I enjoy creativity spurred by another’s similar spark. Such is the case with Alpha Ralpha Boulevard, inspired by a piece of science fiction from Cordwainer Smith. To turn a story into wordless interpretation is no small feat, but the energetic pulse of Cremator’s musical vision to a tale of a society at the dawn of a new individuality is palpable whether you’ve read Smith’s work or not. Yet the bigger challenge is removing Smith’s story from the equation: what do we have left without the backbone? Does Alpha Ralpha Boulevard stand on its own merit? It wouldn’t be worth writing about if it didn’t. Though flooded with manifests of orbital enlightenment and B-movie nostalgia, Cremator doesn’t fall for either though borrowing motifs from both. ARB is a classic; an homage to Schulze’s enthusiasm and the suspense of Alex North. But its rudimentary, bare bones, and unafraid to be simple or contemplative. If we are truly floating through space, ladies and gentlemen, then we should not be afraid to stare into the vast galaxy and face our reflections in the stars. Cremator was fearless, now’s our turn.
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