Awful Science Music

The first time I remembered hearing science music was, naturally enough, at the Seattle Science Center Planetarium. In a darkened amphitheater, the constellations were shown on the domed ceiling while a narrator described what we were seeing. It’s the only time I’ve seen the Southern Cross and I didn’t have to board a freighter to Antarctica.
Before the show began, they played a background orchestral track of what I loathingly call ‘science music.’ It could as easily be called computer music, but it seems to be a favorite of the incurably Spok-like.
I can imagine the two hopelessly nerdy “composers” who first produced this stuff.
“Why can’t we just play a song from the Buddy Holly LP again?”
“The boss says we’d have to pay the licensing fees. And we can’t even afford the popcorn maker we installed last Tuesday.”
“No problem. My TRS-80 can play different frequencies. If we alternate through three of them fast enough, it sounds like a chord. Let me show you.”
“Hey, that sounds pretty good. That means we have everything we need to make music. We’ll just play different chords all strung together.”
“Right. I’ll go tell the boss. Maybe we can keep the popcorn maker.”
Science music is synthesized chord progressions meandering through endless transitions without a detectable melody.
Science music doesn’t appreciate the art of the musical phrase, the larger story being told musically. It reminds me of a scene from the movie “Soylent Green.” In that movie, citizens who are deemed unfit or too old were rendered down to their basic nutrients for the benefit of the collective. Before the prospective hors douvres were euthanized, they were shown a series of beautiful images and scenes from nature. The works of famous composers were piped into the room to lull the hopeless into submission. While they listened to Mozart or Brahms, they were on their way to the happy pastry parlor.
Science music actually has the opposite effect on me. I find myself growing more tense with every non-concluding, undirected musical non-phrase.
A famous composer – musicologists will hopefully forgive me for not remembering who – could be roused from sleep in the mornings by his mother’s musical trick. She played a series of chords on the harpsichord or piano and omitted the final resolving chord. The young musical prodigy was so distressed by the omission that he was forced to get up and play the ideal musical dénouement. By then, he was too awake to return to bed.
Lacking a message, science music is just so many constructive vibrational frequencies strewn together. People need content; they need a meaning to grasp.
My writing may sound intimate and warm. My words may flow with poise and grace. But without a reason to read it, it’s just science music on paper.
What do you think of science music or science music on paper?