Carolan also wanted all of the vocals in his score to sound “otherworldly.” He achieved this with  constant vocal layering in the mix and making the choir’s vocal dynamics change throughout a specific piece. One minute they will sound very full, as if being sung outdoors, and the next they are whispers in your ear, almost like demented, foreboding spirits. Add on the recruitment of true vocal anomalies – like one of the nation’s lowest voices – and the picture is completed. 

“We brought in this guy, Adrian Peacock, who is one of the only basso profundos in the UK and can do incredible things with his voice where it doesn’t even sound human.”

The language sung in Nosferatu’s score may sound like Latin, but it is Dacian, a dead language that predates the Romanian empire and is specific to the region of the Carpathian Mountains, where Orlok’s castle lies. 

“Here’s the thing that separates Rob’s input from other directors,” Carolan says. “Most people think Orlok is speaking Romanian in the film and most people would have had the choir sing in Romanian because it’s easier. But Rob’s backstory has Orlok as this super ancient noble that speaks in a forgotten tongue. So it had to be Dacian and the choir had to sing in Dacian. It’s  these little details that really make the greater whole of his films.” 

To get into the Nosferatu headspace, together with Eggers, Carolan made several eclectic playlists, sometimes days in length, featuring 20th-century composers like Béla Bartók and Franz Liszt, but also more modern experimental artists like Coil, Burial, and even the indie synth-pop artist, Sky Ferreira. 

“There is one Sky Ferreira track called ‘Downhill Lullaby,’ which is kind of like a dark pop track, but I don’t know, I became quite obsessed with it,” Carolan says. “It has like those dark sexy strings, but it’s also kind of fucked, and it really influenced how I tackled some of the scenes early on.”

This wasn’t the first time Carolan worked with Eggers. The two were actually friends before working together on films professionally. Carolan also worked in tandem with Sebastian Gainsborough (who makes music under the moniker Vessel) to create the score for Eggers’ bloody Viking epic, The Northman. That was the first time Carolan made music for the screen, something he calls his “baptism by fire.” 

“The Northman was set like a thousand years ago, so I had to do a huge amount of research into weird, archaic Viking instruments and the score had to be rough and raw. Rob wanted it to sound ‘caked in blood and mud,’ so it’s not very enjoyable to listen to at times and it was very tough to make because it was very pummeling.”

This shift from the ragged and broken nature of The Northman score to the anxiety-inducing yet more melodic and sensual Nosferatu score was incredibly satisfying for Carolan, leading him to construct one of his favourite pieces of music he’s ever created: “Daybreak,” Nosferatu’s majestic eight-minute musical denouement. 

“I love that track and I put everything I had into it,” Carolan says. “It’s a collision of the Ellen theme and Orlok theme interweaving with one another and a lot is going on in those last 10 minutes, so emotions are constantly shifting and being smashed together. So the music becomes very symphonic with the orchestra giving it their all.”

This orchestral flourish throughout Nosferatu is something Carolan admits he’s been missing when it comes to modern horror scores. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m really happy we are leaving that sort of ‘80s, synth-wavy, John Carpenter vibe,” he says. “Carpenter’s films and scores are incredible, but it seems like tons of modern horror films have been like ‘Oh, we’re doing a horror score, bring on the synth.’”

Although, he says that within the last few years, it seems composers are getting more experimental. “It’s hard to reinvent the wheel with horror scores because so much good stuff has already been done. I mean, The Shining has already been done, so I say make way for experimentation.”