We ends the month as we begins, with vintage unglamorous UK crime, and exchanging The Sweeney's scummy London for turn of 70s Newcastle. Blighted, reeking neglect, industrial detritus, rotting slums, slag heaps, hard men and brutalised women. The Swingin' 60s are not so much buried as erased from history. Cometh the hour, cometh Michael Caine at the top of his game as randy, revengeful anti-hero Jack Carter.
In game topping form too is Roy Budd. The music clinically frames both degraded environment and Caine's muted cool and sporadic extreme violence. Seedy drinking den r'n'b intermixed with main theme variations: spine-tingling harpsichord shards drenched in gloomy reverb and echo. Opening bass-driven funk riff over tablas percussion is bleakly sublime.
Oddi wrth y brawd
piss holes in the snow