Back catalogue: Soundtracks

Review: Painter, musician, actor, director and producer. John Lurie has done a lot in his time, whether that's appearing in 19 movies, composing for 20 TV shows and films - including some of those he was the star of - or producing primitivist art work. Here, we get to engage with two of those back catalogues, even if only because these are scores to a pair of his most iconic flicks. Always cool and stripped, Lurie's stuff is the kind of experimental-leaning jazz that works so well when setting the scene. And this applies off screen, IRL too: pressing play here will only serve to create a mood wherever you are, no matter what you're doing. One of shadowy streets, yellow hued spots, smoky barrooms and dark backrooms, a sense of after hours exploration.

Review: To understand Didn't You Hear the soundtrack it's important to get a bit of the back story behind this obscure and genuine rarity. Didn't You Hear the movie was a little-known and unarguably strange 1983 cinema release that barely made it to many screens, but was notable for two reasons - it's one of the earliest acting credits given to Gary Busey, and it features one of the first all-electronic scores, by non-other than Canadian composer and synth pioneer, Mort Garson.

The work still sounds impressive. For the most part it clearly feels like a film score, but some tracks more than stand up on their own grounds. The subdued chaos of 'Bamboo City' could be used by techno and electro DJs today, 'Virgil's Theme' is a reflective slice of melodic ambience, while 'Death Talk & Jeep Approach' is a sparse, minimalistic electronic-classical masterpiece.

Review: As the name suggests, this album is a full-on dub and reggae re-rendering of soundtrack themes from nearly every Studio Ghibli film - from 'My Neighbour Totoro', to 'Nausicaa', to 'Princess Mononoke' - courtesy of a mysterious troupe known only as GBL Sound System. Production comes courtesy of Dubforce's Ippei Tatsuyama and features vocals from artist Kyoko Abe, making for ear-piquing foray into Japanese dub reworks.

Review: It's pretty hard these days to keep up with all the different new Spider-Man movies, but you should try because somehow they all seem to be pretty good despite it being such a well-worn character. The music, too, always manages to reach new levels as did this, the original soundtrack for the 2017 version, Spider-Man: Homecoming, by Michael Giacchino. It is full of dramatic and wide-screen orchestration, sweeping strings and rousing musical adventure but also the more quiet moments of reflection and tenderness. This version comes with a poster in a deluxe sleeve on blue vinyl.

Review: Star Trek has been on a tumultuous ride over the years. To paraphrase Wayne Campbell, of Wayne's World fame, in many ways The Next Generation was superior to the original series, but will always struggle to match the recognition of its source material. More recent shows in the franchise looked to expand the viewer base, following in the wake of the saga's modern films, but in doing so kind of lost the friendly, campish mild peril we love this universe for. Star Trek: Into Darkness was a case in point - it's not fun, it's not light, it's not particularly thoughtful. As a movie, it lives up to the promise of darkness. In terms of how this translates onto the score, expect seriously moody and atmospheric big screen compositions, rather than the jaunty soundtracks that once defined this institution.

Review: Michael Giacchino, a decorated Academy Award-r winning composer, delivers a commanding yet tender score for J.A. Bayona's moving film The Society of the Snow. It recounts the harrowing true tale of the 1972 Uruguayan flight that crashed in the remote Andes, and the ensuing battle for survival. Amid despair, the film champions hope which is a sentiment echoed in Giacchino's emotionally charged score. Balancing poignancy with optimism, the music navigates a delicate path that amplifies the film's power. Bayona and Giacchino's collaboration yields a cinematic masterpiece that will surely resonate as one of the year's most compelling narratives.

Review: The 2002 film The Hours starred hefty Hollywood talents Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep and Julianne Moore, and the original score was composed by no lesser titan of his industry than Philip Glass. It is a masterful work from the legendary minimal composer and is here presented across four sides of vinyl by the Nonesuch label. It has plenty of thick, lush strings and lots of tonal suspension with cool piano parts, plenty of heavily pregnant silences and cascading scales that all add plenty to the film itself as well as being a great standalone listen.

Review: Talk about a cultural Tardis, Doctor Who ranks among the most longstanding love affairs British TV viewers have ever had with a work of science fiction, ranking up there with global phenomena such as Star Trek in terms of legions of faithful fans and decade-spanning sagas. After a small blip of obscurity in the mid-late-1990s and immediate post-millennium years, the show rebooted and reconfigured for the 21st Century in 2005, and hasn't left the common conscience since.

The score is certainly something to do with that resonance. As far as theme tunes go, Doctor Who's may not still be the most forward thinking (as it was back in 1963), but it's easily up there in the premier league of iconic. On this live rendition of music from the latter-day Series 1 & 2 that theme remains as impactful, while a talented entourage of players and conductors also help us remember just how consistent the music is overall.

Review: Barry Gray's original tapes were the sound source for this newly mastered Captain Scarlet soundtrack. It followed on from the cult classic TV series Thunderbirds and its theme tune was a big 7" on Pye label back in 1967. Now a whole bunch of the music from the show has been collected together across two limited edition, translucent red slabs of vinyl that will be hugely desirable for those who love to collect the more unusual records out there. The eerie electronics, suspenseful passages of ambient and curious library sounds are interspersed with plenty of spoken word snippets which make this a surprisingly involving listen.

Review: Joe 90 is a stone cold classic of the genre for many animation fans of a certain age. The soundtrack is part of what made it so special and is also one of the finest works amongst very many from composer Barry Gray. It is full of jazzy orchestrations and swopping strings, high speed instrumental funk chases and dramatic horns. There is light and dark, tension and release along the way that makes it as thrilling to listen to as the show was to watch. Here the complete soundtrack gets served up on limited gatefold 'jet car green' vinyl.

Review: Jonny Greenwood is of course best known for his work with Radiohead, but like all members of that particular band he has side projects. The latest was soaring the music for the film The Power of the Dog. The result is a dark, absorbing and disturbing listen to accompany Jane Campion's Western with Benedict Cumberbatch in the lead as a difficult cowboy in early 20th-century Montana. It is Greenwood's third movie soundtrack this year alone with Pablo Larrain's "Spencer" about Princess Diana already out and next up Paul Thomas Anderson's "Licorice Pizza" arrives before the end of the month.

Review: It has been five long decades since the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving episode first hit US TV screens. Originally aired in 1973, the show proved beyond any doubt that Peanuts was the coolest and most sophisticated cartoon of the day, and that's in no small part down to the original scores, which were the responsibility of Vince Guaraldi, and all of which are worth picking up if you see copies on sale.

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving has never been available on record before, having only recently been rediscovered in the vaults and then primed for this autumn 2023 debut. Remixed and remastered to elevate some of the details that had been lost in the old recordings, tracks run between lounge jazz and soul funk, with 'Little Birdie' arguably the pick of the lot (and not just because it stands out with those iconic vocals).

Review: Composers, writers, multi-instrumentalists, TV and movie producers. In the grand schemes of lives you which you'd led, Guido and Maurizio De Angelis are certainly up there. The multifarious Italian creatives, sometimes known as Oliver Onions, epitomise the risk taking and daring that dominated culture during their most prominent years, the late-1970s and early-1980s, seemingly wanting to try everything, exceed in as much as possible, and constantly experiment. The score to Squadra Antifurto, or Hit Squad in English, is a case in point. At times, it feels like we're gazing adoringly at the Beautiful Country itself, accordions and organs ringing out, often in jaunty, uptempo forms, or more sombre, or at last reflective tunes. At other times, it's a staccato cacophony of drama, high tempo sonic collages that do their best to drive us to the next scene. You won't forget it in a hurry.