Williams continues to laboriously write his scores by hand with pencil and paper at a piano, rejecting modern technologies and still managing to yield music of his established, superior quality. Having worked with Spielberg for 40 years, his involvement with Lincoln represents their 26th collaboration. As with the two projects they shared in 2011, The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn and War Horse, Lincoln feels like yet another bonus entry in the concluding years of this remarkable relationship, and Williams astonishingly continues to prove his viability as an artist despite his advancing age. Few, if any, of the younger generation of composers worldwide seem capable of capturing the primordial emotional essence of a film (and especially ones dealing with American history) with the same grace and precision. While Lincoln certainly doesn't feature the brilliant hyperactive activity of The Adventures of Tintin or the crowd-pleasing, resoundingly dramatic gravity of War Horse, it is no less successful at its task. The director and composer very specifically sought to utilize the music as a restrained and respectful accompaniment secondary to Day-Lewis' lead performance. While listeners will hear plenty of connections to Williams' prior Americana triumphs in Lincoln, none of them will feature the heroic, chime-banging personality the composer is best known for in the mainstream. The importance of this presidency, as well as the Thirteenth Amendment, is emphasized in solemn fortitude by Williams' tactful application of orchestral weight and melody. The composer studied 19th Century hymns and applied some of these traditional works to his score, and instead of recording the entirety in London or Los Angeles, he opted to employ the Chicago Symphony Orchestra (and associated chorus), which whom he had successfully collaborated on other occasions. For longtime Williams collectors, Lincoln will be a pleasure that comes exactly as expected, its restrained, noble, and somber tones exuding all his Americana traditions heard in scores from Born on the Fourth of July to Saving Private Ryan, Amistad, and The Patriot, as well as the maestro's numerous America-related concert pieces.

The rather short score for Lincoln (at least in its presentation on album) is highlighted by extensive solos led by piano with little accompaniment. Trumpet, oboe, and clarinet also take turns defining the melodies, sometimes in duets utilizing starkly harmonic but complimentary tones to denote a historical connection. The rest of the orchestra occasionally weaves in and out of the solos gracefully, and these moments, as always with Williams, are the highlights. The fuller ensemble sequences are not substantial in length or dramatic in weight when compared to Williams' previous efforts. The opening cue, "The People's House," does have the composer's trademark, pulsating whole notes on key to denote gravity, but such usage is rare elsewhere. The most outwardly heroic application of the ensemble comes at the end of "Equality Under the Law" in the form of a string crescendo of noble intent as expected. Tortured violins in "Elegy" rise out of the French horns, which are present frequently to bolster the patriotism factor in Saving Private Ryan fashion. One interlude of electronic dissonance (a standard Williams technique) exists in "The Southern Delegation and the Dream." Likewise, there exists only one significant wordless choral contribution; in the middle of "Appomattox, April 9, 1865," the eeriness of this layer is unmistakable. While more of this kind of mix throughout the score could have greatly enhanced the "mystique" effect, the composer might have considered such an approach to be overkill. On the flip side, two jaunty cues of playfulness break up the listening experience in "Getting Out the Vote" and "The Race to the House" with fiddles, banjo, and spirited percussion. While the latter is comprised of traditional tunes, the former features beefy bass strings in its mix as well, reminding of Far and Away. From an instrumental and vocal standpoint, the most uniquely individual cue is "Call to Muster and Battle Cry of Freedom," opening with snare and flute stereotypes for marching to war and continuing into a vocalized traditional Civil War song for male voices first and then with females. Aside from the opening track on the album, which features the theme and demeanor of Williams' original music for the trailer to Lincoln, the powerhouse cue of the score is "The Peterson House and Finale," which rotates through Williams' themes in 11 minutes of pensive thought, with significant attention provided to each.

The many themes for Lincoln are long-lined, which means that they can be somewhat difficult to latch onto given their somber, slow performances. Don't expect anyone in the mainstream (or even most film score fans) to walk away humming a specific melody from this one. Of the six major themes, the primary identity previewed in the trailer and anchoring "The People's House" is the most memorable, though don't be surprised if you find yourself most attracted to Williams' theme for the Thirteenth Amendment (and the aspirations behind it). This idea can be heard in "The Purpose of the Amendment," "Freedom's Call," and "The Peterson House and Finale," and its presence is best known due to the composer's anticipatory bass notes during its progressions (reflecting, oddly enough, Jerry Goldsmith's Explorers). Williams' themes for the family, the war, and other concepts bleed into one another without much distinction outside of their shared, muted respect for the topic. On the whole, this score offers absolutely no surprises for the learned Williams listener. It supplements their collections with yet another tender, thoughtful, and pleasantly fluid Americana entry. Some may balk at the fact that there is nothing substantially new (other than the traditional adaptations) to distinguish Lincoln from the rest of Williams' career. Indeed, most of the themes are highly derivative for the composer. Some will love and respect the score simply because it is yet another Williams work, a bonus at this point that brings back fond memories of the 1980's and 1990's, rather than as a transcendent individual score. There is no doubt that Lincoln is at least a solid four-star effort and is worthy of an Oscar nomination, but it may not be frequently visited for more than an occasional, comfortably historical background listening experience. Put together a suite of "The People's House," "Getting Out the Vote," "Appomattox, April 9, 1865," and "The Peterson House and Finale" and you'll have the twenty most essential minutes from the work. That said, the entirety still puts to shame most younger composers' music, especially when you consider the maestro's writing methodology. There is extraordinary, carefully crafted finesse to this material that, while perhaps tired and repetitive in Williams' own body of incredible achievements, remains remarkable to behold in the 2010's. More than anything else, in terms of its purpose, its finished sound, and its relationship to the listener, this score defines the word nostalgia.  ****   @Amazon.com: CD or Download