Of course we knew this day would come, but still.

So, let’s get straight to the point here – Morricone IS film music, so far as I’m concerned. Even if he didn’t contribute to it all directly, a vast swathe of the cinema I love would sound very different without his influence.

Years before I actually saw any of the Leone films, hearing Morricone’s themes from them pop up on the radio (which they sometimes did in those days) was an event. My Dad (who, like many dads, had a yen for all things cowboy-related) would turn up the volume, and for a few minutes we’d soak it in. The drama, the atmosphere, the wild sounds were just completely intoxicating. They didn’t need any context – as always, Morricone’s music creates its own context. That was almost certainly the first time I stopped to think about music in films, about a kind of musical vocabulary which extended beyond lyrics and pop songs, and about the different ways in which sounds and images can combine to create emotion and excitement. Thirty years later, I’m still thinking about those things.

The medium by which I enjoy the Leone scores has moved over the years from radio, to parental vinyl, to CD, and back to my own vinyl, and during my adult life I’ve of course hovered up all the other Morricone I can find within my price range (which of course still only represents the tiniest fraction of the monolithic range of his total achievement).

From what little I know of Morricone’s beliefs and personality, I think it’s probably safe to say that he would wish to be remembered to the world for his work rather than his biography, so instead of rabbiting on further, I’ll share a swiftly cobbled together mix of fifteen (which could easily be thirty, or one hundred) personal favourite smash hits from his vast catalogue, assembled in no particular order. I’ll keep commentary to a minimum, because otherwise my responses to most of these tracks would just consist of variations on a theme of holy fucking shit.

Though the magic which Nicolai, Dell’Orso, Alessandroni and so many others brought to his recordings cannot be overlooked, Morricone remains a giant – one of the greatest composers and musicians of the 20th century, no questions asked.

For ease of ad-free listening, I’ve compiled these fifteen cuts into a mix on Mixcloud (embed below), but will also go through them one-by-one via Youtube links for those who wish to pick and choose.




1. ‘Titoli’ from ‘A Fistful of Dollars’ (1964)

Here’s where it all began.



2. ‘Il Grande Silenzio (Restless)’ from ‘Il Grande Silenzio’ (1968)



3. “Valmont’s Go-Go Pad” from ‘Danger! Diabolik’ (1968)



4. ‘Svolta Definitiva’ from ‘Violent City’ (1970)



5. ‘La Lucertola’ from ‘A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin’ (1971)



6. ‘Guerra E Pace, Pollo E Brace’ from ‘Grazie Zia’ / ‘Come Play With Me’ (1968)



7. ‘Giorno Di Notte’ from ‘A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin’ (1971)



8. ‘Magic and Ecstasy’ from ‘Exorcist II: The Heretic’ (1977)



9. Main theme from ‘The Thing’ (1982)



10. ‘Canzone Lontana’ from ‘Il Serpente’ (1973)



11. ‘Fraseggio Senza Struttura’ from ‘The Bird with the Crystal Plumage’ (1970)



12. ‘Ballabile No. 2’ from ‘La Cosa Buffa’ (1972)



13. ‘Titoli’ from ‘A Sky Full of Stars for a Roof’ (1968)



14. ‘Astratto 3’ from ‘Veruschka’ (1971)



 
15. ‘Once Upon a Time in the West’ from ‘Once Upon a Time in the West’ (1968)

This theme makes me involuntarily break down in tears each time I hear it. Really, every time, like clockwork. Which has proved quite embarrassing whenever I’ve watched the film in company.

My reaction has nothing to do with any personal/biographical connections, or anything in the film itself (incredible though it is). The sound of the music is just completely overwhelming.

It is simply one of the greatest pieces of music ever recorded, and any classical buffs who want to fight about that are welcome to. Everything that is worth feeling within the human experience, I can hear in this.

R.I.P. Il Maestro.

Labels: bad news, deathblog, Ennio Morricone, Italy, mixcloud, soundtracks

Picking up this reissued Italian library disc as an entirely blind buy (how could I not?), I must admit I had my fingers crossed for some H. Tical/‘Distortions Pop’ type heavy rock freakouts, or some foot-tapping, Bruno Nicolai-esque weirdo-giallo jams – but for better or worse, it turns out maestro Iacoucci was going more a rather more literal and primal interpretation of the term “psychedelic”.

As such, proceedings opens with some weird tone generator stuff that sounds like a pair of Clangers attempting to sing opera, before subsequent pieces bring in harpsichord, piano, scittering free drumming and stridently atonal bass for some studio-warped “jazz on the moon” type shenanigans that might have escaped from the more fragrant end of Sun Ra’s planet of sound. Climbing-the-mountains-of-Mars reverbed kettle drum crescendos are up next, then bleeping sci-fi movie sonar noises, before the flip-side opens with something that briefly sounds like one of those atonal nightmare dirges that Morricone used to bust out for gialli soundtracks… and then it’s back to Moon Base Alpha again for laughing gas cocktails in the jazz capsule.

Basically then: if you’ve ever felt the urge to create a parody of an aggressively experimental Italian library music album from the early 1970s (a pretty niche audience for those laffs, I’m guessing), give up immediately - ‘Simbolismo Psichedelico’ already covers that ground so perfectly as to render your efforts surplus to requirements.

To be honest, only a maniac would be likely to deem this LP ‘essential’, and with so much of this kind of way-out weirdness popping up in the reissue racks these days, I’m not sure that ‘Simbolismo Psichedelico’ will claim much space in many listeners’ lives. Although there are moments here that arguably break through to the increasingly busy plateau of “long lost avant garde genius”, the more persistent feeling is that of “a couple of blokes farting about in the studio for the few days after the boss demanded ‘something spacey and psychedelic’”. But, well, I dunno - I like it nonetheless. It’s quite the mood-setter, that’s for sure – especially if the mood you tend to favour is one in which everyone else leaves the building, leaving you to watch a Czech sci-fi movie in peace. Score.

You can listen and download directly from Intervallo’s bandcamp, or check Discogs for the vinyl.

Labels: best of 2016, comps & reissues, Gerardo Iacoucci, Italy, library music

Things of Interest # 4:
Ice & The Iced.

Ice & The Iced came from Podenone, Italy, late '70s. Maybe they were the first punk rockers in town, maybe not. It makes a better story if we assume they were though.

Ice has HAD ENOUGH. His dad treats him like a criminal, and wants to see him working all day. His teachers are fat, and sexually repressive, and don't care about the life he's bringin' on.

So what's a boy to do? Tell the world all about it in one of the best fuckin' songs ever, that's what.

Seriously, I can't express how wonderful this is. To anybody who ever made any "this track really defined what punk was all about blah blah" type claim re: some storied London/New York band; Ice & The Iced will blow you to smithereens.

As Joe Stumble of Last Days of Man On Earth where I first heard this last week puts it: "You think you could write a better song than We’ve Had Enough? You can’t. Kids all over the world are learning this song right now. Somebody needs to send me the tabs. It’s gonna be the next generation’s “Satisfaction”. Get on the train now or you are gonna miss it."

Labels: Ice And The Iced, Italy, punk rock, things of interest