Recommendations - JUNE 2005


What a fabulous name for a record. Lard Free. This is a mad thing. I have not done my research here but it is or was an original proggy thing that was then libraryfied. Or possibly visa versa. All music by this bloke called Gilbert Artman and this name means nothing to me either, although it is a really cool name. It truly is a bizarre recording and way, way ahead of its time. The titles of all the tracks are insane (like “Warinobaril”) and the music is even more so. It moves from electronic exotics to techno exotics with a bit or rock or so mething else chucked in PLUS what can only be described as massive head fucks too. I really love this record a lot. Bits of it sound like classic Carl Craigee Detroit stuff, and it was made in 1975, so not bad really. I have been chasing this wee beastie for bloody ages. Then I got one for half price. Off someone desperate to sell it, who needed the money. I felt real bad. Briefly.


Right, an Italian soundtrack, I believe issued initially as CAM library stock. Then issued as a soundtrack called Metranella Stein in Spain , and then also issued in Japan as this thing. This fierce shark thing. By the looks of it, it's not a nice film. I love underwater music and sweet cutesee clown fishey grooves, but underwater films where men really get mauled is not that nice.

But everyone I show this cover to really goes mad and says 'great cover'. There are some sickos about, and obviously I am now one of them as I have just put this on my web site for all to see. Killer dramatic music with very occasional beats. This record is very rare. I bought it off a bloke in America last year. When he shipped it over to me I got stuffed with customs taxes. Happy I was not.


Aaaah. This is all a little more pleasant. I had no idea Lionel Geoffries directed this endless classic. I think they are all posh kids from London who end up leaving town for the country because their dad is a spy, but I might be wrong. Anyway, I've been after this particular version of the LP, the legendary 'purple' coloured one, for some while. I paid way over the odds for it, but trying to find one in good nick for less than a tenner is something I have always found impossible. I paid £12 pounds for this in Ealing which is dead steep. It has this great melody somewhere in it. Like a classic bit of English pastoral thematics that makes me feel all infantile but only very briefly. There are touches of naive jazz on here too. A good friend of mine's mother actually made the tree that falls down the bank that causes red knickers to be waved in the air that stop the train. Tragically this gloriously talented soul has recently died. My friend is distraught. I may well give this beautiful score away to him as a gesture and for the memories. Death is everywhere.


Oh Lord, another death. It was another sad day when the original soundtrack shop shut down in London Town . Yes, 58 Dean Records, later known simply as Rare Discs shut its doors to a less than appreciative public last month. Lucky for me I managed to get their old LP shelving. But I'm gutted they have shut and gone. Before they disappeared they had a big sale. I bought lots of sad old shit. I mean loads of crap for £2 each I didn't really need. This is one of those items, and I have discovered it's brilliant and I really need it. This has one of the most scrumptious melodies I have ever heard, almost painfully beautiful, and do you know, I can't even remember it now, so I'm going to have to play it all again. As the record begins you think it's a Morricone thing, and then it all changes. A very addictive sound, certainly for me anyway. And with artwork by the marvellous Bob Peak it scores heavily on my own personal record-o-meter. Which wasn't working last week.


This is an LP I have been desperate for, for about ten years. I would have willingly traded my mother for a copy. Originally it was James Karminsky who played it to me a decade ago and he still plays it out a lot, and every time he plays it out and I hear it I get very frustrated. No more. I have now it. This is the man, the man of library musak chucking down a load of tracks very quickly for his own label. And here, on this LP, he goes mad. There is nothing to do with Open Air Parades anywhere. No, instead there are long repetitive odd things, beautiful choral spooky things, the whole LP is like a freakshow for his naked musical mind. I have no idea if this last phrase explains the LP any better, but I know what I mean.


This is a soundtrack. Big in obscure hip hop circles I'm told. This really is something else, a truly proggy rocky soundtrack, unusual for me as I can't really handle proggy rock very well. I don't know what to do with myself or where to put my hands. It's a confusing LP as the cover says Osanna, who are the band, and the back says Milano Calibre 9, which is the film, but only in small writing. And this is the Italian issue on Fonit which is hipper than the USA versions. This is sonically a very unpredictable LP. It was recommended to me by Mr Cherrystones. He knows all about its sonic history. The LP starts with noises, gets all classical, then descends into bonkers heavy rock, then gets all stringy rocky and then goes all flutee jazz, and then back to the beginning again, and then someone throws in a few sexy breaks and some odd electronics. Raving mad. It's like the antiques Roadshow meets 1972 Top Of The Pops and an arts review programme plus a bit of the Open University all at the same time. Oh, and Data 70 is used on the sleeve, which can't be bad either. Eagle-eyed self confessed font dork Andrew Symington writes: Yo Trunk! That's NOT Data 70, it's often puzzled me what it actually is. It looks pretty close to this.


There is no doubt in my mind that Morgana looks like a strange and celebate frightening woman thing. Her voice is a little like that too. But I suppose that's why the LP has the title it has. And on this mad little LP she sings a killer version of Tomorrow Never Knows. Really mad. Mad because it's very very s l o w. So slow most people don't recognise it. But boy, does it work.


A short while ago I bought a huge box of show tunes. My girlfriend thought I had turned into a gay man. But these LPs were a rare bunch, unplayed and very cheap. I immediately sold them on to the cats from SUPERTHRILLER, who will no doubt turn them in to really odd new music that everyone loves. In amongst the huge box was a copy of this which I nabbed, issued in the mid 1950s by Brunswick . It's a concept 7LP, all about seven dreams. Here are three of the dream titles: The pink houseboat, the girl on the rock, the nightmare. Each dream oddity is sep a rated by applause and a big school fire bell. I think this Jenkins bloke also did some arranging for Sinatra. He is unusual.


