Ultimately, the Moroder and Tangerine Dream aspects do somewhat impact the score for White Noise, but the work still remains mostly within Elfman's comfort zone. When he does really embrace the electronica elements, the music achieves an intriguingly darker tone. And yet, classical minimalism in Elfman's 1990's dramas is the standard mode, and quirky influences from his 1980's comedies are also a contributing factor. A fully-rounded orchestra joins the electronic elements, brass a rare but at times impactful presence. Choral accompaniment, sometimes with the composer's trademark solo boy voice technique, is used at upbeat or inspirational moments, and a massive theremin-aided crescendo with the choir occupies "Up There." A vibraphone provides some contemporary character while piano is once again the reliable representation of suburban home life. The personality of the score works well, but the narrative is minimally effective, mostly due to the fact that Elfman's themes are highly elusive and disjointed by design. It's a film about people in various states of being out of their minds, so cohesive thematic threads aren't always called for. For some listeners, a handful of standout tracks emulating vintage Elfman music will appeal. The aforementioned lecture and train disaster sequence yields one of Elfman's own favorites in "Duel Lecture," with countless retro techniques including memories of Beetlejuice in the solo voice applied as the toxic disaster is about to unfold. For others, "Teddy Bear" is a frantic play on 1980's Elfman zaniness. For those inclined to appreciate the composer's most horrifying material, the explosive dissonance in "Bad Dream" is striking. The culmination in "Sunrise" is one of the composer's most touching cues in quite some time. The thematic duties are split between the primary characters and the overarching sense of fear from the people of the town. The main theme has a variant representing the lead female character, Babette, and the two are intertwined several times depending on how fragmented Elfman's development of either can be. The main identity is a meandering and lost one, with repetitive, circular phrasing in its descending movements. You receive it with upbeat spirit at 0:25 on strings over bubbly percussion in "Waves and Radiation." It's twisted towards light Elfman tragic mode in "Highway Disaster," elongated for tender piano and strings in "Terribly Sad Moment," and hopeful on woodwinds over cool percussion late in "You Shot You."

The main theme's epiphany in White Noise comes in the latter half of "Sunrise" as it reaches for religious heights of coolness, and the last 30 seconds of this cue at the supermarket entrance is a highlight, wrapping the theme well. It prances lightly in the second half of "Wrap Up," too, a seemingly unused cue. The variant on this theme for Babette is quietly pretty but troubled and staggering in progressions. Tentative on piano and woodwinds at 0:39 in "Me First," the idea turns sinister by the cue's end. It is pensively attractive on the same instruments in "Chew Gum or Smoke," returns with tired whimsy on piano in "Sunrise," and obtains more refinement early in "Wrap Up." Dominating the score's midsection is Elfman's often electronically-aided fear theme, an inescapable, alternating rhythmic figure that supplies much of the work's discomfort. Defined at the start of "Duel Lecture" and during all of "Airborne Toxic Event," this idea becomes slight in the middle of "Toxic Chemicals" but evolves into a rambling electric bass figure in "We're Late." From there, the fear motif is a driving force, propelling the middle of the horrifying "Teddy Bear" and continuing in "Panic." It becomes even more synthetically overbearing throughout "Trash," takes a determined lead on electronics in "Finding Mink," strikes a more organic and lighter tone in "You Shot You," and is summarized in the unused "Nebulous Mass," which takes this idea to militaristic ends with synths and snare. Listeners yearning for the generally accessible passages in White Noise, thematically or otherwise, will find fifteen minutes of more of compelling throwback material. The entirety is saturated with Elfman's styles even considering the outside 1980's influences, and that appeal alone will suffice for some. When the composer unleashes his tragically tonal inclinations in this work, it really shines. The remainder is comparatively troubled beyond appeal on the album, which contains the two unused tracks at the end and appends the vintage "The Cloud is Coming" song. The "Sunrise" cue segues into the dance song, "New Body Rhumba," which was released separately as a single. Its absence on the album shows once again why licensing issues still stand in the way of the soundtrack album everyone wants. Based on Netflix's awards consideration website, some Elfman cues were left off of the album, too. Given the failure of the movie and the obscurity of this Elfman music, few listeners will be clamoring for more. It's comforting to hear the composer continue to develop ideas from his early years of film scoring, and while much of White Noise is grating, its highlights are well worth the endeavor for his collectors.  ***   @Amazon.com: CD or Download