THE CUFF LINKS
Tracy
Poker CD
www.cherryred.co.uk
LALO SCHIFRIN
Enter The Dragon
Mannix
ROSEBUD
Discoballs: A Tribute To Pink Floyd
Collector’s Choice Music CDs
www.ccmusic.com
There’s plenty of great groovy stuff around at the moment, and these four are either wonderful or wonky enough to satisfy the most demanding hipster.
Sitting on that comfy sofa between the hammock of sunshine pop and the leopard-print couch of bachelor pad music is The Cuff Links, an invented group headed by the silky vocals of Ron Dante. Tracy is a reissue of their 1969 LP, rounded out with bonus tracks. There’s plenty to enjoy in this effortlessly lovely CD, all perfectly produced by the backroom boys de jour Paul Vance and Lee Pockriss. Particularly of note is ‘I Remember’, whose heart wrenching lyrics of unhappy nostalgia are effectively set against the unblemished gorgeousness of the arrangement. ‘Run Sally Run’ is also a standout, a girl group-esque riot with its handclaps and turbulent pace.
Next up are two very welcome reissues by Lalo Schifrin, a soundtrack maverick who is able to shift between funk-driven blinders and moody scene setters with the smack of a clapperboard. ’73’s Enter The Dragon has a corking main theme located somewhere between Shaft and James Bond, with a side order of those preposterously brilliant kung-fu noises. Schifrin’s jazzier treatments elsewhere in the score are effectively and uncomfortably taut, occasionally boiling over into brick-splitting body blows, like in the climactic ‘The Big Battle’.
Mannix, Schifrin’s ’68 LP to accompany the japes of a TV detective, is more placid, but still deliciously layered. ‘The Shadow’ is the highlight, and a foretaste of Schifrin’s pulsating work on the Bullitt soundtrack, and the TV theme itself is a perfect example of that distinctive late ’60s crime groove. Any fan of whip-smart jazz or hip soundtracks will revel in these reissues of two of Schifrin’s most influential scores.
One of the lesser-documented phenomena of the ’70s is the joyously inappropriate disco cover version. Studio concoction Rosebud gives us a whole album of ‘em on ’77’s Discoballs. From a disco connoisseur’s perspective it’s accomplished stuff, if a bit safe – it clearly dates from the period when disco was losing its earlier, edgier inventive spirit. From a Pink Floyd fan viewpoint, Discoballs may elicit a profound suspicion, but it’s far more of a playful tribute than a desecration. However, it is certainly heavy on the Europop synths and light on any kind of reverence for the songs.
Perhaps surprisingly, Discoballs reveals that Floyd and the glitter ball are not such polar opposites after all. ‘Interstellar Overdrive’ is turned from psych freakout to electro bliss, and is the best makeover on the album. John Waters’ snide compositions also work particularly well, with both ‘Have A Cigar’ and ‘Money’ twisting effectively from rock critiques of greed to an irony-once-removed celebration of success. The only excruciating misfire is the weak electrified funk of ‘Arnold Layne’. The naked lady on the cover deserves a mention too – perhaps Rosebud were taking a swipe at the contemporary packaging of rock albums, or (probably more likely) simply reflecting the tedious sexism of the times.
The packaging for all of these is textually detailed, but only Tracy feels like it’s had real love and effort invested in it, and it’s also the only one with bonus tracks.
Jeanette Leech
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