James Last’s The Ultimate Collection – A Wild Ride Through Musical Chaos
Alright, let's get one thing straight: James Last doesn’t do subtle. This guy throws genres at you like confetti at a parade—folk, pop, classical, jazz, smooth jazz, easy listening—you name it, he jams it into this 2007 behemoth of an album. And honestly? It works. Kinda. Mostly. Whatever. Let’s dive in.
First off, can we talk about "Summer In Dublin" for a sec? Holy crap, this track slaps harder than your drunk uncle at Christmas dinner. It starts with that Irish stew vibe (pun intended) and just spirals into something so unapologetically over-the-top that you either love it or wanna throw your headphones out the window. The flute solo hits like nostalgia on steroids—if nostalgia was a tipsy leprechaun stumbling through Temple Bar. I remember this tune because it makes me feel like I’m living inside someone else’s fever dream. Like, who even thinks to mix Celtic vibes with lounge music? James Last, apparently. Mad respect.
Then there’s "Wimoweh." Yeah, THE “Wimoweh.” You know, the lion sleeps tonight banger that everyone from Pete Seeger to Disney has butchered beyond recognition. But James gives it his own twist—a weird cocktail of African rhythm meets European orchestra madness. It’s kind of unsettling but also kinda genius. Every time I hear those opening chants, I expect Timon and Pumbaa to pop up singing nonsense lyrics—but nope, here comes James with strings louder than my existential dread. Respectfully unhinged.
Now, look, not everything on this album lands perfectly. Some tracks are straight-up baffling ("Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" sandwiched between reggae covers? Really?) while others feel like they were tossed in last minute by a label exec screaming, “MORE CONTENT!” But hey, isn’t that what makes it fun? Reader’s Digest knew exactly what they were doing when they slapped their logo on this chaos train. It’s less of a cohesive collection and more of a musical buffet where dessert is served before appetizers.
And speaking of chaos, how does anyone fit over 150 songs onto one release without losing their damn mind? Was James Last sitting in some studio yelling, “Throw another polka in there! Wait, add flamenco! No, wait, ABBA!” Honestly, if I tried making a playlist this wild, Spotify would probably ban me for life.
But here’s the kicker—the unexpected beauty of The Ultimate Collection is its refusal to take itself seriously. Sure, it’s messy as hell, but it’s also oddly comforting. Listening feels like flipping channels late at night, catching snippets of random shows and somehow finding joy in the disjointedness. By the time you hit "Yellow Submarine" mashed up with Mozart, you realize this whole project is basically James Last trolling genre purists—and honestly, good for him.
So yeah, give this album a spin if you’re ready for a rollercoaster ride through every possible style under the sun. Just don’t blame me if you end up humming opera in line at Starbucks tomorrow morning.
German big band leader, composer and musician (bass, piano), born 17 April 1929 in Bremen, Germany. Brother of and .
Died on June 9, 2015, aged 86, in Palm Beach, Florida, USA.
He has reportedly sold in excess of seventy million albums worldwide.
Here’s a fun fact: James Last’s *The Ultimate Collection*, released in 2007, is like a musical buffet that spans decades and genres. It’s not just an album—it’s a journey. You’ve got smooth jazz, classical masterpieces, pop hits, and even folk tunes all mashed together. Imagine sipping coffee to Beethoven’s *Moonlight Sonata* one moment, then grooving to the *Macarena* the next. The tracklist feels like a playlist from someone who can’t decide what mood they’re in—but somehow, it works. With over 150 tracks, it’s basically the Swiss Army knife of music collections. How many albums let you jump from *Happy Days Are Here Again* to *Yellow Submarine* without skipping a beat?