This is a great modern record that doesn't really care. I am not just putting this in here because of what is wri t ten above. It's a good LP, issued last year, and includes a picture of a bee on a wasp. Beck loves it by all accounts.


This was also issued last year, but I have only just got it. At the moment I am not sure if I like it but my ears pricked up the instant I heard it and it's still in the important pile. I'd call it ruralish American indie folk sung by someone with a baby voice (not too dissimilar to Linda Lewis). She also plays the harp, but not in a Dorothy Ashby way. I am unsure at the moment whether her voice will start to grate over time, but that is something for once I am not worried about. I fell asleep with it on the other night and woke up to that horrid cccchhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr sound.


An ickle ten inch library record, and what a bonkers cover. France , 1967, life was obviously all about racing cars, leopard skin and badly drawn girls with fuzzy hair. All with a bit of jazz thrown in. But what I really like about this is the track 'Folk Guitars' which is not folk at all, but something else completely different instead.


I bought this from a jazz site and the man selling thought, or had decided there was not enough jazz on it. I think it's obvious that it's not a jazz LP because it's a soundtrack. But Gaslini is a jazz fiend, and one of the most intriguing pianists out there. I love him. He's great and very unpredictable. I have weird sex things he's done, odd westerns and now this, a kind of mixture of the two. It's not in the best condition but sometimes that doesn't really matter with records. In fact sometimes I couldn't give a monkeys. QUINCICASM: This is one of those cool concept LPs from the early 1970s, hence the question is it a band with no name, or an album name with no band name. Well I don't know but there is one track on here called Trent Park Song with no singing in it. It's a slowish modal jazz number. This track is superb, and just hangs on to the sound of alright and just manages to avoid being too avant garde and all a bit toss. The rest of the album is a bit toss though. There is a picture of the players on the back. They are as hairy as you'd expect. This album was made in Badminton of all places.


I have always wanted an LP on the Omicron label. This maybe something to do with the fact that it's a label owned by Pierro Umiliani. Then again I am not sure. The cover art on these LPs is amazing and the sounds, more often than not are bonkers. This is bonkers. Made in probably about an hour this is exceptional electronic tinkering. This is the kind of odd LP that will be featuring in the all new book on Library Records.


I bought this in Guildford , in Surrey , in a classic shop called Bens Records. He's great Ben, I must have know the guy for 20 years, and he still looks the same age. The other great thing about Ben is that he buys thousands of LPs, all for practically nothing, and then sells everything for either £1 or £2. You have to spend a good few hours getting grubby, hands and knees, that kind of thing, but you normally come out with something super. Last time I went in I had no idea I was going to come out with this. He had about ten copies of it, all mint (no surprises there). Martin Green who was with me at the time sneered in a "what the hell do you want that for" way. I bought it, and later when I got home, slightly pissed, I played it. It was only then I realised that even though I had seen the film years and years ago, I knew all the words. And then my girlfriend got all soppy about it and she knew all the words too and we ended up dancing around the front room. Anyone, like Frank Loesser, who can write such instantly hooky and memorable numbers needs to be praised often. Yes, I am sad, I am fully aware of the fact and I'm also prepared to wallow in my very own childlike sadness from time to time.


This LP has a stunning sleeve, a close up of an old London bus engine cover. It is also a ridiculous LP. One track is 16 minutes long, and is just big drums, treated organ and bass. Bonkers. Quite druggy sounding too, all sounding like it's recorded in someone's old damp bedroom. Perfect for your latest smack party.


G'day, and welcome to yet another Sven Libaek LP. There seems to be bloody loads of 'em. Originally I was under the impression there were just a few, you know, the library stuff and a couple fairly easy to find scores, like 'Boney' and the standard Aussie jazz bits. And I've proved myself wrong a good few times now and this is the latest soundtrack I have found, and what a cutie. It's from 1966, and here Sven pushes the boat out in terms of time signatures. It's the usual jazzy vibey Libaek sound, with a fair amount of innocence and spookyness and you can just imaging cuddling a cutie Koala or a big poisonous snake when you listen hard enough.


I have waiting many many years to get my grubbies on one of these little babies. Looking back, it seems like I've had a lucky streak as most of the LPs on this most recent list I've been waiting yonks for. Well LPs are a bit like buses I suppose, you can't find what you want and then all of a sudden three come at once. But you have to keep looking and waiting of course. I was speaking to a chum is Glasgow called Andrew recently. He's a fan of funny British jazz. He was looking for that Cosmic Eye LP, and three came up in a week. As a result, he got himself a bargain. Such is buses. Right, this is the original pressing of the legendary holy grail that is Geminiani's 'Modern Pop Percussions' LP. Issued on MPI, with a glorious collage cover, this is a total masterpiece. Vincent's father was a sculptor, his mother a musician, he became a musician who sculpted his own percussive instruments. This LP touches the avant garde briefly, it has serious pop sensibilities and fuses the classical subtleties of Stravisky with incredible jazz. And what a journey. And what a totally pompous description I have just written.


This is one of those cool concept LPs from the early 1970s, hence the question is it a band with no name, or an album name with no band name. Well I don't know but there is one track on here called Trent Park Song with no singing in it. It's a slowish modal jazz number. This track is superb, and just hangs on to the sound of alright and just manages to avoid being too avant garde and all a bit toss. The rest of the album is a bit toss though. There is a picture of the players on the back. They are as hairy as you'd expect. This album was made in Badminton of all places.


You can't beat ladies in the studio. And all this weird electronic concrete madness was used for that gang of slightly more evolved super kids back in the dark seventies. This is really great music. SO greta (that typo stays - ed) in fact it will be a Trunk Release. Tomorrow. You lucky people. Tomorrow People Page here.