n the annals of Japanese animation, Neon Genesis Evangelion stands as one of the medium's truly great achievements. Along with abundant high-tech gadgetry and engaging interpersonal drama, the epic 26-episode series presents a thoughtful—albeit rather perplexing—plot that raises weighty philosophical and theological questions. The tale's impressive scope is also emphasized through a sweeping score that, as needed, serves to both countermand and complement the ambitious story. Although the show itself has been available for years here in the United States, selections from the soundtrack have just recently been released on two separate CDs, providing anime aficionados with an extensive array of eclectic melodies.
The initial disc establishes the adventure's key themes, including the famed pop standard "Fly Me to the Moon"—performed not only as an instrumental, but by a couple of different vocalists, too—and "A Cruel Angel's Thesis," the program's energetic opening song. Cues like "EVA-01" and "EVA-02" furnish suitably muscular motifs for the biomechanical Evangelions, just as "Toyko-3" delivers a muffled yet majestic overture for a post-apocalyptic megalopolis. Dynamic rhythms drive "Angel Attack" and "The Beast," saturating these tracks with prickly belligerence, while the amusing "Asuka Strikes!" flaunts unexpectedly buoyant hoedown harmonies.
Many of these numbers are revisited on the second volume, which features, among other cuts, a considerably shorter performance of "A Cruel Angel's Thesis" and five more renditions of "Fly Me to the Moon." Full-color 12-page booklets accompany each platter, offering lyrics, commentaries from various production personnel (including, on the first installment, a few baffling remarks from composer Shiro Sagisu) and cast lists.
Two CDs are just too much
Though Neon Genesis Evangelion takes place on Earth in the not-too-distant future, due to a cataclysmic disaster—and some ongoing battles with strange alien entities—society and the environment have been drastically altered. In spite of these changes, significant segments of civilization remain intact. The show's soundtrack reflects this state of affairs, melding myriad, and on occasion seemingly disjointed, melodic styles—indicative of the world's shattered cultures and diverse musical eras—into a relatively rambling and repetitive hodgepodge.
On the first disc, vigorous drums and darting horns imbue "Decisive Battle" with an infectious energy that's altogether electrifying. Incorporating a punchy beat that blatantly recalls John Barry's unforgettable James Bond arrangements, the work—which introduces themes that are later echoed on "Spending Time in Preparation" and "Magmadiver," two cues contained on the second platter—is marvelously edgy and exhilarating. Soft, piano-based pieces such as the original album's "Rei I" and "A Crystalline Night Sky," from the subsequent volume, supply calming interludes, with tunes like "Barefoot in the Park" and "She Said, 'Don't Make Others Suffer for Your Personal Hatred'" providing, respectively, jaunty jazz and surf-guitar inspired moments.
Yet, even with such stylistic diversity, the selections are simply wearying. In addition to the aforementioned "Fly Me to the Moon" interpretations, the 48 tracks (23 cuts on the first CD, 25 on the second) showcase seemingly endless restatements of every major motif. As isolated samplers, the two Neon Genesis Evangelion discs are adequate and, in some respects, quite ambitious; taken together, they're just tiresome.
