CD Review: The Beach

All Saints lead The Beach soundtrack

By the BBC's Chris Charles

The first blockbuster of the century is upon us, and don't we know it.

Unless you've had your head buried firmly in the sand for the past few months, you've already seen this film a thousand times, at least that's what it feels like.

After being force-fed Leo mania with our morning cornflakes and afternoon tea, any travel boom resulting from The Beach is likely to be caused by a desperation to escape the hype, rather than a desire to see the world.

Leo mania has followed the film

With movies of this magnitude the soundtrack is often second-rate (see Titanic), but for once the moguls have got it right.

With the exception of Dario G's dreary Voices and the inexplicable need to tinker with Blur's On Your Own, this is a compilation guaranteed to make you lie back and think of paradise.

Danny Boyle and the Trainspotting team couldn't have scripted it better, fielding the best of British alongside the magnificent Moby and putting pride before profit to ensure a Celine-free zone.

It is, essentially, a dance album which announces its intentions with Leftfield's Snakeblood - dark, broody and instantly compelling.

All Saints have been handed the job of bringing the soundtrack to the public's attention with the film's first single, Pure Shores.

Orbit works his magic with the All Saints

Man of the moment William Orbit manages to transform them in to a Madonna tribute band (funny that) and while not one of the album's defining moment, it's a grower that pops into your head without warning.

Of the 14 tracks, 10 are exclusive to The Beach, but the resurrection of Unkle's collaboration with Richard Ashcroft on Lonely Soul and Mary Konte's Yeke Yeke chant are welcome additions.

The emphasis throughout is on chilling, with the big guns from the world of dance lending their considerable weight to ensure the experience is a memorable one.

Underworld's 8 Ball blends Stone Roses rhythms with warbling keyboards and echo chamber vocals, while Moby's Porcelain goes down a similar route, taking in orchestral sweeps and a tinkling piano.

A welcome return from New Order

New Order show the world what they've been missing with the guitar-led Brutal, Faithless take an eight-minute journey into the unknown with the hypnotic Woozy and Asian Dub Foundation groove out on the horny Return of Django.

The last word, inevitably, goes to that man Leo. Like Ewan McGregor before him (with the PF Project), he gives us the benefit of his worldly wisdom on Beached as Orbital's mesmeric keyboards swirl around him.

"Trust me, it's paradise... keep your mind open and suck in the experience," he advises.

And if you do, put a copy of this in your Discman - you could pick a worse travelling companion.