Three CDs is a lot of music. Think about it. A three CD package will hold as much as 237 minutes of music -- that's four hours of listening, with room for a couple of really quick bathroom breaks. Hell, it's one sixth of a day.

Bande Original doesn't use the full 237 minutes provided by its three discs, but it's still a serious undertaking. This is three CDs of porn music, supposedly culled from a quartet of adult films (though I'm not a follower of porn flicks, particularly French ones, so this could simply be a grand joke that went over my head). Three CDs of porn music is, quite honestly, more than anyone can reasonably be expected to listen to; even the PR firm handling this disc didn't manage to do it, as they confidently advise radio DJs that Bande Original is "all clean" -- which, as anyone who has heard disc one's amusingly graphic hidden track will tell you, it most assuredly isn't.

Here's the thing, though: against all odds, Bande Original is rather good.

"Porn music" probably makes you think of cheesy eighties keyboards and whucka-whucka guitar licks, but that's not what you'll find here. Instead, look for a lot of slow, sexy, Air-inspired lounge grooves, dialogue-sample-driven slow jams, John Barryesque orchestral anthems and moody French folk-rock. Some of the music -- particularly the swankily sexy trip-hop slow-burners, packed with samples of French gals...erm...enjoying themselves -- seems ideally suited to the boudoir, while other pieces come across as either surprisingly sophisticated or flat-out weird. A few tracks stop you dead; the distorted guitars and defiant female vocals of "Contamination", for instance, seem a little out of place (not that a song called "Contamination" should ever fit easily into an adult film), although the song itself is an enjoyable nugget of punk rock.

Indeed, a lot of the music here will leave you wondering just what the hell (other than the requisite reproductive activities) went on in Exhibitions 1999, 24 heures d'amour, Le principe de plaisir and XYZ, the films from which these soundtrack tunes were culled. Disc two's "Divine", for instance, suggests that Exhibitions 1999 includes a nerve-wracking trek through an alien jungle, while "J'en ai rêvé...(Enormous Marav')" hints that XYZ sports some Matrix-style fight scenes. The Esquivel-style lounge tune "Danse du Goumi" is used in the same film, which boggles the mind.

You'll find some of the most interesting tunes on the third disc, subtitled "Electroniqua" -- everything from "Bad Geisha", a clamoring, dystopian affair-cum-blatant Ministry ripoff, to the vigorous disco workout "Electa Disca". Apparently the "Electroniqua" subtitle is entirely gratuitous, as there's very little difference between this volume and the other two.

There's a lot of interesting and fun music on Bande Original, but it comes at a price. The package, covered in photos of M. Trademarq cavorting with naked women, isn't exactly the sort of thing you want to leave sitting on top of the CD player next to your "Hey, look how cool I am" CDs. To the uninitiated, and indeed to anyone who hasn't actually heard it, Bande Original will probably look like one of those "Booty Bass" CDs. Take a moment to consult your mental list of "People I Respect Who Own 'Booty Bass' CDs". It's a blank sheet, isn't it? On a lesser note, while it's clear that Trademarq is capable of sizeable bursts of creativity in the music-writing department, some of his samples are so shamelessly lazy -- in particular, his wholesale theft of the "money" riff from Lunatic Calm's "Leave You Far Behind" -- that you'll want to hop a flight to France (or wherever) and smack him, or at least tell him to work a little harder.

In conclusion...if you can find Bande Original at a decent price, buy it; it's a lot better than it looks. You'll enjoy it. It is not, however, worth more than US$25...or the sacrifice of your credibility. The choice is yours.