The first music from the iconic 1967 TV series to be commercially released was a 1986 LP (and later CD) on the Bam Caruso label (one of the best names ever), which gathered original cues by Ron Grainer, Albert Elms, Robert Farnon and Wilfred Josephs. That platter contained the original title music, alternate title music, and material largely centered around the pilot episode “Arrival” and a few others.

Running 49 mins., it was above-average in terms of content, mixing dramatic and source cues. In 1991, Silva Screen produced a three volume series; the first two volumes covered most of the original cues, whereas the third contained stock music from the Chappell library, including music by Farnon, Roger Roger, Pierre Bonneau, Jean-Claude Petit, and Johnny Hawksworth.

That was followed by a 3-disc set from Network in 2008, which contained more of the original music composed for the series, boosting the previously released material with alternate takes from the original recording sessions. In compiling that set, Network gained access to the show’s Music Bible, which Eric Mival created while he was employed as the show’s second music editor in 1967.

That bible provided a navigation path for the show’s original and library music, and the wealth of library cues clearly impressed Derek Lawton enough to produce this set, which contains virtually every stock music cue from the Chappell library.

Why bother, one may ask?

On the one hand, it satisfies fans wanting every note of music that appeared in the series (which, quite frankly, is no different than Battlestar Galactica fans wanting all of Bear McCreary’s music on CD). There were many sequences that clicked with fans because of the story and music, and no doubt the most ardent will find other favourite tracks that weren’t included on the other releases.

This set will satisfy completists, but it’s also of value to those fond of library cues. Library music is essentially pre-composed and pre-recorded music filmmakers can use in their films in place of original score. For as fee, they buy the rights to use the music on a non-exclusive basis, which means other filmmakers could very well use the same cues if they happened to fit their films or TV series.

(TV shows like the original Twilight Zone commissioned original scores, and that music was subsequently chopped up and reused as part of the production’s own in-house music library, and additionally was absorbed into the CBS music library, which in turn got reused in other TV shows and films.)

The Prisoner music stands unique because the composers were British and/or European, and the cues reflect the style of the era, as filmmakers liked to make use of newly recorded library tracks. That makes this set equally interesting for library fans, since the cues are unedited time capsules of the era’s music tastes, and are probably being released for the first time on CD.

Moreover, it showcases the skill of the composers most people have never heard of, yet wrote a wealth of ‘mood music’ in orchestral, jazz, lounge, and waltz idiom, as well as styles characterized in this CD set as wild west frolic, carnival antics, Japanese folk, French chanson, Germanic prancing, Spanish flamenco, and march.

The most prolific composer in the set is Robert Farnon, whose material spans eerie spacey (“Experiments in Space Part 2”) or soundalike marches that evoke British and German militarism.

Cue lengths vary from less than a minute to around three, and the variety within the set is constantly surprising. As Lawton details in the set’s chunky booklet, star/producer/show runner Patrick McGoohan liked a schizophrenic music style because it reflected the weird moods and visuals that his character, No. 6, encountered while trapped in the Village, a sickeningly jovial environs where each ‘guest’ (er, abducted spy) was assigned a number, and was eventually worn down by rival agents to reveal national secrets. There were allegories galore, cryptic dialogue exchanges, rampant absurdism, and frustrating minimalism.

If fans of Lost were pulling out hairs because the writers failed to provide full explanations of why the characters were trapped on a tropical island until the series’ final season, Prisoner fans were equally giddy/grumbly because little of No. 6’s background was ever detailed, and the chief question the Village chieftans were badgering the spy was ‘Why did you resign?’ – a query that was answered by McGoohan and the show’s writers with a bizarre series finale more surreal (but less pretentious) than David Lynch’s finale for Twin Peaks.

