This story begins, as so many of them do, with porn.

Sort of.

Back in 2004, my boy Serf came back from a trip to Thailand with a treasure trove of (then) impossible-to-procure “import” CDs, including a handful of Italian and German soundtracks and compilations. The first one we spun was the “incidental” music for the film Vampyros Lesbos. A picture can often tell a story better, so without further ado:

I would be less than honest if I did not confess that this one had me at the title; Vampyros y Lesbos being two of my favorite things. The cover shot (above) is not too shabby either, featuring the gorgeous Soledad Miranda. Who could have guessed the music would be so good? (The film? I can’t tell you because I have not seen it. Yet.)

Suffice it to say, floodgates got opened that have not even begun to close. And this would classify as one of the many stories I tell, when people ask me “How or where in the hell did you find this music?” Usually it’s from reading (reviews, liner notes, acknowledgments), sometimes it’s from hearing a particular tune in a movie (ironically, one of the tracks from Vampyros Lesbos was featured in Tarantino’s ’98 flick Jackie Brown, which was on the screen so quickly it never really registered and I never picked up that soundtrack; if I had I probably would have been on the V&L trail a half-decade sooner…in any event, props to QT for inserting killer tracks into his movies), sometimes it’s the old fashioned way: hearing a song in a restaurant or a car or on the radio (!), and occasionally it’s because a good friend drops a love bomb on me and I quickly make it a point to get more of what I just heard.

It’s daunting, because even a music freak like myself is ceaselessly reminded that no matter how much one accumulates, there are oceans and galaxies of amazing sounds out there. And that’s just the stuff that is still in print or available. You get the picture. For now, let it simply be confirmed that there is a lot more music like this out there, and it’s difficult and expensive (if fun and enlightening) to plow through it. (Be careful: all of a sudden you may find yourself obsessed with Bollywood, or Iranian music, and that might take you in through the out door to Afro-Pop and Nigerian funk and then it’s between you and the man behind the curtain…see you back there.)

But getting back to the vampyros and the lesbos: if you were inclined (or able) to have a “sexadelic dance party”, which is another way of partying like it’s 1969, wouldn’t you want to kick off the proceedings with a song like this?

Maybe once things started getting groovy, it might sound something like this?

Or maybe this is more your speed (if you can combine German austerity, chic smut and psychedelic decadence):

Trust me, the hits keep coming (pun, pretty much not intended).

So, it is enough work for one day to send a shout out to this great soundtrack and the unheralded work of German maestros Manfred Hubler and Siegfried Schwab (could you even create two better names?). But one of the other discs Serf introduced me to is very much a gift that keeps giving: Ambiente Elegante. This one is not a soundtrack so much as a collection of songs from a variety of ’60s (and early ’70s) Italian films.

Aside from being incredible, ranging from bizarro big band numbers, psychedelia, surreal surf music, early electronica, and sexy, if dark jazz-y ballads (trust me), this joint opened my ears up to a cat called Piero Umiliani. An Italian composer who had his hands all over soundtrack work for films ranging from action/adventure to semi (or soft) porn. The range of sounds is not unlike our collective sexual obsessions: slightly inexplicable and all over the place. Needless to say, I mean this in a good way.

Hilariously, Umiliani’s biggest hit may be familiar to Gen-X kids (and/or their parents), as it was featured on Sesame Street and, later, The Muppets.

Below are a trio of selections illustrating the not-quite-believable range of depictions I mention above, in this order: bizarro big band numbers, surreal surf music, and sexy, if (very) dark jazz-y ballads. And this is just the ones I could find on YouTube; there are at least a handful of other cuts that I would happily share (pimp, if you will), were they available. Unfortunately, you’ll have to track them down. Fortunately, pristine copies are available online for just under $50; used copies are going on Amazon for about thirty bucks. Or you can hope one of your good friends has good taste, an eagle eye and is traveling overseas sometime soon.

Piero Umiliani: “Gassman Blues”:

Piero Umiliani: “White Sand” (from Gems of Italian Cinema Vol. 1):

Helen Merill (with Piero Umiliani): “My Only Man”: