In this era of multinational multimedia corporations, soundtrack albums have become little more than advertising space for corporations' music divisions. Can you think of a memorable score from the last ten years? You'd have to travel into the rarefied air of Greek art house movies and pick out Eleni Karaindrou's score to "Ulysses' Gaze" for anything even remotely striking.

So what benefit can the humble individual glean from soundtracks such as "Splendor?" One can hope for worthwhile exclusive tracks (i.e. not duff album session outtakes). One can hope for intriguing collaborations that don't boil down to the Royal Philharmonic riffing on your favorite band's latest hit or some clueless b-boy rapping alongside a digitally resurrected classic rocker. One can hope, period.

But hopes, as the poets warn, are tenuous, flighty critters and "Splendor," while promising intrigue and experiment, settles for unit-shifting mediocrity. Astralwerks' intent is manifest right from the beginning as they trot out their most lucrative artist, Fatboy Slim, who offers his mediocre Rhodes piano and theremin wunderstuck, "Sho' Nuff." I haven't seen the film, but I really want to see how they spice up a scene with a track that's as tired and limp as a senile ex-gigolo and about as entertaining to be around.

Following that, Locust's retread of Slowdive's "Shine" sounds almost dandy, not that Locust's resident pioneer sound manipulator Mark van Hoen has altered it a great deal. This could have been one of the saving graces of this disc. Alas, that canteen of refreshing hope has been kicked away from our parched, expectant lips.

Lionrock, probably still smarting from the fact everyone ignored their City Delirious LP, seek revenge by tarting up the London Suede's astoundingly obvious "The Chemistry Between Us" ("Class a/ Class b/ Is that the only chemistry between us?") Sheesh. I'm despondent now, and we're only on the third track.

Up next, Everything but the Girl contribute the Chicane remix of 1996's "Before Today." I'm beginning to detect a pattern here. Filmmaker Gregg Araki has chosen club-lite versions of trite love songs to add a hip zing to his effervescent movie. And rather than go to the expense of getting someone like Todd Edwards to pen some top notch club choons, he's gone for the cheap licensing deal. And lo and behold, Astralwerks smelt an expense-recouping marketing opportunity-- a label sampler you pay $15 for. How else were they gonna get someone to buy a record by the Joyce Sims- sampling and terminally third-rate Micronauts? Of course, Kevin Shields' shredding of Lush's "Sweetness and Light" appears here as a tantalizing incentive to buy. Or is it just to distract you from all that filler?

Araki must love his shoegazing bands, because Lush aren't the only ones to get the remix treatment here. Mad Professor finds the previously expertly concealed fountain of dub in Chapterhouse's "Mesmerise;" UNKLE's James Lavelle takes on Hurricane #1's "Only the Strongest Will Survive" and proves neither he nor his source material deserve to win in Darwin's evolutionary contest. Somebody called Atlas takes on the House of Love's grating "I Don't Know Why I Love You," making it sound like the Fine Young Cannibals in the process. That's worthwhile, surely!

So is there anything of value here? Apart from Kevin Shields' aforementioned remix of Lush, only New Order's "Bizarre Love Triangle," (you can imagine what sequence in the film this song appears in) which is always a supreme pleasure to hear. It hasn't been remixed, it's hasn't been updated. It's exactly as it was when New Order dropped it into our hopeful lives-- a true splendor. It's a shame nothing else here attempts such heights. Lazy gits.

-Paul Cooper