Bringing obscure songs from the 1970s such as deep album cuts, underrated cover songs and forgotten singles back on this blog. The 70s was a great time for music, possibly the best and the most diverse; that some gems that need to be rediscovered
Defined by, famous session guitarist, Wah Wah Watson's Incredible Guitar fills, I was inspired to write my first live post on this 1978 performance of the soul standard, Quiet Storm; a live post, as in a review of a live rendition as opposed to writing this live because who would want to follow that?
The familiar jaunty walking bass line comes bounding in to the whoops and hollers of an excited audience while Wah Wah Watson's heavily reverbed slide guitar chirps away like a bird; Congas and Smokey's heavenly tenor add a dusky humid feel to the verses. A drawling blues figure lurks in the background, it's sacharine, lilting and thin tone reminds me of the one that opens Band on the Run by Wings, while dry, mellifluous flute swirls in; meanwhile Smokey's voice carries it's own inbuilt cascading filter; self produced of course😉. While the splintering guitar chinks of Watson are add a modern sheen as the lyrics of 'inner circuits' sound more dated, but those skewering slides down the neck are still so fresh. At the 3 minute mark a very metallic steel drum sounding organ punches in and flutters like the flute before Sonny Burke is announced on the keyboards by Smokey to the audience and starts soloing in an undefinable tone, playing a heavily delayed and echoey wrinkly clavinet that chimes in slinky tripled reverbs. Then Wah Wah Watson tosses out a few waka waka 'cracks' like their frisbies as a jazz flute soloes out of control like an exotic bird, whistling away before the performance sought've just ends there amongst the clapping for the excellent flute solo.
This track, Millionaire's Waltz, is a perfect union of Freddie Mercury's undulating Vaudeville music theatre glam rock, their controlled expulsions of their vocal harmonies and Brian May' sweet, glowing guitar fills. May's Red Special has a gorgeously juicy yet remarkably clear tone; it's homemade charm means it practically clicks and clacks under the tough legato play of May and his robust digits; the manual labour he uses to wring out every lick on his cheap rig is commendable considering he still uses the same guitar forty years on and counting! You virtually hear him crank the guitar neck with each bend, wielding away his lightsabre tone in and out of Mercury's feather light piano, velvety vocals and the cooing harmonies to create a tough soft rock ballast that defines terms like soft rock or power balladry.
The Millionaire's Waltz is built around a familiar Queen technique of using hard rock instrumentation to play older styles of music from 'court of the king' pan flute music to olde English maypole folk. The orchestrated melodies re-inacted with such a bracing, tactile and haptic electric guitar is one of their best traits displaying their unique take on Prog rock's established love of classical music forms. This starts with sturdy piano chords, noodle-ey bass machinations and Freddie's big wide voice with fairy voiced Roger Taylor's little harmonies. Deacon' bass notes gurgle and bubble in little up and down patterns before, while Freddie and the dreamers voices caress and soar all at once. But it's Brian May's additions that make it; from the walking guitar line at 2 minutes 30 where he turns the notch up into a powered horror film motif to his twiddling guitar waltz at the three minute mark complete with triangle and gong pinging and piano continuing to plink away; the mix of his overdriven sound and more traditional acoustic percussion backing him up his superb mix of old and new, natural and synthetic as the guitar's range stay central while the piano and drums splash out all over with plenty of air to ring out.
I particularly love how May clenches, clangs the tough piano strings of his franken-guitar, every tweak unfurled in clear sunburst sustains; it's so electronic, analogue in it's texture full of diodes, currants and signals created by wiring and metal over the strings and ivory of the other instruments. His treacly guitar parts sway, ballet and twirl around in a tandem with Mercury's stomping piano and Taylor's air horn vocals; this 'dance' mixing Elizabethan grace and whimsy to art rock arrangement of plonking piano, twinkling triangles, hysterical falsetto harmonies blasting off and Brain May's guitar zapping away. The highlight has got to be the weeping guitar figure at 3.50 which would return at the end of Bohemian Rhapsody too, the glowing sustain practically dripping before revving back up into more fuzzed-out rhythm guitar and a sea of fluffy, sped up guitars gang up on us for one last run through of Freddie's melody.
The first use of the Jefferson Starship moniker was in 1970 for a side project from the very much active Jefferson Airplane; credited to Paul Kantner and the Jefferson Starship, the project was a concept album named Blows Against the Empire that would even go onto win a Hugo award for Sci-Fi. The album like David Crosby's first solo album were recorded at the same time and in the same studio and would feature a large ensemble of artists cross pollinated from different SF bands workin on this and the Crosby project with no real connection to the Jefferson Starship's official debut four years later; only Paul Kantner, Grace Slick and David Freiberg would remain to for the Starship's debut.
Mau Mau (Amerikon) is a Cream SWABLR sounding rave blues with Dylanesque accents and town cryer vocals and an archaic centuries old acapella intro; while it owes a debt to the noise rock of bands like Velvet Underground, The Seeds, The Sonics etc, by this point bands like Zeppelin and the Stooges had already moved passed that beat group style of garage rock to heavier fare. The Jerry Garcia banjo tune The Baby Tree is the same Pete Seeger working class folk style of song, stickin out like a sore thumb on this album due to it's stripped sensibility. The next track Let's Go Together could easily be the most generic Hippy tune of all as they wail defiantly about going to a starship 'right now' as they 'wave goodbye to America', sought've fits with the Post Trump era sentiments; possibly a track that could be in use in a couple weeks for the next election.
A Child is Coming is Sunshine Pop a year after it went out of fashion, but still a nice detraction if a little lacking in creativity as the vocals continue to prattle on with this empty rhetoric; none of the bite of later social conscious hip hop for example, just more of a mix of fantasy with some clumsy attempt at real world relevance. The call and response between Kantner and Slick in the middle is at first dramatic but soon goes on too long and repetitive and you start to question is it really 'gettin better' as they repeatedly claim? The ramping up tension of the rootsy strumming, piano scale leads to a great interjection of searing, whining lead guitar that feedbacks in and out of your left channel. However, it just keeps going till the end dominating the six-minute tune with the hopeful lyrics falling flat, much in the same way that the progression never really takes off. After a while the track just sought've stayed put never built to a climax in the way they would do so expertly on Epic 38 on Grace's solo album (see prior post).
Sunrise is an FX extravaganza as a droning electric guitar is fed back itself in big harmonic walls of dissonance, while Slick cleverly uses a Middle Eastern style of throat singing where she pushes her voice to it's limits, using the slightest twitches of her vocal cords to create skipping stone series of natural vibrato and breaks that only instruments and the most talented Berber singers usually achieve. Layers of overdriven guitar ring out in thunderous clouds of feedback; bassist Jack Cassady of the Airplane uses a stringed bow to drawl, scissor and dither over the bridge of his bass guitar (ala Jimmy Page), this allows a rumbling, synthetic orchestra whilst remaining a shape shifting monster of fuzzed out notes; abruptly able to change pitch and cutoff girth.
Hijack starts off sounding almost exactly like Friends by Led Zeppelin with it's jumpy acoustic hammer on eastern riff and tabla; the vocals, however, remind me of the Byrds and as always feature Grace sticking out from the background as if kept to the back of the studio due to her piercing tone always poking through. In Hijack, Kantner claims the Starship will start building in 1980 and be ready by 1990; more like built in 74 and ready by 84 for their big chart-topping successes with the shortened Mickey Thomas line-up. The change of tempo and a new acoustic riff at the 3-minute 20 mark is gloriously preceded by a little count off keeping a neat live performance feel that is unless there are overdubs and fixes, which I'm sure there are as these are polished performances and their live shows never matched their studio craft. Two minutes later and a Gypsy lyric and a funky rock strum enter and we get treated to some modal soloing before a laser beam of crackly electric distortion segues and seethes in a raging wah wah; Star Wars laser gun sound effects also ping off. The mundane piano and mandolin like acoustic slowly fade the tune out reminding me for some reason of the Cosmic Celtic bluegrass amalgamation of The Eagles' Journey of the Sorcerer; which like my earlier Star Wars reference was still several years off by this point.
The 37 second snippet Home packs a lot in; as tinny, canned cymbals clang before an oscillating signal enters and the tape is sped up to astronomical high pitch as if it's being rewound. Then follows, more blotches of 'cigarette burn' laser beams, a whirring wall of noise; which I believe is just a series of takes of distorted electric guitar with a tubular bell hammered sparsely for ambience, then this recording is sped, slowed and panned off into atmospheric static white noise that undulates like the ocean....Anyhoo, monk chanting finish the dirge Home and an acoustic guitar strums along joyfully.. a cutting pedal steel guitar peers in and out in crystal teardrop notes and a chorus finally returns as we realise, we are well into the next track; Have You Seen the Stars Tonite?
A bicycle bell rings in childish jingles, and a strange yet smooth coagulating distortion wriggles every now n' then, potentially produced by an electric reverbed guitar amp or something else..like a synth. XM is even more wild, starting with World War 2 era explosions and turbine sounds before some wobbling signals and radiator like buzz takeover before being washed away by ear caressing and very modern sounding phased 'whooshes'.
Industrial sounds of hydraulics, wind, ghostly theremin, white noise and many clipped sound crashes are weaved as if by a studio console, mixing desk or a synthesizer. Next song, Starship, drifts in with a happy piano progression, a nice little bass line, acoustic strum and group vocals espousing their hippi credentials, but it does contain a great line about 'an acid fever' that swamps the mind and gets in the way of the human experience, preventing you from connecting with others; it's a nice albeit brief bit of introspection on a very big concept album full of 'big picture' statements and counter cultural messages. But of course, it's Jerry Garcia with his lightning rod guitar solo that really stands out, he was often the cameo appearance who stole the limelight; as we all remember his immortal pedal steel on Crosby Stills and Nash' Teach Your Children.
Manhole is the first solo album by Grace Slick, and yes that's the title, it was released just before the rise of the Jefferson Starship, their 70s incarnation of their 60s band Jefferson Airplane. Album opener Jay starts with a eaceful intersecting array of acoustic guitar picking while Slick sings softly in mock Spanish, the panning and subtle echo work give off an quietly intxicating heat as her dulcet vocal overdubs caress the inner ear.
Theme from the the movie "Manhole" is fantastic too starting with a 70s piano soft rock sound, coursing vocal wails, slowly building dynamics, lead guitar working it's way to the fore til it's in full solo and best of all a downbeat piano progression. Another flamenco passage and more Spanish sung lyrics enter and while it all is pleasant, it feels very inauthentic but the song soon moves on into a big orchestra section where Slick wails in her Plant-esque style full of warbling tonsils, timpanis bang, cellos bray and strings scorch. Before we know it we're in a delightful Andalusian mandolin part, there is a long note from Slick which she always could pull off easily, then some trebly bass stumbles and plod along while triumphant horns and graceful strings intertwine for the mian body of the song as she sings abotu Spanish Wind. The best part is an electric guitar playing in a mandolin style; very tactile, strumming near the bridge fo the gutiar in a high pitched register with lightning quick abrasiveness and crystal clear timbre. The ending captures some top notch power balladry as Slick sings with bracing urgency about the state of affairs as the majestic full orchestra reigns down and the lead gutiar solos away. The coda is a return to the strident piano of the start with some banjo proving you can throw as many ideas as you like to a song if it sticks its fine otherwise it ends up a hot mess, I'm not sure how to evaluate this 15 minute suite; it was a soundtrack to a movie that never came about, much like this song, it's unfulfilled.
