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Find out more about Jason: A die hard record collector for 15 years, Jason Gelt has amassed over 5,000 slabs of wax from every conceivable genre and has written about his passion for the LA Times and LA Alternative Press. When it comes to vinyl, he's the man with the plan. |

Who exactly was Hugo Montenegro? Sounds like a character from a Alexander Dumas book, doesn't he? Maybe an evil Count, a guy with a pointy beard who's handy with a saber or an iron maiden?
Aside from the facial hair, the facts are a tad more prosaic. Hugo Montenegro was a Hollywood schmaltz purveyor, a composer of all trades who did a little bit of this, a little bit of that and nearly everything in between. Most of his records -- such as "Rocket Man," a collection of Elton John covers, and "Love Theme From The Godfather"-- are understandably forgettable, by-the-hour forays into head-nodding easy listening territory. Montenegro is perhaps most famous for composing the theme of the second season of "I Dream of Genie." He did a series of semi-experimental electronic albums, including "Moog Power" and "Good Vibrations" that must have really flipped the switches of Hi-Fi-happy members of The Greatest Generation.
But why should we remember Hugo Montenegro? As anyone who's spent more than a few hours flipping through the bargain bins at dusty old record shops knows, it's because of his show stopper LP, "Music From 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.'" Arranged and conducted by "Hugo Montenegro and His Orchestra" and released by RCA Victor, the single version of the title track rang the number 2 bell on the U.S. charts in June, 1968. Why Ennio Morricone's original version didn't garner such distinction is a matter the American public must settle with its own conscience.
Hugo Montenegro's take on the Italian composer's revolutionary spaghetti western themes is big, beefy and bold. While Morricone's version is spare and haunting, Montenegro's thunders with backbeat and a much more pop sensibility. It’s like the difference between a Salisbury steak TV dinner and a pasta salad with fresh basil, but that doesn’t take away from the American record’s unbridled enthusiasm. The manly gibberish-Italian grunting heard on the title cut is reportedly Montenegro himself, a former Navy man who had no fear of rolling up his sleeves and getting into things. The album holds up, though, both as a testament of its time and as a rollicking good listen. In my mind, it's Montenegro's greatest legacy.