Mel Henke
La Dolce Henke (Scamp 9716)

Of the many labels reissuing "space age bachelor pad music" in the 90s, Scamp Records was, from the get-go, one of the very classiest and intelligent in choosing what to release. While they definitely coasted on a trend, it always seemed that they were a bit more "in" on the heart of the lounge scene, and their CDs always received lovingly reproduced original cover art rather than campy illustrations of martini glasses and guys in tuxedos.

Scamp is to lounge what Blue Note is to jazz, and even as this trend recedes back to its original audience (about 300 people?), they can be counted on for interesting music. La Dolce Henke is nothing if not interesting.

A hodge-podge of brassy advertising music, weirdo sound effects, sexy moans and 50s Playboy Magazine humor, Mel Henke's demented masterpiece is almost without comparison. Slicker and less "other-planet bonkers" than Esquivel, this music is closer to Spike Jones with a sex obsession. Henke gets a lot of mileage out of replacing words from vocal songs with big trumpet bleats or splashing water (?), resulting in lines like "I loved her in the (BWA! BWA!)"

And this never gets tired because it's so goofy to begin with. The album is decidedly less "fringe" than, say, Into Outer Space with Lucia Pamela, but it is certainly in a world of its own.

Henke was a jingle producer ("See The USA in Your Chevrolet" is even included here as a bonus track) who made five albums over the course of his career; I can't see how any could have been more odd than this one. It's not funny, exactly, but not annoying either. A better listen than it probably should be.

Favorite tracks: "The Lively Ones," featuring Herschel Bernardi narrating a scenario that could either be about sex or cars (the album is filled to the Brim with double-entendres); "All That Meat" (a blues – "All that meat/and no potatoes"); and "Woman in Space," which comes absolutely out of nowhere with a wild electric violin. "Wow! That's what I call a blast off!"

I have no idea what the market was for this when it was released in 1962, much less 1997 when it was reissued. Are there really people still out there with 90s-era "bachelor pads" who listen to this sort of thing recreationally? I mean, they all traded in the martini-shakers for swing dancing lessons, right? And then subsequently, swing dancing lessons for turntable decks?

Still, kudos to Scamp for continuing to carve out a very specialized niche for themselves, as the reputable lounge label. Who knows how much longer before the tolerance that was once enthusiasm becomes disdain, but there's no point in blaming the baby for the mother's crack addiction (unless the baby was dealing).

Loud Bassoon rating scale

Review by Pör Guy