| For the best part of
30 years Brian Bennett lived a secret double life...in the public
eye as the drummer with the balls-achingly tedious combo The Shadows,
hiding behind Cliff & Hank's perma-grins...and then afterwards
retreating to the darkened corners of London's recording studios
where he metamorphosised into the composer of hundreds of hours'
worth of jazzy soundtrack and library material. A major session
face with the likes of Joe Meek through the early rock years,
Bennett later took the reigns as not only Cliff Richard's musical
director in his solo years, but also trudging around with the
likes of Tom Jones and, God save us, Denis 'Minder' Waterman.
Bennett's library work is virtually unknown to the popular consciousness,
yet also instantly familiar to almost everyone and eagerly sought
by the determined few. See our guide to collecting British
library albums for more.. |
|
|
His first release,
which highlighted his jazzy tendencies, was 'Change Of Direction'
(EMI, 1967). Working with his session right-hand-man Alan Hawkshaw,
the album shows the depth of the work he could produce - from
beaty cover-versions like 'Sunshine Superman' and 'On Broadway'
to organ-driven originals 'Slippery Jim Grize' and 'Tricycle'.
Much of the album features the oh-so-sweet flute of Alan Skidmore
and was produced by Shads Svengali Norrie Paramour.
|
 |
The most desirable
of Bennett's solo releases has to be 'The Illustrated London
Noise' (Studio2Stereo, 1969). This is no different to the other
Bennett solo albums; a few great tracks, a few okay tracks and
some you'd rather not play again! Top of the pile is the well-known
'Soul Mission' with it's thumpin' drums and catchy organ groove.
Other Bennett originals include 'Chameleon' - great track...
and 'General Mojo's Well-Laid Plan' is a great version, worth
your time. Add to this a couple of Beatles tunes performed in
a swingin' fashion and we're home and dry.
|
 |
There's no escaping the past, and
Bennett's involvement in The Shadows has recently lead to certain
titles from their voluminous back catalogue being bigged-up something
rotten on dealer lists and of course, the dreaded Ebay, primarily
due to the involvement of Brian's pal Alan Hawkshaw on the organ.
The first of these is 'Shades Of Rock' (EMI, 1970), where the
band soldier on grimly through an album full of cover versions;
some good, some bad, some awful, rather depending on how stupid
Hank wanted to make his axe sound that day, bless him. 'Proud
Mary' is none too bad and 'Satisfaction' just about emerges intact,
but that's about yer lot! |
 |
Since it has recently been reissued
on CD billed as 'Brian Bennett's Collage', we had better include
'Misty' (Studio2Stereo, 1973). By-and-large its a sedate affair,
with one nice moody groover in the shape of 'Madrid' that dealers
will have you pay well over the odds for. |
 |
More Shads action, but no Hawkshaw
involvement on this one, and more's the pity. However you might
well see 'Specs Appeal' (EMI, 1975) going for far too much money
in trendy stores due to the presence of the very pedestrian drum
intro to 'Spider Juice'. Actually, the track itself isn't so bad
really, with dear old Hank giving his axe some stick for once
on a track you could easily mistake for something off a later
Bennett library album...trouble is, it was Hank wot rote it! |
 |
The final bit of worthwhile Shads
is with 'Rarities' (EMI, 1978), a compilation issued as a companion
to the demise of their latest incarnation at the time...but they'd
be back, and it would be even more twangy! Ooof! Let's not dwell
on those horrors, but instead focus on the pair of rather nice
tracks here. The amusingly titled 'Scotch On The Socks' is pretty
rousing stuff, with Hank coming over all Jeff Beck (60's version).
Elsewhere, you'll also find 'Boogatoo'; funky, yet tinged with
a little too much shrill twanging for comfort... |
 |
Back to Mr. Bennett's
own stuff, and an album well worth investing in, despite its
title is 'Voyage, A Journey Into Discoid Funk', (DJM, 1978).
On the whole it's a bit slap-bass-tastic and features Francis
Monkman on synthesiser - the man who graced John Keatings' 'Space
Experience' albums. The exception is the majestic 'Solstice',
which has been deservedly pillaged by samplers down the years.
A slow-paced number that moves along in a very Bob James kinda
way, incorporating smooth space-age synths. Unfortunately someone
bought the bass player a flanger for Christmas, so throughout
the rest of the tracks we are 'treated' to a bit too much of
that new toy for anyone's liking, thank you very much.
|
|
One Bennett album
to give the body-swerve to has to be the awful 'Rock Dreams'
(DJM, 1977): proper Shads style songs throughout we are very
much afraid to say…nasty !
|
|
| After
studying classical music in Paris as a teenager, Denjean felt
the lure of more contemporary things and he formed his own dance
band and accompanied several popular French singers of the day,
performers with names that mean nothing to us Brits. However,
soon he struck paydirt on an international scale by arranging
for Charles Aznavour. Denjean clearly built up a nice little nest-egg
from all of this, as he later quit France and relocated to Canada.
