映画 未知の 1974!!
You always were a cunning linguist so brush up on your Bollywood and get ready to meet Gun Master G 9. He’s the deadliest and the hottest and on the sleeve that’s a tsunami, NOT a massive enema.
Delirious battering rams for the senses, the best of the Shaw Brothers kung fu epics were a huge influence on the art of Pierre&Gilles. It’s all there in the likes of King Boxer/The Five Fingers of Death (Tian Xia Di Yi Quan, 1972), The New One-Armed Swordsman and The Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan – check the glittering surfaces, the candyfloss colors, the decorous compositions and the golden skin tones of the good guys.
Musically, the themes were a mad mix of Morricone-y melodies, burning hot beats and crazy arrangements. Disco was one leap away.
Bloggers list their current or eternal faves. It’s all here, from cheap one euro finds to collectable obscurities to tracks mirroring their hard-to-explain personal obsessions.
Rinaldo’s Band – Campasino (instrumental)
Desert Express – Disco Piper
Los Bomberos – Ninas
Banzai & Les Glodettes – Viva America / Rythm America
Prince Albert Orchestra – Try To Satisfy Me (12”)
John Boorman, the director of Point Blank, Zardoz and Deliverance, goes soft with a heavily didactic film about a father seeking his son in the Amazon jungle. Instead of encounters with gutmunching cannibals the film is concerned with the earth’s ecological balance, preserving the life of the rain forest and yes, the process of growing up to be a man.
The music works, though.
From heroic high spirits to deep pathos the Joseph Koo theme from The Way of the Dragon / Meng Long Quo Jiang holds in perfect balance everything we love most about soundtracks. This definitive Spanish take from 1975 is set to melt your ears, then mold and rebuild them, giving you a new appreciation for life.
Two in-my-opinion totally irresistible 1974 DDR tunes aus dem DEFA-film Nicht Schummeln, Liebling! / No Cheating, Darling! It’s a football comedy with highly spirited dance scenes performed by tanned girls in miniskirts and white knee-length vinyl boots and boys who are shirtless or wear funky garage workwear stained with motor oil. Super Atmo, super Laune, super Party, supergeil, Super Urlaub, super Wetter, super Sommer, supergeil!
Emilienne was based on an already existing novel but no doubt rushed into production in 1974 to cash in on the enormous success of Just Jaeckin’s Emmanuelle. The less lavishly budgeted Guy Casarel film focuses on a concerned-looking forty-something housewife with bourgeous values, her moustachioed sleazebag of a husband and a bisexual hippy chick ready to rock their boat.
The first half of the film proceeds somewhat sluggishly until the director throws in his pièce de resistance, obviously calculated to top the big shocker sequence in Emmanuelle in which a hooker smokes a cigarette with her vagina. Here, Emilienne the housewife, having been introduced to the delights of Sapphic amour, visists a luxurious bordello for lesbians. In a large room a line of completely naked girls are inspected and fingered by chic old dykes in formal outfits in a harshly lit Helmut Newton-style tableau, while Emilienne looks on. Then, one of the prostitutes is ordered to lay down, and a huge Alsatian dog is called by it’s name. What follows is indeed a bit of a jawdropper.
Later on, Emilienne and the husband are stranded on a rainy coast, seeking refuge in the house of an old hag who naturally turns out to be another dyke. Only she has a harem made of blond, decidedly non-model-like women who stare ahead like The Children of The Damned grown up to be rampant lesbians.
In the picture, the Finnish poster for the film.
Face it. You’re no saint so indulge to the max in your vices at least once a year. In the evening of 16th of January A.D. 2015, give in to gluttony, lust and greed and celebrate with us all that is excessive, over-the-top and brilliant in the music we love, for hours and hours. Italo, funk, disco and beyond. Rare tracks and anthems. It’ll all be there to really wallow in, from exotic, sophisticated hothouse flowers to indescribable, sick sonic funghi from hell. From deep powerful vocals by mighty Divas to the flimsiest sighs from young girls who look like they’re sixteen but act like they’re twenty-one. No holds barred. Top tunes from a top lineup. The event will be re-broadcast on the 17th in case it’ll all become too much for you – though of course too much of a good thing is the best thing ever.
It’s all in the 1971 film Sex of the Devil, everything fans of quality European cinema would possibly want with the exception of the presence of Edwige Fenech. Opulent villas, heavily made-up women in revealing costumes dancing wildly to bongo-driven discothéque music by Stelvio Cipriani (borrowing a bit from In A Gadda Da Vida), gentlemen in flapping shirt collars and tight polyester slacks reclining on sofas, lesbians harbouring pathological mistrust of men, prudish servants with secrets and repressed longings of their own, rampant nudity and images of violent death. Like in all grade A giallos and morbid sex dramas, everybody spends half of the running time casting long meaningful looks at each other from behind glasses of whisky, though in Sex of The Devil J&B was puzzlingly enough not available as a sponsor.
Antonio Carlos Jobim, one of the most noted Brazilian musicans, the composer of “The Girl from Ipanema”, in icon of cool, did he really do something like this? A few snatches of the stuff was heard in a muted form in the 1970 film The Adventureres but the track itself was never included in the offical, internationally realesed soundtrack. Here it is now, in it’s fully audible, uncensored glory!
This vaguely Village People-ish tune is off a compliation album filled with theme music and short sound snippets from 70s Japanese superhero tv shows like Kamen Rider. There are no words in English on the sleeve.
More themes from the legendary Lone Wolf & Cub series of films from the early seventies about Ogami Itto, an wandering assassin and his extremely fashionably dressed little son, Daigoro. White Heaven and Hell begins like a Love Unlimited tune, then breaks into a seriously funky club number. Baby Cart in the Land of Demons is a jazzy dancefloor track.