

However, and as might be expected, most of the score is high-tech and brassy, a collection of swirling themes, staccato binges and dramatic swells. The inane vocal version, its silly Tim Rice lyrics sung with deadly lethargy by Rita Coolidge, opens and closes the album, though the best version is wordless, horribly retitled "That's My Little Octopussy." It's lush and romantic in the "Born Free" vein and confirms Barry's penchant for inspiring melodic themes. That jangly theme pops up no less than three times in "Octopussy," the same amount of times that "All Time High" appears. No" theme, written not by Barry but by the immortal Monty Norman. Barry's no novice to Bond music, having scored eight previous adventures, but he's shackled by producer Cubby Broccoli's fondness for the original "Dr. Take John Barry's soundtrack for "Octopussy" (A&M SP-4967). If "Flashdance" has stolen "Staying Alive's" thunder, several other recent soundtracks suffer from comparisons to pasts they cannot really escape. "Far From Over" sounds like Stallone was tied all last summer to a radio that only played "Eye of the Tiger," but the song is barely saved by overproduction, a fate that obviously escaped the film and the rest of its soundtrack. What's worse is the second side, with director Sylvester Stallone's brother Frank penning four of six songs, ruining three of them by insisting on singing them himself. The closest one gets is the Bee Gees' "The Woman in You," pulled off their side of the album, but the arrangements are dull, the sterling falsettos dulled with familiarity. For one thing, it's barely a dance album, just as the film is barely a dance film. There's simply nothing on it approaching the hit material from its predecessor (ironically, the best cut is a severely edited version of the original song that gives the film its title, but obviously not its inspiration). "Staying Alive" (RSO 813-269 1-Y-1) is going to have a hard time living up to its title. If the songs are empty-headed (and they are), the arrangements by Giorgio Moroder (five songs) and Phil Ramone (three) create sterling edges that are just right, if not for dancing, certainly for exercising (Carol Hensel could do a voice-over on the entire record). There are several good name-bad song combinations involving Kim Carnes, Laura Branigan and Donna Summer (hard to recognize in a pulsating "Romeo" where Europop meets the New Wave), and more no-name bad song efforts by Shandi, Karen Kamen and Cycle V. In between are eight eminently forgettable songs (the worst being "Love Theme From Flashdance" by Helen St. What a Feeling," which manages to be both anthemic and autobiographical, and Michael Sembello's "Maniac," a catchy celebration of blue-collar idealism as seen through the eyes of Yves St. In reality, "Flashdance" (Casablanca 811492-M-1) is as slight on vinyl as it is on nitrate, the exceptions being Irene Cara's "Flashdance. It's pace has been helped by MTV and the other video venues (all "Fever" had was radio) because "Flashdance" is close to being a succession of video clips connected by traditional film. "Flashdance" has proved to have strong legs, its staying power established both on the screen and on the charts. No, it's not "Staying Alive," the much-ballyhooed sequel to "Saturday Night Fever," but "Flashdance," the perky summer sleeper, Rocky in tights, where dancing replaces boxing.

In less than two months, it's sold more than 2 1/2 million copies, becoming the most successful soundtrack since "Grease". Now another soundtrack, with more dance-oriented hits, has come out.

1-selling album of all time, selling about 25 million copies (a double record set at that) and promptly outgrossing the film. Let's start with the glory year, 1978, and the soundtrack to "Saturday Night Fever." Stocked with a string of dance hits by the Bee Gees and others, it inexorably became the No. THE SOUNDTRACKS of summer '83 are an odd bunch with an unsettling common echo: They suggest, more than anything else, past successes.
