Rick Sanders of Intro reviews the latest discs. Published in the magazine during January 1968
MR. SECOND CLASS—The Spencer Davis Group:
Time Seller amazed us all by not selling in bulk, and people started saying the usual boring rubbish about Spencer being nowhere without the genius of Steve Winwood. We know that’s a load of rubbish now—and Mr. Second Class should convince all infidels that the Spencer Davis Group lives and raves better than ever. This lovely, powerful production, kicks off with huge rolling piano and organ roar; biting, insistent guitar, and then in comes the electrifying singing. The song builds up and up into a compulsive, mesmerizing climax. Lost without Steve? Never!
HAVANA ANNA—Crocheted Doughnut Ring:
This is either going to be a mammoth hit with everybody you meet compulsively humming the tune, or a big resounding flop. It’s one of those records only the cloth-ear brigade could ignore. I personally love this group for its strange thudding beat, unintelligible words, violent abandon, and the sound of waves breaking on the beach—or am I round the bend? Anyway, play the disc as loud as your brain will stand and have a ball trying to figure out what it all means.
THE WHO SELL OUT (LP)—The Who:
Yes, definitely a sell-out! This is without any doubt at all the best thing The Who have ever produced—as usual coming up with something nobody else has done and totally sensational. The theme of Sell Out is dreaded commercialism—the songs are interspersed with down memory-lane Big L jingles. The amazing cover depicts R. Daltrey languishing in a bath of Beanz, P. Townshend transforming his armpits into charmpits, K. Moon laying into a crimson teenage spot, J. Beefcake Entwistle looking huge.
The songs have Marvin Gaye horror titles like Odorono, Medac and all stations west. However, Sell Out isn’t all badverts—I Can See For Miles (why wasn’t it number one?) is included along with others—all terrific, particularly Sunrise; this is a piece of poetry with a great acoustic guitar backing, completely different from anything they’ve done before. This track alone should guarantee eternal glory for The Who—and all you can say is “perfection”.
IF I COULD BUILD MY WHOLE WORLD AROUND YOU—Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell:
This isn’t a bad record—but it’s the old complaint. Why are Tamla Motown putting out so many records all practically the same? Marvin Gaye (not forgetting Tammi Terrell) is capable of greatness —remember Can I Get A Witness? How stupid to waste him on this sort of record when he could be storming the walls with decent material.
ELECTRIC MUSIC FOR MIND AND BODY—(LP)—Country Joe and The Fish:
I wasn’t too struck on this at first, but now it’s had time to sink in, it’s easy to see why this group is going down so well in America. It’s a progressive, well-thought out sound from San Francisco, with moments of great beauty, sheer electricity. The oddball lyrics a la Dylan are half spoken, half sung by Country Joe McDonald himself. The best tracks are Not So Sweet Martha Lorraine—a driving, blues-based number, and Section 43, an instrumental which burns and glows on its way through all the colours of the rainbow. By the way, the sleeve notes dedicate this album to Mr. and Mrs. Martin Dimbatt—don’t worry and listen to it all the same . . . feed your mind as well as your body! (Rick Sanders 06/01/68)
TOO MUCH OF NOTHING— Peter, Paul and Mary:
Everybody knocks Peter, Paul and Mary—they’ve sold out to commercialism! Not ethical! Safe as milk! So scream the fools’ chorus. Be that as it may, the time I saw them live they were tremendous, and even the purists were yelling for encores with the best of them at the end. They have something to say, and this single, a new Dylan composition, is their best ever. It’s a very personal, melancholy song made up of two contrasting styles. Half the time it’s brash and beaty, rather like The Mamas and The Papas at their best with bitter lyrics of disillusionment and despair. Then there is the soft, plaintive chorus sung in moving harmony. Everyone I’ve played this record to raves about it. But when you come to think about it, people just don’t seem to buy progressive works of art on singles. So I suppose that Too Much Of Nothing will be another wonderful record seized by John Peel and rejected by the mass of record buyers. I hope I’m wrong.