With the newfound freedom of not having to provide syrupy backing
for tired old cabaret acts he dived headlong into the world of
electronic music when he discovered the Moog synthesiser. We might
not know much about the man, but his legacy is a fine one. |
|
In fact 'Moog' (Phase
4, 1971) must be one of the most essential Moog-ified albums
there are. The song choices look lame at first glance, but it's
the extensive use of the wibble button that really bigs this
one up. Many Moog albums were produced during the 70's with
some dude just going through the motions with lackluster pop
melodies. Not so here. Bright invention springs forth with great
regularity and the up-tempo numbers are simply stunning. In
the world of Moog, it's really difficult to beat his takes on
'Venus' and 'Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye'...They are just
steaming! Easily picked up wherever cheese is sold, so shame
on you if you haven't got a copy already.
|
 |
| There are a couple more Moog-styled
offerings from Denjean to check out, and the follow up 'Open Circuit'
(Phase 4, 1973) is worth a dabble, though strangely commanding
a higher price, yet offering substantially less. A decent run
through of 'Let's Stay Together' is the only highlight apart from
the very, very wonderfully 'Kiss This', on which a mucky-sounding
French bird occasionally makes just that very reasonable invitation
over a big beaty backing that really cooks. Rude not to!
|
 |
|
A few years pass before
the next release, and it is clear that these were the disco
years, as 'Moods' (Phase 4, 1977) is more than a bit 'Fifth
Of Beethoven' in places, as a few stuffy perennial themes are
approached, such as 'My Way' and 'Moon River' All is not lost,
as the Moog is retained throughout, and works best on the up-tempo
Latin numbers 'Desormais' and 'El Cumbanchero'. Also, there
is a slightly disturbing Moody Blues connection, with Denjean's
own personal homage 'Memories Of The Moody Blues', churning
up 'Nights In White Satin' in epic style. Couple this with the
similarity throughout with the style of Jeff Wayne's 'War Of
The Worlds', released the following year, which of course had
Justin Hayward all over it, and you start to see the bigger
picture!
|
 |
|
| Johnny Harris was a
very big player in the world of Lounge, and yet all too often
remained behind the scenes, but who would really want to take
the blame for the likes of Englebert Humperdinck? Harris started
out tooting away as a trumpeter after graduating from the Guildhall
School of Music and gradually made his way up the musical ranks
to that of band leader and arranger. As well as the albums featured
here, you'll find his work peppered over many TV and film soundtracks
of American origin during the late 70's and early 80's, when Harris
relocated to Hollywood, most notably perhaps being his background
music for Wonder Woman! Blimey! |
 |
An early effort that will reward
your bravery is the Guitar Workshop album, 'Pop go the Classics'
(Pye, 1966). Harris takes the majority of the arrangement credits
and Tony Hatch chips in with a couple of his own, as some jazzy
session men like Ronnie Verrell are let lose on a few classical
tunes. It works a whole lot better than you'd think, with at least
a couple of beaty movers to enjoy and the odd cracking drum break
hiding away in there too...G'wan, give it a whirl! |
 |
Its back to earth with a bump on
'Plays Lionel Bart' (UA, 1966), unless your longings for bright
and breezy trots of stuff from Oliver! are overly large. The
one pictured here is a 70's reissue on the cheapie Sunset label,
but we don't advise that you lose any beauty sleep trying to
track down the original...
The year 1970 was a very good 'un
for Johnny Harris. For a start he was brought in to conduct
and arrange the sessions for 'Something' (UA, 1970) which at
the time probably seemed little more than yet another Shirley
Bassey album. But Harris had a plan...
|
|
|
he brought in a
tiny combo named Heads, Hands And Feet to provide the backing,
instead of the pearl-dripping orchestral extravaganza that old
Dame Shirl usually busted her nuts over. This new setting did
the stuff all right. The old gal belts out 'Light My Fire' like
few others before or since, over a funky little backdrop brushed
with flute and brassy stabs. Magic! Same goes for the take on
'Spinning Wheel'. Shame
is that all the other numbers, while
all maintaining the same small-scale basic
tracks, are smothered in a hundred
million
bloody violins in the prescribed manner and are thus rendered
entirely useless as a result.
