Listen to ‘Here and Now 1’ by Lesiman (Vedette, VSM 38559, Italy, 1973).

Ok, yes, I’m showing off a bit here, but after a long quest I have finally acquired the first volume of Paolo Renosto’s breathtaking two part library classic that he recorded for Vedette records under the pseudonym Lesiman, and I’m chuffed to bits. 

Press ‘play’ and hear for yourself how Renosto creates an edgy, sinister soundscape of hypnotic grooves, shot through with deep, intense repetitive melodic patterns played on pianos, organs, harpsichords and no doubt a few other keyboard instruments that I’ve failed to notice.

I don’t claim by any means to have an exhaustive collection, or knowledge of library music, but along with this record’s companion, ‘Here and Now 2’ (see August 2010), it sounds unique.

Listen to ‘Ciao Italia’ by Bruno Nicolai (Edi-Pan, Italy, 1976).

Everyone likes a bit of Italian library music from time to time, and I’m no exception. Trouble is, it’s often silly money, and then you need to pay the Italian postman to boot. Happily, this particular record was offered to the entire world on ebay but nobody wanted it except me, so it cost a fiver (and I only had to pay that lovely English postie). At such a low price I was expecting a load of old rubbish, but as you will hear in the sound clip, it’s a satisfying hotch-potch of spikey jazz, cheap sounding electronic drum patterns, funky riffs that suddenly wander off down ‘jaunty street’, fuzzy guitar pop/rock instrumentals and sunny bossa. Not to mention the wonderful spoken word interludes that serve as postcards home throughout the record. There is also a smooth vocal number sung by Fred Bongusto. (I wish ‘Bongusto’ was my surname).

‘Ciao Italia’ was released on Bruno Nicolai’s own library label, Edi-Pan, but it appears to be an original soundtrack to a film of the same name that I know nothing about.

Ciao, for now.

Listen to ‘The Cop Show Themes’ LP by Henry Mancini, (RCA, UK, 1976).

There’s not a lot to say about this extremely pleasing record. It’s a powerful collection of well known television police drama theme tunes, two by Mancini himself. It was released the same year as Johnny Gregory’s much loved ‘The Detectives’ album (on Philips) and there is considerable overlap in the material. But while Gregory’s arrangements are good, Mancini makes the Englishman sound puny by comparison. (By the way, did you know that Johnny Gregory is Chaquito in disguise?).

Henry Mancini’s big band orchestrations, featuring heavy drum breaks, wah-wah, bonkers electric bass lines, harpsichords and even a theremin ensure that the album moves at breakneck speed, which is a bit of a shame as it only lasts 25 minutes. Never mind, quality vs. quantity, and all that.

So, if Steve McGarrett, Kojak and Jim Rockford are your kind of guys (or if you think they’re tossers but still like the tunes), pick this album up, in it’s wonderfully cheap looking washing powder pop art sleeve, for nine themes that (mostly) out-do the originals.