IF EVER I WOULD LEAVE YOU—The Bachelors:
I’m told that this is the outstanding song from Camelot. So no doubt The Bachelors will pick up the gravy yet again with a nice, unremarkable bit of musical candyfloss. They’ve obviously been put off going progressive for ever by the lack of success of 3 o’clock Flamingo Street, which was very sad indeed. If Ever I Would Leave You is a shade quieter than the usual Bachelors, but nevertheless full rein is given to the eyes-heavenward, dig-the-Irish-charm bit. You can hear all the words and you couldn’t get nicer music to soothe the fevered brows of the old school. Probably a medium-sized hit, but not, I’m afraid, with your very own friendly record reviewer.
AM I THAT EASY TO FORGET?—Engelbert Humperdinck:
Am I That Easy To Forget? the man asks. No mate, not with a name like that! However, the record . . . About twenty times as groovy as The Last Waltz, but even so, how can it be anything but a huge hit? The melody had considerably more to it and Engelbert seems to have started to move away from the corny rent-a-tune schmaltz of his other records. The orchestration by Les Reed is more subtle, despite the efforts of a heavenly choir to turn the whole she-bang into a singalong gala night. There’s some very tasteful jazzy piano a la Sounds Orchestral popping up in a couple of places, and Engelbert’s voice seems to have come to life a bit. This record is quite an improvement all round.
IT WAS FUN WHILE IT LASTED—The Wildweeds:
This I liked very much. It’s slightly sophisticated- soul music with sweeping strings and controlled, urgent singing above an insistent beat. There’s none of the frantic “Come on, children!” sort of melodramatics. As a result, it’s the music and nothing more that generates the excitement—and there’s plenty. I shouldn’t think anyone in Britain, apart from the record company, has heard of The Wildweeds, but this single will alter the situation. The Wildweeds are pretty wild, but nobody could accuse them of being weedy!
DARLIN”—The Beach Boys:
Wild Honey, the last release from the ex-Kings of Surf, bombed completely. Darlin’ is a sort of watered-down Wild Honey, part two, with a touch of soul. Although it’s a fine record, it’ll probably get just about as much chart success as its predecessor. It’s too simple and uncomplicated. A nice over-all sound is vital, but you have to have more than that to show a clean pair of heels to Des O’Connor and Engelbert. What happened to the creative magic of Brian Wilson that gave us such a string of goodies ranging from I Get Around to Good Vibrations? Don’t get me wrong, Darlin’ isn’t a bad record but The Beach Boys aren’t showing us their true colours on it. Give us something new, Brian. (Rick Sanders 13/01/68)
BY THE THE TIME I GET TO PHOENIX —Marty Wilde:
How many readers remember the heyday of the Marty Wilde/Cliff Richard/Billy Fury rock ‘n’ roll era in England? It was long ago, and the new Marty is a changed man. A cover version of Glenn Campbell’s American hit, its a slowish, well-produced sound and, even if it doesn’t come crashing into the top twenty, it lets us know that Marty is alive and in better form than ever. A polished, attractive performance.
LONDON’S NOT TOO FAR—Hank B. Marvin:
Hank, spectacle man of The Shadows, goes solo with his own composition. It’s a tuneful, understated sound, the story of a girl who leaves home to go to London in search of the pop star she loves. And it turns out in the last line that she’s only five years old. Hank hasn’t got a remarkable voice -but he puts over this strange story very effectively. It’s distinctive enough to make chart progress, with the added attraction of the rest of The Shadows on the other side with a goodie called Running Out Of World.
ITS WONDERFUL—The Young Rascals:
And so says all of me! This is a turbulent, brainwarping single with a bagful of strange, happy and disturbing noises round a first-rate bluesy song. These noises include croaks, Boys’ Brigade drumming, whistling, a stampede, screams, kazoo outbursts, and you’d be forgiven for thinking the barnyard had invaded the studio. It’s nothing if not original and imaginative, and the singing (yes, they sing too!) is among the best from an American group. This is a daring sort of record—but the experiment is a huge success. Great stuff!
LIVE AT KELVIN HALL (LP)—The Kinks:
I suppose somebody must buy these live LPs, but it sure enough ain’t me. All you get is a barrage of screams and general uproar with perhaps one word in ten managing to fight its way through the chaos to your poor, struggling ears. Perhaps the idea behind it is to sacrifice quality for excitement and spontaneity—but plastic grooves just can’t convey the electric atmosphere of a live performance. So, I’m sorry to report that this LP is a crude substitute for the real Kinks.
