DIETER SPEARS, Le Carnavale Du Macabre

Considering the transcendent, progressive, rhythmically eclectic and wild sonic surprises Dieter Spears has electrified our ears with in recent years, perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that he blesses us this Halloween with the ultimate spooky treat – Le Carnavale Du Macabre, artfully designed as the standalone soundtrack to DeathHaus, a compelling, edge of your seat horror film he is currently seeking financing for. Beyond its massive expanse of haunting, mystery filled charms, it’s probably the only album in history to simultaneously pay homage to two of pop culture’s favorite Carpenters, legendary director John Carpenter and singer Karen Carpenter!

Beyond his prolific output as an instrumental composer/keyboardist with tastes, talents and aural visions on the cutting edge, Dieter is a multi-faceted creative whose unique musical endeavors bookend decades of achievement in the visual arts. Between his immersion in the 90’s Nashville club scene with several popular bands and his recent emergence as Owner/VP and artist recording for Wayfarer Music Group, he worked as a graphic designer and freelance photographer before launching Inhaus Creative, a freelance audio/graphic/video company that enjoyed a ten year run as one of the top Getty/Istock Photographers in the world with over a million licensed images. It was only a matter of time before moviemaking became part of Dieter’s artistic palette, and in 2009, he served as executive producer of the indie horror film LWA: All Saints Eve and later worked on a number of short films.

The backstory of the album includes a classic blend of artistic triumph and breakthroughs tempered by the sometimes frustrating reality of being an indie filmmaker. The roots/creative spark that gave rise to DeathHaus and the creepy, suspenseful and haunting, “altogether ookey” Le Carnavale Du Macabre came from Dieter’s accessibility to haunted houses. With his stock photography business, he was always looking for unique things to photograph that would set his company apart from competitors. He befriended a few special effects makeup artists and was able to create some amazing scary images, an opportunity that inspired him to write a screenplay for a proposed film shot in haunted houses. His thought was that because these structures already existed, he could keep the production costs down.

Nearly a decade ago, he began developing the twisted vision for DeathHaus, which has yet to secure the funding it deserves partially due to the pandemic lockdown. Yet out of that unmade film came a (quite literally) breathtaking element that, like determined zombies on the loose, refused to die – the music! Dieter had written an entire suite of haunting, cinematic pieces for its scenes, which he describes as “dark, uneasy and beautifully disturbing.”

To his excellent words, I would add…creepy, adventurous, deeply ambient/immersive, heart-pounding, avant-garde, spine—chilling, shocking, harrowing, just to name a few of the horror-centric adjectives that my brain conjured up via the eerie rollercoaster of emotions as I listened all the way through. Rather than letting these impactful pieces of music drift off into the shadows, Dieter, to the delight of his fans and all lovers of horror film music, reimagined the collection as a 40-minute sonic descent through madness and illusion. He calls Le Carnavale Du Macabre “the soundtrack to keep the lights on for. Sweet dreams not included.”

As brave listeners dare to venture from the ominous opening spoken word opening track “The Ringmaster” through the speedy paced, hard grooving funk/rock “closing credits” theme “Deathhaus,” the’re invited to use their imagination to conjure their own vision of what such a ghoulish, murderous carnaval or haunted house might be like. But for those who prefer to go along with Dieter’s expansive vision (much easier and a helluva lot wilder and more fun, for me anyway), the composer is pleased to share a website with tons of supplementary goodies for our trick or treat bags.

When you go to (Le Carnival Du Macabre - Inhaus Creative), you’re “greeted” with the huge visage of the scary as s*** character of Shankie the Clown, the psychotic former circus clown and special effects artist turned killer in Dieter’s scenario for DeathHaus. He’s holding a golden ticket reading, “VIP Admit One Soul.” If you dig into the supplementary material, you’ll learn that after his wife’s murder during his haunted house show, he went insane and fused his art with real violence. It’s his legend that drives the story’s mythology. He’s both killer and ghost – the physical embodiment of the cursed attraction.

Scroll down and you’ll see descriptions of each of the 11 songs on Le Carnavale Du Macabre, followed by links to Dieter’s original screenplay (co-written with David Buchert); a Book on Tape version featuring full cast and music; a Previs short featuring computer generated animation; the official DeathHaus short, created as a sales piece for the feature film, highlighting the backstory of young brothers Cameron and Grant, who disappeared in the DeathHaus years before the action of the main narrative; and a heavily illustrated Executive Summary, created to interest investors but intriguing for everyone who wants to dig deeper into the full experience.  

Uniquely, the digital release of Le Carnavale Du Macabre wraps with a 37-minute track titled “Le Carnavale Du Macabre Complete” for those who want to deep dive into the entire flow of Dieter’s musical imagination. Yet each individual track is a masterwork with a universe all its own connected to the unfolding story of DeathHaus; thus, each deserves its own description as part of the building narrative.

