The eMusic Dozen: Vintage Bachelor Pad

The first rule of bachelor pad music is that there is no such thing as a bad version of Francis Lai's "A Man and a Woman" (a.k.a. "Un Homme et Une Femme"), and this Baxter two-fer from the '60s contains one of the classiest interpretations ever waxed. Baxter's lush arrangements of Brazilian bossas like "A Felicidade" and "Tristeza" aren't exactly "traditional" (ditto for ersatz African tracks like the slow-burning "Johannesburg Blues"), but they're extremely intoxicating nonetheless.

No disrespect to Bryant — a very solid sax player who paid some considerable dues on the '50s R&B and jazz circuits — but it's guitarist Grant Green and organist Sonny Phillips who really make this 1969 soul-jazz session cook. Jazz purists may have hated this kind of stuff, but there's nothing like the extended boogaloo grooves of "The Cat" and "Streak O' Lean" to kick your cocktail party into a higher, slightly funkier gear.

One of the more gratifying developments of the last decade has been the renewed interest in library music — i.e., instrumental tracks recorded specifically for use as background music in television shows. As this early-'70s recording attests, Nardini was especially adept at creating music for car chases and nightclub scenes. While they're probably too upbeat and funky for a night in front of the fireplace with that special someone, cuts like "Passport International," "Latinova" and "Frisco Hills" sound dynamite when you're driving along a coastal freeway with the top down.

This collection of late-'60s tracks from organist Pitts and guitarist Martino pretty much splits the difference between soul-jazz and lounge, which is no bad thing. Pitts' husky voice is admittedly something of an acquired taste, but you can't argue with such sublime instrumentals as "Take Five," "What The World Needs Now" and (yes!) "A Man and a Woman." And their peppy version of Herb Alpert's "The Spanish Flea" will certainly enliven the nude Twister games at your next key party.

It doesn't matter how self-conscious, awkward and shy you may be; put on a Pucho record, and in no time you'll be feeling suave, saucy and smooth. This collection of percolating tracks from 1965-66 shows the bandleader and his pals injecting just the right amount of Latin soul into such bachelor pad standards as "The Shadow of Your Smile," "Caravan," "Alfie" and "Walk On By" — the latter two offering further proof that you can never have too many groovy Burt Bacharach covers in your collection.

When I'm spending a gloomy afternoon in my penthouse apartment recovering from a scotch hangover and pondering the future of mankind, there's nothing like Smith's slyly optimistic rendition of "Here's That Rainy Day" to put things in their proper perspective. Ditto for his upbeat take on Henry Mancini's "The Days of Wine and Roses," and his smoldering cover of Lou Rawls' "Love Is a Hurtin' Thing." This is soul-jazz with an emphasis on soul — which is just how I dig it, baby.

If you're planning to break out the hookah at your next soiree, don't do it without a little Gabor Szabo on hand. The Hungarian guitarist's droning, quasi-psychedelic brand of jazz is at its best on smoky interpretations of Burt Bacharach's "The Look of Love" and Paul Mauriat's "Love Is Blue" — two all-time bachelor pad classics — and his two Donovan covers ("Sunshine Superman," "Three King Fishers") are nicely trippy, too. Just the ticket for those more "contemplative" moments, if you catch my drift.

The jazz critics who slaughtered this wonderful album upon its 1969 release must have been listening with lead-lined earmuffs. Sure, the arrangements are more "pop" than the stuff Tjader cut with George Shearing and Dave Brubeck, but his fluid-yet-articulate vibraphone style really brings out the sparkle in Bacharach's sophisticated melodies — most notably on "I Say A Little Prayer," "Message to Michael" and "Walk On By." If you're not ready to loosen your tie and shake up a martini by the end of "Moneypenny," you just might be Dick Cheney.

One of the Italian cinema's finest composers — he penned the immortal nonsense anthem "Mah Na Mah Na" for the 1969 film, Svezia, Inferno E Paradiso — Piero Umiliani also created several instrumental pop albums. His best was 1971's appropriately titled To-Day's Sound; 35 years after its release, the record's spacey stew of wah-wah guitars, moog synths, reverb-heavy flutes and exotic rhythms still sounds unbelievably contemporary. Oh, and "Lady Magnolia" and "Safari Club" would be excellent soundtrack choices for that home porno tape you've been thinking about making.

On those rare occasions when I bathe by myself, I always reach for this collection of late-'60s/early-'70s soul-jazz. Tracks like Richard "Groove" Holmes' "Misty" and Jack McDuff's "The Honeydripper" are smooth and soulful enough to lift the cares from my aching shoulders, yet fiery enough to keep me from falling asleep and pulling a Brian Jones. Don't miss Charles Earland's "More Today Than Yesterday," wherein the Mighty Burner somehow turns an AM pop trifle into an epic Hammond workout.

The greatest bossa nova organist of all time, Wanderley always sounded like he was playing with one foot in a Brazilian rainforest and the other in a space station lounge. This 1972 collection doesn't quite match the cosmic magnificence of his '60s Verve sides, but it comes awfully close. If you're looking to get your samba on — horizontally or otherwise — "Mas Que Nada, "One Note Samba" and "Meditation" will definitely take you where you want to go.