Some glimmerings of light do come through on the beaty numbers like I’m On An Island and You Really Got Me. But we all know that the beauty of the Kinks is the subtlety and expressiveness of Ray’s voice on songs like Waterloo Sunset over a precise, controlled backing. So why bother to release this LP?
SHAKE A TAIL FEATHER BABY (LP)—Geno Washington:
This is the third LP from Geno and The Ram Jam Band. The mixture is very much as before with two sides of songs from Arthur Conley, Eddie Floyd, and any other soul brother you can think of, given the Geno treatment. His band must be one of the most exciting in England, and kingpin Geno just radiates joy and exuberance with his powerful athletic voice above a solid beef backing—with some very tasteful piano as a contrast. Great music for a rave-up with infectious good spirits all the way. So on with those tail feathers, ladies, and shake the night away!
A DREAM FOR JULIE/PLEASE EXCUSE MY FACE—Kaleidoscope:
This is another good one from the West London progressives, Kaleidoscope. Above a buoyant rhythm, lead singer Peter Daltry puts tons of feeling into the odd, but evocative, lyrics about Julie, strawberry monkeys and life. Also very nice is the guitar work from Eddie Pumer, the co-writer of the song. Perhaps even better than the “A” side is Please Excuse My Face, a track from their LP. Again, lyrics which say something, and some beautiful, classical-style guitar. This is a group busting out all over with talent and originality. (Rick Sanders 20/01/68)
ROSECRANS BOULEVARD—Gordon Waller:
The tall, dark half of Peter and Gordon has made a beauty here. Fantastic lyrics about love/cars/Manhattan/Los Angeles sung intelligently and with a lot of feeling by Gordon are echoed by piano and twelve-string guitar. All in all, a very fascinating single. I hope it gets Gordon back into the charts at high speed.
YOU’RE NEVER GONNA GET MY LOVIN’—The Enchanted Forest:
Fine sentiments from The Enchanted Forest, a group I’ve not heard of before. It’s a fine sound and I think a lot of people are going to like it—a very full and intriguing sound in the same mould as Good Vibrations—only done by girls. At least I think they’re girls, but I’ve been wrong before and carry the marks to prove it. Lots of sighs and angelic harmonies, and although a certain DJ thinks they’re “atrocious,” I think they might have a hit on their hands.
LET THE HEARTACHES BEGIN (LP)—Long John Baldry:
No doubt about it now, the Long John Baldry transformation is complete. The smoothie dark brown cover marks the demise of LJB, bluesman extraordinary. He’s now a class singer with a huge following of all shapes and sizes after Heartaches and this LP should win him many more fans. It’s made up of a mixture of established songs—like a fantastic version of Stay With Me Baby and the old Ray Charles smash I Can’t Stop Loving You—and five newies from the composers of Let The Heartaches Begin, Tony Macaulay and John McLeod. All extremely well done. The backings are just right, and the Baldry voice every now and then betrays the great influence the old blues days have had. There’s more conviction and feeling from John than you’ll get from practically any of the balladeers of the current fashionable crowd. Long may he continue to turn out records like this.
YELLOW BRICK ROAD—Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band:
Everyone’s going around muttering that Captain Beefheart is one of the greatest things ever to hit pop. In the light of all this raving, Yellow Brick Road comes as something of a disappointment. It’s a fast-moving number with a fair bit of punch and a lovely intro—which I won’t tell you about, hear it for yourself —but the Magic Band do seem to be a little short on magic here. There’s some very nice guitar like a friendly hornet buzzing around looking for ‘a victim—but the Beefheart voice doesn’t come over too beefily. And there is a 5s. prize for the first reader to send me all the words, which are just a little too transcendental for Cloth Ears to catch. The other side, Abba Zaba, is considerably better.
BACK ON MY FEET AGAIN—The Foundations:
Here’s the follow up to the Foundations’ first big hit, the record that surprised all of us, Baby Now That I’ve Found You—and they’ve fallen into the trap of making it an identical twin to its illustrious predecessor. It’s a good enough song (yet another from Macaulay/McLeod) but the rhythm’s the same, the treatment’s the same, the sound’s the same—and this is rather sad because it’s bound to discourage a lot of people, and the Foundations are a good enough group to stay around for some time yet. (Rick Sanders 27/01/68)
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