Dream a Dream with Studio G
Digging (and digging into) a groovy new collection of British library music
As any regular reader of this Substack knows by now, I have a serious weakness for instrumental sounds, especially those of the funky, groovy, faux-exotic and/or deliciously dreamy variety.
My taste for such things can most likely be traced back to prolonged exposure to 1970s television, as well as the easy-listening Muzak that was piped into the elevators, hotel lobbies, department stores and orthodontist offices of my youth.
And while I totally understand that this kind of stuff isn’t everyone’s cup of mead, I’ve delighted in finding other like-minded souls through the years who truly “get it” — such as the pal one very stoned night thirty-some years ago who turned to me while I was playing an Arthur Lyman record and exclaimed, “Whoa! This stuff is so smooth, it’s like… edgy!”
It’s to such like-minded souls that I highly recommend Jazz Dispensary and Craft Recordings’ Dream a Dream with Studio G: Cratedigger’s Archive: 1970-2009, a new collection of mostly vintage mood-music cues from the UK library music house Studio G. Though not nearly as well known as KPM, Chappell or De Wolfe (to name three UK library giants who produced cues, themes and background music for film and television), Studio G — which was founded by John Gale in 1966 — specialized in what Dream a Dream compiler/producer Ryan Jebavy describes in his liner notes as “pastoral folk, maniacal horror, funk-spat jazz, quixotic pop, alluring electro and the usual novelty side spells of national anthems, children’s music and whatever other utilitarian cues society demanded of the moment.”
Jebavy goes on to note that, “What separated Studio G from the rest of the pack, however, was Gale’s undying drive and commitment towards minimalistic, psychedelic-leaning production, by way of oceans of reverb and delay, and in some cases even tape loops, not to mention a sense of artistic style and design not previously harnessed from competing production companies.”
Dream a Dream with Studio G totally testifies to the truth of Jebavy’s words. But rather than simply offer a thematic or “Best of” collection of Studio G tracks, Jebavy presents two side-long mixes (“Dream A — Psychotropic Hopping Morning” and “Dream B — Space Temple Midnight”) that weave a wild variety of themes and cues into each other, creating a constantly shifting groove and mood.
Though my ears immediately perked up at the opening (soft) punch of Will Thomson’s “Electrospheres,” Paul Mottram’s “Incandescence” and Paul Lewis’s “Hello Spring,” I’ll admit that I initially found this presentation kind of frustrating; unlike the various KPM collections I own, which work well as both deep listening and background music, Dream a Dream with Studio G changes gears too often to establish any kind of consistent headspace.
But once I put on a pair of headphones and actually paid close attention to the music, I found myself completely lost in the different colors, flavors and rhythms that Studio G’s composers and musicians came up with, and totally knocked out by the sonic “trips” that Jebavy constructed from them. (Let’s just say that those cartoon mushrooms on the cover aren’t merely there for show.)
While “Dream A” is predominantly culled from 1970s tracks, the “Dream B” side is largely comprised of tracks from the 1980s, 90s and 00s. Though these are not decades that I normally venture into where this type of stuff is concerned, alluring tracks like John Brown’s flute-tastic “Slope Soaring” and the druggy exotica of James Harpham’s “Star Blossom” have kept me coming back for more.
So if flute salads, chewy synths and pastoral vibes sound like your kind of picnic, Dream a Dream with Studio G is something you’ll definitely want to ask Santa for this Christmas. The album, which has been released on gorgeous (and really quiet-sounding) red vinyl with an eye-catching and info-packed gatefold cover, is also available on all the streaming services. In fact, while listening to it again on Apple Music, I realized that there’s a veritable shit-ton of original albums from Studio G also currently available on streaming. So if you don’t hear from me for a week or two, it’s most likely because I’ve gotten lost down a Studio G rabbit hole…
You may also groove on the following:
You had me at flute salads.
New to me. Sounds perfect.