The Music

The set’s best dramatic cuts include Jack Beaver’s “The Ionosphere” and the chilling, semi-Friedhofian “Spaceways”; Dennis Rycoth’s lovely semi-ragic “Series Two – 1. Romantic sad lonely theme,” with clarinet and solo violin; the gentle dual guitar piece “Berceuse pour Isabelle / Lullaby for Isabelle” by Paul Aliprandi; the regal, classically styled “Faith” by Felton Rapley, with heavy string textures; Eric Peter’s spacey “Electronic Mind” and “Electronic Screams” (the latter is admittedly more sound effect than music); Sidney Torch’s slow-flaring brass in “Off Beat Moods Part 1: Section 1 – Rolling tympani with beat”; and the reverse-processed electronic creepiness and ominous brass in Farnon’s “Drumdramatics.”

There’s also the jazzy “Foret Tropicale / Tropcal Forest” by Bonneau, with pizzicato electric guitar counter-pointed by a thundering tympani and funky bongos rippling in the background; Rycoth’s bluesy “Eastside: Section 2 – suspense in rhythm”; Roger’s quirky, pulsing kitsch piece “Blast Off”; Nino Nardini’s weird “Le Siffleurs / The Whistler,” a breezy evocation of a parkside stroll with shrill electronic notes mimicking a happy-go-lucky whistle; Bonneau’s “Stac Flat” is Delerue-styled fluff propelled by a fluttering flute in high and soothing low registers; and Nardini’s other weirdity, “Catch That Man,” featuring a bass groove that carries quacking electric brass emulations and echoplexed bell rings.

Fans of Farnon’s writing will be delighted by his eerie cues (short as they are), and there’s some rare material by Hawksworth, whose own forays into film scoring (The Penthouse) were few are far between. The latter’s standout cues are the drunken sitar and brass combo “Psychedelia,” “Hipster” (which sounds like a game show theme), and although brief, several eerie and funky harpsichord cues (some co-composed with Grainer).

The harpsichord tracks are part of 6 bonus cuts that are sometimes associated “in error” with the series. (The others are Sauvage’s “Attente Trans Europe Express,” and Clive Richardson’s “Mood Sinister.”) The 2 other bonus cuts are Charles Williams’ “House of Mystery” (featured in Dennis Potter’s The Singing Detective) and the Beatles’ “All You Need is Love,” performed quite vividly (in stereo) by The Bootleg Beatles.

Most of the cues are in mono, but there are a handful of stereo cuts: Bonneau’s weepy ondes martinot track Berceuse a l’enfant / A Child’s Lullaby”; Camille Sauvage’s rocking super-spy spoof “Attente Trans Europe Express,” and the slow-bopping “Attente / Waiting,” with vibes and funky organ; the rock styled, brass heavy “Bienvenue Mister Jones / Welcome Mr. Jones” by Jack Arel and Pierre Dutour; Arel and Jean Claude Petit’s funky rock track “Psychedelic Portrait,” with its heavy rhythm and flaring trumpet squeals; the pseudo-Arabic exotica “Arabian market” by Roger; the farting brass and gilded harpsichord heavy “Chasse a courre / Stag Hunting” by Bonneau; Francois De Bolsvalle’s Medieval “Andante – from 1er Concert,” with a lovely violin solo; Roger’s aptly titled “Pavane”; the chilling ondes martinot and dreamy chimes over grinding string bass in Bonneau’s “Universal Sideral / Sidereal Universe”; Arel and Petit’s slow-rock “Hemisphere Sud / Southern Hemisphere”; the flowing harp and brass track “Ocean” by Joe Veneux; Mel Young’s groovy electric keyboard blues cut “The Dark Room”; and Roger’s trippy “Lunar Landscape / Profondeurs,” which moves from monster music menace to trippy space. (Rather surprisingly, the cue also recalls Elmer Bernstein’s own trippy approach in Saturn 3.)

Few of the cues have recording flaws, and the stereo cuts and warm and bass-friendly. The tracks have been arranged in chronological episode order, and the massive 56-page booklet has a track list and an additional scene-by-scene episode guide featuring every cue used in the series.

Even if there had never been any original music written for The Prisoner, this collection manages to capture the eccentric essence of McGoohan’s cult TV series. Clearly a labour of love and obsession, and well worth it.

For an interview with the album’s producer Derek Lawton, click HERE.

© 2010 Mark R. Hasan