I'll bet
this was done at record company insistence or after Mr. Harris
was finished with the sessions. Bastards!
|
 |
The evidence of this is contained within the grooves of Harris'
own 'Movements' (Warner Bros, 1970). Here
we have for all to see, the very same backing tracks for 'Light
My Fire' and 'Something', plus a whole albums' worth of top
groovers. Wow, you don't see this for cheap, and rightly so.
This whole album must have been laid down during the studio
downtime for 'Something'. It's the same band all right, but
boy are they let loose here. No longer tied into stodgy standards
they let rip at Harris' originals for the soundtrack of the
David Hemmings movie 'Fragments of Fear'. That
number is something special indeed - slow and moody with acres
of flute, keys and wah-wah guitar that stretch out for ever
and ever.
|
|
It's followed up by the most frenetic
drum & bass workout there is, bar none. 'Stepping Stones'
just rattles along for ages as instruments compete
for speed and endurance. It's like
nothing else you ever did hear. This spirit is echoed over on
side two where there are possibly the strangest and strongest
interpretations of 'Give Peace A Chance' and 'Paint It Black'
that are in existence. This is one killer
of an album. Gawd bless you Mr. Harris!
|
 |
A hard act to follow indeed, but
after a couple of years of so-so film themes like 'Man In The
Wilderness' Harris returned with a very grand statement in the
shape of 'All To Bring You Morning' (Warner Bros, 1973). The album
is a tad more orchestral than its predecessor, with a couple more
of his favoured Beatles-related covers that aren't anything to
write home about. The monolith around which the rest of the tracks
congregate is the 14-minute title track. Blimey! It's BIG! Split
into four distinct passages, in turn gentle and fiercely beaty,
it delivers in the most majestic fashion, going through everything
from cop show wah guitar to laid-back funk and a rather disturbing,
yet thankfully brief passage |
| where the unmistakably
shrill and whining vocals of Jon Anderson are to be heard. The
Y*s connection is indeed heavy as both Steve Howe and Alan White
appear throughout. Bit of a puzzle that, as they certainly didn't
need the session fee at the time. Unfortunately for us, they were
probably down the corridor struggling with 'Tales Of Topographic
Oceans', and therefore were in dire need of a bit of light relief.
Bastards! |
| |
| Francis Lai |
| |
| Lai, poor fella, started
out as Edith Piaf's accompanist in her last days in Paris. Before
long, he was moving with the French movie set and won an Oscar
for the soundtrack to Claude Lelouch's 'A Man and A Woman'. Such
luminaries as Roger Vadim and Jean-Luc Goddard were soon swarming
like bees round a honey pot trying to squeeze another soundtrack
smash out of him. In the end, Lai composed the music for more
than one hundred films, from the saucy ('Emmanuelle II') to the
stultifying ('International Velvet'), but is perhaps most famous
for his nauseating theme for "'Love Story', although these days
everyone this side of the pond will recognise his sparkling Eurotrash
theme 'Saint Tropez'. |
 |
Let's kick things off with a Lai
soundtrack that delivers a lot more than you'd think. Everyone
will be familiar with the breezy title theme for 'Live For Life
(UA, 1967), of which there are numerous versions here, the best
being saved until the end and possessing much ooh-la-la! There's
also the beaty vocal track 'All At Once Its Love' that really
is rather excellent and then the smashing la-la pop of 'Zoom'
with some sweet organ and banging drums for your money. Its a
happy accident that the trio of tracks that you'll keep returning
to are sequenced at the end of the LP, which saves on track skipping.
Most considerate! |
 |
The hit rate rises substantially
on 'I'll Never Forget What's'isname' (Decca, 1968), as it is laced
with a good half-dozen little belters for your money. There's
a couple falling into each of three categories; beaty pop vocal
groovers, like 'Party Music-Show Out' and 'Keep it Cool'; smooth
seductive slow instrumentals like 'Boutique Music' and 'Meeting
Susannah', and then the real money shots; a pair of great funky
numbers with 'Radio Music' and 'Party Music', which are both utterly
excellent!!! |
 |
Hmmm...not exactly a great many
opportunities to slip cheesy groovers into the soundtrack for
a thriller that used the winter Olympics as a backdrop, but Lai
still delivers an interesting, if not funky score for 'Thirteen
Days in France' (Sonet, 1969). A good half of the cuts are ballads
sung in French...not really an enticing prospect...but there are
a couple of jazzy orchestral numbers to enjoy, especially the
frenetic and pacey 'Descente'. One for confirmed Lai-lovers to
be honest. |
 |
As if the Olympics wasn't bad enough,
'Hannibal Brooks' (UA, 1969) is a war film about an elephant...any
funk to find then? You Betcha!!! Admittedly, most of the tracks
have a decidedly military feel to them, but persevere and you
will come across a pair of cracking beaty groovers; 'Elephant
Shake' and 'Lucy's Theme'. Both have the requisite elephantine
brass, but matched up with urgent drums they really do the biz! |
 |
'Hello-Goodbye' (20th Century, 1970)
was one of those cheeky pan-European movies of the day, with stars
from all corners being groovy on the Riviera. Inexplicably the
romantic lead appears to be Michael Crawford, who shall forever
remain as Frank Spencer round these parts, no matter how hard
he tries to forget. Never mind, for there are a good few spanking
tunes to enjoy. 'Journey To Marseilles' starts off slowly then
fills up with Gallic funk and 'Destination Le Havre' is splendidly
dramatic and very Roy Budd. Top of the heap has to be 'No Need
To Cry', with a decent vocal version and a blinding instrumental
take both full of freaky fuzz guitars and swinging Mademoiselles.
Magnifique! |
 |
Here's one for the Lai connoisseur;
'Rider on the Rain' (Somethin' Else, 1970) is often a very ponderous
and dark offering, most likely in keeping with the film itself.
Its enjoyable listening, right enough, with lost of minute-long
tracks that you wish were longer, like the sitar and vibes cut
'Theme des Voitures' and a clutch of nice jazzy tunes too numerous
to mention. There is one solitary beaty groover to be had; 'Theme
Bestial', which again is criminally short at just over a minute...
|
|

|
|
| Oh dear. Just when
Lai was on a roll, he goes and coughs up a couple of duffers.
Despite what you'll be thinking, 'Love Story' (Paramount, 1970)
does have a couple of nice tunes on it; the wistful 'Snow Frolic'
and the equally pleasing 'I Love You Phil'...sentiments that sound
a bit 'Eastenders' in this day and age. Another one you'll only
want to grab for pence if you can is 'The Legend Of Frenchie King'
(MFP, 1972), although it usually books for stupid money with the
Bardot-factor weighing a heavy toll. There is only one decent
track really, as you can imagine being a western its banjo-packed,
but 'Attack On The Train' gives up the goods on its all too brief
appearance. |
 |
Next up is a UK-only
compilation 'The Man & His Music' (MFP, 1974). This serves as
a showcase for an awful lot of movie theme schlock, but tips
us the wink to look out for his soundtrack to 'African Summer'
as the title track presented here is a stormer, full of saucy
sax and piano.
|
 |
Here we are then! At the height
of her fame at the turn of the 70's, monsieur Lai had the odious
task of writing some tunes for Brigitte Bardot's regular TV specials...poor
chap! You'll find them, along with some smashing Gainsbourg tracks
and some other rather limp gear on 'Brigitte Bardot' (AZ, 1974).
Arranged by Christian Gaubert in the most cheesy fashion, 'Marseillaise
Generique' and 'Saint Tropez' are of course fantastic in ways
only French la-la pop can be...nuff said! |
 |
Again featuring arrangements by
Christian Gaubert, 'The Baby Sitter' (RCA, 1975) is something
of a departure in style for Lai, as he takes on board a good dose
of that 'discoid-funk' thing for the best tracks. Most of the
tracks are drama-building orchestral pieces, but with the two
tracks entitled 'Ann's Theme' the Fender-Rhodes is wheeled out
and the band get down and groove for a good long stretch, making
this one very desirable album that doesn't grow on trees! |
 |
Oooh La La! Naughty Sylvia Kristel
sings for us on 'Emmanuelle 2' (WIP, 1975). Not the height of
her, ahem, talents, its fair to say! This soundtrack is not one
of your sleazy, funky porno efforts, oh no: it's an altogether
classier affair. Shame really. For the most part it's a bit on
the sedate side, with lingering strings and so forth. Just about
the only highlight is the Moog-laden 'Les Fantasmes D'Emmanuelle',
which is very reminiscent of one of the slower tracks from any
of the John Keating 'Space Experience' albums. Think of space
stations in docking procedure, hmmm, that must be it… |
 |
Finally, 'Bilitis' (Warners, 1977)
is one that is most regularly seen priced up in shops with a massive
'BREAK' sticker on it, but can be regularly spotted for pence.
Never seen the film, but from the sleeve we can take a wild guess
that it concerns certain young nymphets and their 'sexual awakenings'!
Nice! There are a couple of extended late period funky cheese
workouts that are up to muster, namely 'I Need A Man' (bet she
got one !) and 'Rainbow' (containing the aforementioned two seconds
of drums). |
| |
|