Ahhhh, the ‘temp track’. Also known as the ‘temp score’, temporary music track or ‘scratch track’ – I’ve heard it called many names, some more, er… derogatory than others.
There are several facts about the temp of which I’m certain, though: Editors need them, Directors fall in love with them and they are the Composer’s nemesis.
What is a ‘Temp Track’
Temp tracks are used by editors in TV and film. By using pre-existing music in roughly the right tempo and tone, it’s much easier to cut the picture and show it to the director and anyone else who has input on the project.
The problem with Temp Tracks:
Any music that plays with picture will ‘work’ with that picture. It might be hilariously incongruent or wildly inappropriate, but it will always add something. Listening to the same piece of music with the same pictures means your brain will become used to that association – recency and repetition can be interpreted as if you really like what you’re seeing and hearing.
Familiarity breeds attachment (before boredom and, of course, inevitable contempt). The known, the familiar, and the predictable all feel very safe – your brain knows what to expect so it rewards you with lovely brain chemicals to keep you in that secure, familiar, predictable space.
But the known, that familiar, predictable, safe, cosy feeling your brain rewards you with after getting used to that temp track… it’s a dangerous illusion, and it may keep you from finding better ways of putting new music to picture.
So what’s a director, onboarding a new composer, to do?
Solution 1: Strip the music back as soon as the composer comes on board.
You, as director, editor, producer or maker, might be able to convince your composer to listen to the temp track maybe once, twice at most, but don’t be surprised if they, collaboratively and helpfully, request not to hear it at all.
There are times I wish I’d done this, but, in my early career, I sometimes lacked a certain confidence. There’s a fine line between being collaborative and a pushover; similarly, it’s a hair’s breadth between being assertive for the music’s sake, and being aggressive just to get your own way.
In those early days, it took a braver fellow than I to request, ‘no temp please,’ and not feel like a demanding chump. I blame the patriarchy – perhaps I was socialised to not ‘rock the boat’. But now, with the wisdom of age, comes another solution…
Solution 2: Create a mood or tone folder, and put all your temp tracks in there, separate from the picture.
I’ve heard this called a ‘scratch’ folder. A composer will happily listen to reference tracks to zone in on exactly what you as the director want from the score. It’s a really useful shortcut – budgets and schedules don’t often allow for the fabulous luxury of wide-open experimentation so instead being able to give a few tonal constraints in a scratch folder often saves time. Alternatively, dispense with the scratch folder (or keep in reserve) and instead…
Solution 3: Expand your vocabulary.
Often a composer just needs a few words describing emotion, tone, or a feeling. Language is a funny, nebulous thing, especially when it comes to describing something as ambiguous as music, but the more specific you can get with the words, and the more often you, directors, editors and your composers work together, the more this vocabulary will expand and become unified between the two of you.
Onto the very best of solutions, the gold standard…
Solution 4: Trust your composer.
The best of all solutions: bring the composer in at the script stage, pre-production, during production, or before the edit. Have them write a suite of music or several sketches that cover any themes and the basic tonal requirements of the film. Then use that as the temp.
This is always the best course of action simply because it allows for experimentation – time and freedom to get it wrong, to make mistakes, and to go down compositional dead-ends; to find surprising, unexpected answers to questions you didn’t know needed answering; and (most important of all) to play.
On this page about StarDog and Turbocat, you can hear some of my early sketches. Compared to the finished score, some of the music was very different, and some of it made it into the film wholesale. As a composer, I always appreciate the collaborative process of experimenting with musical ideas early in the process, and the music always benefits from a long lead-in.
In my experience, being brought in early enough in the process tends to happen only at the extremes of the scale – very low-to-no-budget indies and much bigger-budget scores, with directors who care about the integration of the music rather than using it as an afterthought.
A caveat: I’m guilty of having quite liked temp tracks in the past.
When I was younger and occasionally stuck for ideas (as can often happen when one is anxious about getting it ‘right’ and not ‘stuffing up’ an opportunity), I got scared rather than seeing that fear as a normal part of the process.
I disliked the discomfort of not knowing (understandably). So I’d use the temp as a structural guide – where it synced with action, that’s what I’d aim for. Where the temp had a specific palette or style, I’d emulate that.
My music was original enough, but the flavours came from the temp. It was incredibly useful as an education – writing music in any style outside of my comfort zone taught me invaluable techniques – but having the confidence to say ‘please kindly remove the temp in any movie files for me’ came later.
The person providing the video files can always pop the music in a separate folder for the composer.
Moral of the tale: from the point of view of this composer, reference tracks are great; temp tracks are evil. Case closed.
Image: I Aboud