Philip Glass at his most minimal, repetitive, and inexplicably, magically, affecting. Apparently, Michael Nyman wrote a score for this, too, and was sore when Glass won that particular clash of the titans. Which, you have to concede, has a touch more aesthetic loftiness about it than "Ugly Noel tells someone to fuck off". It's lovely, though if we're candid, not as lovely as we were hoping. Many reviews of the film decried the music as over-insistent, which is akin to describing George Bush as a genius.
If you can remember the '90s, you have mediocre taste in music. Subtitled "The Best Of Britpop", this double CD ties in with the John Dower documentary about that media-stoked mirage, Cool Britannia. As Blair morphs into Thatcher and everyone wonders what they saw in the Gallaghers, it's not a fruitful time to hear this listless stodge. The track listing prompts an inner sigh—Cast, Shed Seven, the supremely flaccid Embrace. No wonder it was piss-easy for The Strokes to clean up with three Blondie riffs.
Not a genre Uncut features heavily, but the previous volume was one of the biggest-selling soundtrack-related CDs of recent years. It's an excuse to bung together top hits from everything from Grease to Charlie's Angels, but the real reason it's here is because by a fluke it includes, among 40 tracks, a run of about 10 which would make my Desert Island Discs—or 31 Songs, as we're now calling the concept.
Shoehorned onto this page because there's now a parallel DVD, which means this compilation of Volumes 1 and 2 (Cherry Red 1982-84) counts as a soundtrack, okay? The label's reissue of its golden age revels in the courage to be slightly twee. It's the sound of Englishness, only without the mindless violence. Art-rockers like Monochrome Set and Fantastic Something stand up well, having first politely checked that nobody minds if they do. Morgan Fisher's version of "Un Homme Et Une Femme" shrugs coolly, while Felt's "Penelope Tree" carries a torch for Television.