Dieter grabs our ears from the get-go with the foreboding, sonically intricate atmosphere of “The Ringmaster,” which introduces us to the demented host of the sonic carnival. The music was originally composed by Dieter’s partner in Wayfarer Music Group, Sean O’Bryan Smith, for the closing scene of the short film, and Dieter later blended it with one of his own compositions. It’s floating ongoing waves and swirls of ambience, creepy vibes (literally, vibraphone sounds), orchestral flair, emphatic percussion, haunting voices and screams and creaking doors lurk behind the dark, brooding French-accented inflections of veteran voice artist Bill Russell as he invites us in to “a spectacle stitched from your darkest dreams and most delicious fears. Step right in…if you dare.” If Disneyland ever gets tired of the voice currently populating their Haunted House attraction, Russell should take over! He’s brilliant at heightening the suspense of what we’re about to experience.

Opening with trippy computer game sounds, “Running in the Woods” is pure marching electronica rock perfection, swirling percussive energy with a tense, trippy melodic synth sequence to create the perfect soundtrack to the proposed scene where young Cameron runs terrified through the wood, pursued by someone unseen – until it’s revealed to be his cruel older brother. His brother is a total jerk, but we can breathe easy, at least for a few moments, that his life is not in danger.

If you’ve ever been trapped in a haunted house or imagined what a trip to hell would sound like the nonstop array of twisty, turny and eerie sound effects, dark ambiences and unearthly vocal sounds coming at you on “Freaks on Display” may sound familiar. Dieter’s intent was to capture the endless hallways, warped mirrors and silent onlookers who never blink. The question for those who survive the freak show is, are the freaks the ones doing the performing, or the ones watching? The composer follows this aural descent into creepsville with the dense, percussive ambient/electronica title track, whose hypnotic synth motif is followed by another of Russell’s intense welcomes and a bit of a carousel organ vibe whose tone mimics a ken down calliope, perhaps indicating that our villain is indeed a clown. This piece is Dieter’s successful attempt to craft a melodic hook worthy of John Carpenter’s theme to his seminal 1978 horror hit Halloween. It’s part carousel waltz, part funeral dirge and full-on demonic intensity all in one.

We next travel to some deceptive realms on “Light at the End of the Tunnel,” a full-on rock-tinged ambient journey infused with moody, intoxicating guitarisma, pipe banging percussion, soaring spaceyness and, toward the end, some intensifying cacophony before the darkened silence. It’s an amazing, multi-faceted piece on its own, but also serves as the perfect surrounding score for the scene where protagonist Britney and her boyfriend MK find themselves trapped in an asylum like hallway, hunted by Shankie. Imagine flickering lights, a red balloon as potential murder weapon and a young woman’s intensifying screams that merge with the ambience of the haunt. There’s no actual light leading out of the tunnel; it’s actually luring the victims in.

“Parlor of the Damned” is yet another grandeur filled showcase of Dieter’s suspense building ambient mastery. It’s blend of white noise, gentler ambiences and methodical, spine-chilling synth motif surrounds (engulfs?) young Cameron as he wanders a mortuary like chamber calling out for his brother/tormentor. He hears a laugh, then bolts for his life. Dieter sees this one as playing “like a sinister waltz for the dead – music for a funeral that never ends.”

For all of Dieter’s compositional magic – displayed also on his numerous and diverse recent solo albums – hands down the most colorful and fascinating track is the dystopian, grungy, intentionally off kilter and slightly off-key twist on the Carpenters’ cheery early 70’s classic “We’ve Only Just Begun.” With actor and haunt performer Jaymz “Mez” Banks’ passionate yet chilling, weirded out vocals atop Dieter’s crunchy guitars and sweep of sonic oddities, this production artfully turns Paul Williams’ hopeful lyrics about a beautiful life together into a sinister rumination on Shankie’s ongoing desire to murder as a means of exploring his hideous origin story. If you listen to 70’s pop songs, it’s likely – and this is clearly Dieter’s intention - you’ll never feel peaceful about listening to the Carpenters’ version again after this. Fun fact: Banks also portrayed Moribum Stockton, a sadistic henchman in both the DeathHaus short and the audiobook version.  

The title “Lri-Geht-Tuc” (Cut the Girl backwards) is perfect for the brief, ear shattering, constantly intensifying track, ending in what sounds like butcher knife slices over brooding atmospheres. It’s a moment in the story where two survivors stumble upon their friend bound on an altar, surrounded by candlelit monks chanting the inscrutable title. Dieter removed the original chanting and choking sounds to make the standalone album more PG, but rest assured when the movie DeathHaus gets made (and it will happen!), they’ll be back.

Leading up to the hard chugging, electronic rock and roll masterpiece “DeathHaus” composed to run over the end credits and leave our hearts pounding (and naturally featuring the maniacal laugh of Bill Russell), Dieter’s got a few more tricks and treats in store. With three survivors remaining, one of the lead characters, Foster, frantically seeks the exit of Le Carnavale Du Macabre, only to go for a pulsating, blood pumping, horribly warped sonics infused spin through the “Tunnel of Delusions,” where Shankie waits on the opposite side. This track brings Dieter’s fusion of surreal sonics, melodic and rhythmic intensity and dark musical imagination to a fevered, no holds barred pitch. Only one thing to do after that: “Run”!!! This propulsive electro-rocker was designed as an interlude accompanying chase scenes and/or mounting panic that he could, can and will eventually use throughout the film.

So if you have the cajones, have a strong heart that can withstand lots of shocks and want to live a Halloween experience every day, join Dieter Spears and company for an immersive experience like none other before in the crazy-cool, twisted horror filled realm of Le Carnavale Du Macabre – a world where it’s always thriller night!