Books guitarist Nick Zammuto has said that early in the band's development he was challenged by a friend to make music that couldn't possibly be used on a film soundtrack. Whether or not it was intentional, the Books have in a sense followed through on this request. By seeding their tracks with voices-- many actually drawn from obscure movies-- the Books have ensured that their music exists as a self-contained world of its own, one that doesn't easily lend itself to reinforcing an unrelated image. Their songs are their own little movies.
Even so, the Books continue to take on other sound-related projects in addition to their records. In April 2004 they recorded four short tracks to be used in conjunction with a work created for the French Ministry of Culture; the Books were charged with crafting music for the building's elevators. Giving in to repeated requests for this material, the band compiled the music on a homemade 3" CD-R, along with some miscellaneous material from their extensive sound library.
Ranging from about 30 seconds to almost 90, the four elevator pieces are, though short, prime Books material. Though lighter and quieter, "Fralite", through it's layering of guitar and cello, captures the whimsy and ache of longing of "Tokyo". The stately ballroom piano of "Egaberte", which can be heard as the soundtrack when visiting The Books website, is in a sense the quintessential elevator music, localized by the sampled voices speaking French throughout. "Liternite" is a surprisingly complete little piece, with an intro of bass, wooden fish and a singing voice pulled from a folk song building steadily to a small crescendo that fades quickly after its peak. "It's Musiiiiic!" captures the phrase from a lounge crooner and loops it.
The remaining nine tracks on this 15-minute release are mostly collages, with only hints of instrumentation added throughout. "Meditation Outtakes" plucks all occurrences of the word "meditation" from a speech and lays them end-to-end, demonstrating the way meaning changes with minute changes in inflection. "Of the Word God" uses the same technique with "god," sourcing this time from a woman preacher's sermon. You can follow the story she presents through the emphasis on this single word, beginning quietly and moving steadily toward a histrionic scream. Even though they consist mostly of voices removed from their original context and carefully edited, these odds and ends actually demonstrate rather well one of the things that makes the Books so distinctive: their ear for the musicality of the spoken word.
