses strings to create a vulnerability, but it seems a bit like background noise because you’re so used to it.

There is a repeated theme of small tribal like hand drums that work marvelously throughout the soundtrack. You can hear them in the first track as they create a feeling of intense anxiety or desperation. They really come to life in track 5, Terraplen, sounding like the drums of war (1:39-1:59). I absolutely loved this brief but powerful use.

The album is relatively busy with so many sounds to hear and the music reaching climactic levels of intensity. There are some calmer moments in the soundtrack that produce a very touching level of sadness, happiness, and everything in-between the two. In contrast with the rest of the album it’s easy to associate these chapters in the soundtrack as vulnerable moments or brief moments of collapse as we’ve just run through the relentless pace of the rest of the album. It all fits together rather nicely. I highly recommend.