"Cowboy Bebop: Vitaminless" opens with "Bebop's" closing theme, "The Real Folk Blues," which up until now hasn't been released on any previous "Cowboy Bebop" soundtrack. Officially a single for the beloved aural tagger for the Bebop series, Vitaminless' seven tracks overview the previous three "Cowboy Bebop" albums, O.S.T. 1, No Disc, and Blue. And despite the villainous marketing tactic of selling one of the most popular "Bebop" songs on a single with previously released material, Victor Entertainment has at least assembled an eclectic showcase of composer Yoko Kanno's "Bebop" work.

The first and featured track, emblazoned in bold capital letters at the top of the track list on the back cover, isn't real folk or real blues, but a composite-styled rock song which attempts to capture the sadness of real folk. Yoko Kanno keeps her up-tempo power ballad on the verge of cacophony, the instrumentation less precise, draped on Mai Yamane's deep alto vocals. And at the end of the piece Kanno yields to the cacophony - a walking bass line breaks into a gallop, minor chords drag the major harmonics, dirty jazz brass shots and a distorted descant guitar line invade the driving melody like a cancer.

"Odd Ones" is derived from mind-century bebop jazz, the kind pioneered by John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespe and crew. However, Kanno's trademark melodic sensibility grounds the ostensible free form. Especially transfixing, Mark Soskin's piano weaves in and out of the other instrumental lines with the dexterity and artistry of a virtuoso.

"Doggy Dog" is a rhythmic, drums-driven ditty derivative of tribal chant. A celebration of canine pride, its chorus of "we are the doggy doggy dogs" invokes the same primal glee that dogs seem to have when chasing their tail.

"Dog" is a fitting precursor to the feline "Cats on Mars," a poppy, syncopated number with an electronic calliope driving Kanno's melody while a single high-hat keeps time. Its sugary effervescence, underscored with mutated chords on the second and fourth beats, evokes the image of a quartet of Japanese woman stumbling down the street, happy as larks, drunk off their ass from a night at the dance club - or a cat strutting around a house as if he owned it. But that's the very beauty of Kanno, nary a typical image.

"SPY" is so modeled on the themes from American action dramas of the 60s and 70s that it works as homage to the genre. This track hops along in Henry Mancini fashion, with tinges of John Barry's "James Bond" whimsy.

Next up is the frenetic, schizophrenic, apoplectic "Fantaisie Sign." Like a French Sade, vocalist Carla Vallet opens this piece with a haunting sensuality that surrenders to a light techno beat and a melody that sounds as if it derailed from an EPCOT song about energy and landed on Kanno's mixing board. The least engaging number on the CD.

"Piano Bar 1" features pianist Mark Soskin once again, tickling the ivories in a 2 a.m. closing time number with ragtime leanings a la Randy Newman. This tinkling punctuates the end of every episode right before the closing credits run, and closes this sampler album for the "Bebop" soundtrack trilogy with the style and grace of a dry martini.

But the "Bebop" philosophy rests on expecting the unexpected. Black Coffee, a hidden track about a half a minute after the end of "Piano Bar 1," explores yet another style of jazz - improv miasma on top of conga drums. Muted trumpets play a swing melody as individual reeds dance on the primal rhythms. And a persistent prowler unsuccessfully prods a perspective liaison with a proposition of sharing some coffee.

A fitting sampler for an excellent series of CDs.