I live in a place where the men are manly and so are the women. I jest of course, but it is a place where logging trucks are more numerous than regular cars, people still hunt for their winter’s meat, and hockey is a religion and way of life. In fact if you are not a hockey fan it is widely speculated that you must have been dropped on your head as a child. Confession number one: I am not a hockey fan; oh, I do play, but more out of a need for exercise than any great passion. In fact, I play so poorly that the five year old Timbits hockey players can out-skate me. You will certainly never catch me watching a game for the sheer pleasure of it. I prefer to spend my time on other endeavours. Confession number two: I am a card-carrying, fully paid-up, lifelong band geek. I’ll play in any sort of group, community or otherwise, that will have me, but I have a particular affinity for concert bands and orchestras. There is nothing quite like the wonder of getting dozens of people together to produce one cohesive sound. It may be tantamount to herding cats at times, but by golly, when it works, it’s magic. My passion for music is perhaps rivalled by only one thing. Confession number three: I am a certified Sci Fi nerd. If it involves spaceships, extra-terrestrials, government conspiracies, mutants, robots, monsters, or awkward maladroits with poor social skills I’m probably a fan of it.
And so here enters stage left, the Doctor Who Fan Orchestra, the perfect collision of my geek and nerd universes. Once I was through kicking myself for having missed out on the first performance of “I Am The Doctor,” it was with great anticipation and excitement that I submitted my application for “This Is Gallifrey/Vale Decem.” The subsequent wait to receive sheet music was agonizing. I have never checked my e-mail more frequently or at more inappropriate moments. In fact, at the very second that I received the e-mail notification that the sheet music and midi files were available, I was knee deep in a fetid swamp being eaten alive by ravenous mosquitos and horse flies (I may be of the wild and feral variety but I still carry a smartphone and you’d be surprised where you get service). It was with great giddiness that I sloshed back to town that day. My impatience got the better of me, though, and I was unable to wait to get home to look up the sheet music. With a few furtive glances over my shoulder to where the entrance to the men’s washroom loomed (my desk is located in prime real estate next to the loos) I brought up the music on my work computer. Needless to say I was so engrossed that I was eventually caught by a colleague who had indulged in too much coffee. Lucky for me, my nerdy confession won the day and produced bellows of laughter instead of a stern rebuke. When the laughter ebbed away, it was replaced with a sincere curiosity. It seems even the most hardened of bush men can be swayed by the charm of Murray Gold’s music.
Which leads me to my final confession: when it comes to film and television I notice the music before the plot and I am fascinated by Murray Gold’s compositions. I have spent many hours enraptured by the themes, motifs, and anthems he incorporates into his music. It is clear that I am not alone in this regard if DWFO participation numbers are anything to go by. So to all my fellow musicians I say greetings and salutations; keep the creative channels open. And to Stephen Willis and Robin LaPasha I say thank you for the wonderful job you’ve done in putting this whole project together. May the blue box one day alight on your doorstep.