Review for Man in a Suitcase: Original Soundtrack Selections - 180g Vinyl

With perfect timing (only a handful of weekends left until Christmas) Network have released the first two in a series of bound-to-be collectible vinyl soundtracks. ‘Man in a Suitcase’ is one of the two (with ‘Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased)’ the other) and any self-respecting ITC fan and audiophile won’t be able to conceive of life without a copy in their collection. 

Like all the very best vinyl it comes in a fantastic glossy, heavy cardboard gate-fold sleeve. Festooned with imagery from the series in a groovy suitcase graphic, the inside fold-out is a thing of great beauty. The front cover is kind of business-as-usual with the series title logo and a standard publicity shot whilst the back has a melancholic still of McGill on his lonesome, battered suitcase by his side.

The vinyl itself is held in a classic white paper sleeve and, in common with much vinyl released today, is a chunky 180 gram slab of shiny black loveliness.

According to the publicity, the fine folk at Network have worked with none other than Ray Staff (wait – I’ll tell you who is is) who was apparently the vinyl cutting engineer whose many credits include Bowie’s ‘Ziggy Stardust’ and The Rolling Stones’ ‘It’s Only Rock n’ Roll’. Add to that a tape transfer (not sure from what but assume a 15ips half-inch stereo tape?) from the FX Group and pressing of the finished and very limited pressing by Pallas in Germany and I think it’s fair to say that it sounds as good as it’s are ever going to.


So on to the music itself. Well, it’s always great to hear isolated music scores from your favourite shows and ‘Man in a Suitcase’ has long been one of my personal faves. I had episodes on VHS and then replaced that as soon as the Network DVD set became available. I also got the Retro Blu-Ray compilation which had a ‘MIAS’ episode in HD, so detailed you could see the nicotine stains on Richard Bradford’s fingers. Though I digress. For the uninitiated, ‘MIAS’ is a classic ITC show featuring an American lead, McGill, Richard Bradford’s cool chain smoking discredited ex-CIA agent reduced to working as a private investigator. He travels the world as a ‘gun for hire’ and Bradford’s mumbling method acting style adds an incredible intensity to what is otherwise fairly formulaic ITC fare.

Whilst I clearly recognize the theme song (Ron Grainer) with its pounding piano and brass, I can’t say that I really ever focused on the score. It’s a tribute to the show that there was never any reason to – it held together as it should do as a single compelling piece. So it’s only when you have the chance to sit and listen to it in isolation that you start to appreciate its cleverness. In fact, as I cranked it up in my man cave my wife asked me a couple of times ‘what I was watching’ despite the fact that I don’t have a TV or computer in that room. I seem to vaguely recall a feature on the DVD set which allows you to listen to an isolated score on some episodes and I may re-visit that at some point.


The score, other than the opening theme song, was penned by Albert Elms who delivers up a series of serviceable incidental cues that you will recognize immediately if you’ve seen the series. With a wide range of moods, from melancholy reflection (well, it’s McGill after all) through bongo-fuelled adventure, exotic and glamorous global travel, tension and just downright weird. It’s all here and oddly plays out as a satisfying and cohesive album. I’ve played it four times now and find myself flipping it over every twenty minutes as it becomes apparent that life is far more interesting with it on.

Elms provided the soundtrack to Patrick McGoohan’s ‘The Prisoner’ and, on the strength of this, I sincerely hope that’s on the potential release list too.

I have a load of soundtrack material on CD (Including the excellent ‘Music from ITC’ CD compilation from Network) but very little on vinyl. What I do have I treasure; a Batman TV soundtrack; a bunch of those 21 minute Gerry Anderson EP’s, a Space 1999 soundtrack, a Green Hornet TV episode and a few others but most feature dialogue as well as music. After all, they all herald from before the days of video. Along with View-master reels, spin-off books and related TV comics this was as close as it got to accessing the series on demand. Now we have it all but there’s something very attractive about this release. It’s the vinyl baby!


At £25 it may seem a bit steep for a dabble but when you consider the innate risk associated with such a release, and the cost and labour of love to pull something so utterly special together, like me you’ll consider it a few quid well spent.

The vinyl has a rich, warm analogue feel and despite some reedy moments (this was recorded in 1967) still sounds great.

I suspect that this will be a really limited run so I would also add that if you’re considering a purchase, don’t dilly-dally. It’s only available online, directly from Network.

I should also add that, despite the fragile nature of vinyl, that both this and the ‘Randall and Hopkirk’ discs arrived in perfect nick. One to buy the anorak in your life for Christmas, methinks. Or treat yourself.

Side One
1 Main Titles *
2 Man From The Dead
3 All That Glitters
4 Find The Lady
5 Brainwash
6 The Girl Who Never Was

Side Two
1 Variation On A Million Bucks (part one)
2 Variation On A Million Bucks (part two)
3 The Bridge4 The Man Who Stood Still
5 Somebody Loses, Somebody... Wins?
6 Who’s Mad Now?7 Castle In The Clouds
8 End Titles

*All selections composed by Albert Elms except * Ron Grainer