Guitarist/Producer Michael Brook has had a pretty good run of it. He first entered the Eno/Hassel continuum by engineering Hassel’s seminal 1977 work Vernal Equinox. After playing guitar with Martha and The Muffins, he played bass on one of the best records of the late 20th Century: Hassel and Eno’s 1980 Fourth World, Vol. 1: Possible Musics. He went on to play guitar and electronics on many records, produced several notable world music fusion projects (Night Song with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan being the best) and now does a fair amount of film scoring.

This track is the closer from Brook’s best solo album, the 1992 Cobalt Blue, which also has a splendid live companion album, Live at the Aquarium: London Zoo 21 May 1992. The two were reissued by 4AD in 1999 as a double CD set. Brook’s solo music inhabits an interesting spot in the spectrum of instrumental music in terms of Eno’s Ignorable/Interesting index; it’s contemplative but not wallpapery, often energetic but not agressive, and deeply technological while remaining very human.

Although all the various Cobalt Blue versions seem to be officially out of print, you can still find a copy of the double CD at places like… Wal Mart???? There’s a pretty good unofficial Michael Brook page here.

You can’t turn on the radio right now without hearing the snowman and the illegal alien from New Jersey trifling on the feather-light but infectious original version of this track. But if you’re going to have it stuck in your head, might as well have *this* version up in there. The hilariously over-the-top gunfire sounds take the central concept to its logical conclusion, and Vybz Kartel spits with the confidence of an M16. There are also fine contributions from Sizzla & Shabba Ranks.

Kartel might just be 2005’s Hardest Working Man In Show Business, and his new CD J.M.T. is about to drop any day. When it does you’ll find it here. More about Kartel at his label Greensleeves here. To hear more from Akon or Young Jeezy, just go outside and walk around.

Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel’s 1995 film Middle of The Moment is a poetic treatise on nomadism, intercutting documentary footage of a tribe of Tuareg nomads in North Africa and a European art-circus group. The film is a mesmerizing journey with a completely unique sense of pacing… protracted… crystal-clear… with a laser beam focus on tiny illuminating details. Fred frith, who was the subject of Humbert and Penzel’s 1990 documentary Step Across The Border, wrote the excellent score for the film.

In creating the soundtrack CD, Frith took the entire audio track of the film as his raw material, and created a unique sound and music montage piece which weaves together his music with the evocative sound landscapes of the film. This track has very little of Frith’s “music” - some drones drift by occasionally - but rather creates a captivating mood through layers of “musical” found sound, including roosters, wind, and Tuareg voices.

The CD of Middle of The Moment is available here. The DVD is here. Fred Frith has a site here.

Ennio Morricone must be not just one of the most prolific composers of the modern age, but one of the most prolific artists, period. Maestro has written over 500 film scores and released hundreds of CDs. Each year dozens of new Morricone compilations hit the shelves, most of them lazily curated based more on licensing agreements than any guiding aesthetic principle. But now… here is something of a different order: On November 29th Ipecac will release Crime And Dissonance, a stunning double-disc set compiled by Morricone-freak Alan Bishop. The collection focusses on Morricone’s out/avant-garde/experimental work, and some of it is pretty out… heartbeats, metal screeches, orgasmic breathing, metal screeches, and impossible time signatures abound. But it’s not all screechy free jazz, either… there are plenty of quiet, moody, textural sets. The sequencing is outstanding, sound quality is superb, and the liner notes are by John Zorn.

It’s hard to pick a single track to excerpt here, but I’m going with 1970, from the Dario Argento horror movie Il Gatto A Nove Code (The Cat of Nine Tails), which starred Karl Malden as a blind man searching for a killer.

This is in no way a definitive Morricone collection ~ it’s not trying to be, and as Alan Bishop says “a definitive collection of his work would have to be at least 50 hours of material” ~ but it is a truly magnificent collection of some of the composer’s lesser known and more fascinating work. Absolutely essential listening.

More detailed info about the release at the label here, and a very interesting interview with curator Alan Bishop here. You can buy Crime And Dissonance here.

The 1982 underground sci-fi punk classic B-movie Liquid Sky has an ultra-retro synthesizer score by Brenda Hutchinson and Clive Smith. The Alien’s Theme here is actually an adaptation of Trionfo Di Afrodite by our old favorite Carl Orff, rendered with glorious 8-bit Fairlight choir samples and FM metal hits.

Although it now sounds more like 1982 than the future, at the time the score perfectly matched the East Village grunginess and weird futuristic punk vibe of the film. In an era when electronic scores were going for cleanliness and sheen, the Liquid Sky score was gritty and dark, and was much admired by those of us interested in such things. Long out of print and never released on CD, we’re dragging this up from the dark recesses of the Urmson Vinyl Crate.

You can buy the DVD of Lquid Sky here. Brenda Hutchinson has a site here. Clive Smith has a site here.

The late 20th century is littered with examples of brave souls who came together for a while, made some great music, and then returned to the margins like rusting hulks on the side of the M4 — or perhaps they ended up working at Tesco’s, dreaming of the days when they made glorious noise and we all listened. Pigbag might fall into this category, although strictly speaking some of their members did go on to carve a slightly larger niche in musical history. Anybody out there know where bassist Simon Underwood ended up?

From 1980 to 1983 Pigbag did their thing, and this track was their highest moment of visibility, actually reaching the top 5 of the UK charts when it was released for a second time in 1983. But never mind all that, just turn up your little computer speakers out there until your sub-woofer rattles the copy holder, and give this a listen.

I got this from the 7″ vinyl in Mark Harrington’s pile. Unfortunately there is very little Pigabg to link to, notwithstanding the valiant work at fansite pigbag.com.

I was the Sound Designer on Julie Taymor’s film Frida, which in addition to a lovely (Oscar-winning) score by gentleman and scholar Elliot Goldenthal, includes a boat-load of fantastic traditional Mexican music. This beautiful Pirekua song from Trio Los Chapas appeared in the Dio De Los Muertos graveyard scene, and it has captivated me since I first heard it. It will most likely captivate you too, especially as today is again Dio De Los Muertos. Pirekuas are the traditional songs of the Purepecha Indians of central Mexico.

The soundtrack CD for Frida includes some of the best Mexican music used in the film, but not this track. You can find it on a compilation from the excellent Mexican Corason label here, or to order in the states try here. The soundtrack to Frida is here, and the DVD is here. More info about Dio De Los Muertos can be found here.