Chris Miller
Heavy metal has always existed at the intersection of power and chaos—a genre defined by its extremes, by the tension between control and abandon. For composer Andrew Gordon Macpherson, translating that intensity into music for Hulu’s Into the Void meant finding the emotional core beneath the distortion. The docuseries dives deep into the mythology of metal legends, from Dimebag Darrell to Randy Rhoads, exploring not just the sound but the spirit of a movement built on defiance, individuality, and raw emotion.
Macpherson’s score walks a fine line between reverence and reinvention. Drawing on his own roots in punk and metal, he builds a sonic world where feedback becomes texture, noise becomes narrative, and melody emerges from chaos. The result is a soundscape that mirrors metal’s duality—both brutal and beautiful, dangerous and deeply human. In the conversation below, Macpherson opens up about his creative process, from recording stripped-down sessions in his home studio to crafting feedback-driven string sections that blur the line between score and sound design. He discusses how metal’s attitude informs his compositional choices, the balance between live performance and electronic manipulation, and the challenge of capturing a genre that has always been larger than life without losing its soul.
Watch Andrew behind the scenes here.
Metal often thrives on extremes—volume, speed, atmosphere. How did you play with those extremes in your score to avoid overwhelming the narrative?
I guess I leaned into the atmosphere more than the others by creating these guitar feedback string sections. It was taking a lot of the “metal” elements and processing with filters and rhythmic gates as well as different lo-fi and reverb effects so that all the distinguishing ingredients are there but it’s wrapping around the dialogue with “cinematic techniques.”
What role did live musicians play in the score, versus samples and digital production?
I played everything except the extra electric guitars for the Dimebag episode. That was guitar, bass, some percussion, some piano and mellotron, some electric cello—and then there are synths and strings and winds and drums/percussion I programmed as well.
What was your studio setup like—did you keep it stripped down like a band’s rehearsal space, or fully cinematic?
We recorded the Dimebag sessions at Noble Street Studios in Toronto, but the rest was done at my stripped down home studio. I mainly record my Geddy Lee Jazz Bass and Silvertone Jupiter through a Roland Jazz Chorus with various pedals, but I really like Death by Audio and Electro Harmonix. I have a Moog Grandmother and Sub37, Korg Triton and M3 and Minilogue synth, A Yamaha Silent (electric) Cello, Adam A7s and Auratone monitors…Lots of sample-based orchestral instruments and synths.
How did you musically convey the danger, rebellion, and outsider spirit that’s always been part of metal’s DNA?
I kind of let the original artist’s music do that and focused on the humanity of the people involved in the stories for the score…There were times where I had to tap into the confident strut or rallying energy of metal, but these films deal with a different dimension of the metal world and thus needed to express a wider variety of emotion than the genre itself; but also, who would try to compete with the greatest metal bands at their own game?
How did you handle scoring the darker, more destructive sides of metal culture versus its celebratory, empowering aspects?
I just create what harmonically feels authentic and propels the story forward and then augment that with “music production.” So that means finding sounds like the muted, out of tune piano, and feedback manipulated to sound delicate, and out of control synth noise, squeezed into metal rhythms that impressionistically evokes self-destruction or disease or whatever the story needs. Like sound design from the tools of music.
Do you see your score as bridging the gap between die-hard metal fans and viewers who might be new to the genre?
I hope that my score enhances the stories which can appeal to anybody, and that it paints with the palette of heavy metal enough to appeal to the die-hards more deeply or on another level.
Did you ever have to “unlearn” your instincts as a composer to embrace the rawness of metal?
I think I had to unlearn some of the rawness of metal on my journey to be a composer. I didn’t start at the conservatory, I started in noisy punk and metal bands and making hip hop beats. So I got to downtune and figure out how to make the strings work in this context instead of the other way around. Then again, there are modes and time-signatures that are very useful for storytelling that you don’t often hear in a metal context so the two disciplines can challenge each other.
Was there a moment when you surprised yourself with how heavy or experimental you were willing to go?
The “whammy symphony” I created for the Dimebag Darrell episode didn’t work out EXACTLY as I anticipated, but the way the parts resembled slide-guitar unintentionally evoked Texas, which is relevant to the story and a happy accident. I also thought that classic analog synth sounds wouldn’t work and I would totally avoid them but they ended up coming in handy a couple of times.
First metal album you ever bought?
Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Listening to “War Pigs” and “Planet Caravan” for the first time on my discman is a core musical memory and informs almost everything I’ve done.
Band or artist that made you fall in love with heavy music?
It’s gotta be Black Sabbath. I think their “feel” in the rhythm section is amazing and Tony Iommi’s repertoire of riffs he wrote is second to none. I am always trying to get that incomparable mix of melody and hook and power. What an amazing writer.
