Over the past two decades, guitarist and preservationist Ry Cooder has quietly forged one of the most consistently compelling musical careers in film. His 1997 music for director Wim Wenders"s uneven exercise in Hollywood metaphor-mongering begins with typically (dare we say it) Cooder-esque exercises in spacious, loping bottleneck electric guitar over subtle, ominous electronic effects, then interweaves cool jazz and even hip-hop influences into one of the musician"s most subtle, satisfying efforts yet (featuring the talents of mixer Howie B., accordionist Flaco Jimenez, trumpeter Jon Hassell, drummer Jim Keltner, tenor sax player Gil Bernal, guitarist James "Blood" Ulmer, and son Joachim Cooder on percussion). As is so often the case with Cooder"s work, it"s a score to savor when the film has faded from memory. --Jerry McCulley