����� Esteemed Italian composer Pino Donaggio makes his first appearance here at C-Bast with this new LP release of his score to David Schmoeller's waking nightmare Tourist Trap, released as a deluxe remixed and re-mastered reissue from the folks at Waxwork. Although Donaggio doesn't have quite the same level of cachet as other 70's era film composers when it comes to soundtrack collecting circles, I'm a big fan of the guy's work for film like Don't Look Now, Carrie and the rest of De Palma's early 80's output. Blending romantic themes with eccentric flourishes and suspenseful arrangements that give each score their own unique character, Donaggio is the master of a certain brand of orchestral accompaniment that was at it's peak in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Right in the middle of that was Tourist Trap, a weird little movie that I myself discovered only a few years ago, and which managed to get under my skin to a surprising degree. On the surface, the film would appear to be another routing slasher chasing after the success of Halloween, but it's far from; this tale of wayward travelers who stumble upon a mysterious gas station in the middle of nowhere populated by a madman and his coterie of grotesque mannequins, takes on a bizarre, dreamlike quality that slips further away from reality over the course of the movie. Images from Tourist Trap continue to flicker in my mind, and it's weirdly haunting denouement came as a surprise even to this jaded horror fan.

����� For his score, Donnagio combines unusual woodblock percussion and scraped metallic strings to mimic the stilted, uncanny movements of the simulacrum, these sounds becoming a presence that lurk throughout the entire score. At times alternately playful and deeply sinister, the schizoid shifts are in tune with the film's bizarre premise. Orchestral strings dominate, and are joined by the sounds of harpsichord, electronic keyboards, and ghostly music box melodies; tense action-based sequences give way to eerie ambience, and the wordless vocals that flit throughout these arrangements bring a heavy dose of added nightmarishness to the affair. There's a lyricism to this music that's unique among Italian composers, with moments that occasionally echo the likes of Morricone and Ortolani, but Donaggio also used the tools of his time, utilizing growling synthesizers for key moments, unleashing distorted, rumbling drones that crawl beneath his soaring sentimental strings. All darkly gorgeous stuff, one of my favorite Donnaggio scores.

����� Once again, Waxwork really knock it out of the park with the visual presentation, issuing this LP on 180 gram vinyl, housed in a fantastic gatefold package with creepy-as-hell new artwork from Marc Schoenbach, liner notes from both Donaggio and Schmoeller, and an art print.