¿Come Again? Toucan starts with a damn loud mock Arriba! before we get some fluid electric flamenco laden 70s soft rock along the lines of Carole King or Stevie Nicks in it's mellow piano led arrangement and bewitched romantic vocals. It's Only Music is David Freiberg's moment to shine, a lot of this album was backed by the Jefferson Starship with Craig Chaquico providing all those lovely flamenco guitar. Freiberg's poppy folk rock high tenor and the melodic chords make this Dylanesque tune stand out as a flavourful solo spills out all over the track. The deep rumbling bass synthesizer always a presence waiting to drag out the tension appears on this track as does some Byrds/Poco sounding backing vocals on this ultimately a hybrid of 70s countrified soft rock and 60s psych folk pop. Grace returns on Better Lying Down a poor honky tonk blues injection with zero charisma just riding along with some very on the nose lyrics and no fun; Slick's wailing and tenacious delivery don't meld with fun lovin rock n roll.
The closer Epic(#38) starts with some startling duets of electric guitar/fuzz synth playing off strings butting in before a very Celtic strings drive this rocker; we get a melange of the dithering strings quivering in full Irish dance mode, 60s hippie rootsy harmonies and marching band triplet rolls. There is a spacey easy listening chorus, marked by more evergreen strings and little more electric mandolin strumming before a mid section where otherworldly glass harmonica (that thing with the glasses half full of water and licking the rim of the glass for high pitched wails otherwise impossible on traditional instruments). It's hypnotic as the hippy sounds continue, sweet flamenco jazz guitar, haunting picked notes, cymbals crackle, then we even get treated to some trumpets pipping up as the folky chorus continues. Finally it all builds to a magnificent Wagnerian cello riff that is joined one by one by the vocals, a variety of percussion, electronic synth and finally Chaquico's guitar who had been soloing separately this whole time creating an Epic climax to the album; now you understand it's name of not the #38 part
Paul Kantner, Grace Slick, and David Freiberg collaborated on this pre-Jefferson Starship album called Baron von Tollbooth & the Chrome Nun; apparently Freiberg doesn't get a nickname. Ballad of the Chrome nun is a Quiksilver/Heart/Santana style of mystic tinged Latin blues rocker featuring Craig Chaquico' fluid wah wah, Fat is a mesmerising vocal performance and studio production as Grace Slick's witchy vocal slice and cut in sharply delivered sputters whilst being multi-tracked and given a slight phasing for a sky scraping tone; the multi-chorused, delayed country choral vocals, mellotron backing distantly make this a incandescent gem I love. Freiberg's Flowers of the Night is the typical SF sound of these artists as blues guitar and Hippy rousing folk rock mix with some strident harmonies and mellotron. Walkin is a delightful stretch of country rock as a truly ethereal violin comes across as a pop instrument while the banjo laced verses are an effective foundation for the group's melodic Hippy folk rock as the harmonies are as freewheeling as the country guitar and undulating tempo. Your Mind Has Left your Body begins with overdriven guitar and mournful pedal steel slowly waltzing with some piano turns, but the 'Riders of the Rainbow' mumbo jumbo lyrics and talk of "kissing the nearest sun" with such sobriety displays the worst of the Hippy music scene; though Slick's unchained vocals swaying and getting worked up with the mellotron, some cyborg synthesizer and Chaquico's syrupy guitar notes is fabulous.
Across the Board is another mellotron and driven tune with Grace up front with more countrified rhythms and thankfully less Hippy sentiments but more Female empowerment than airy-fairy, Flower Power astrology, some of the raw roars from Slick are priceless even if the song is a little explicit. Help Free Lament returns to dated 60s revolutionary rock over the better country mainstream rock of the other half of this album with the incredible high sandpaper coarse, sunshine pop harmony texture the only saving grace. White Boy has some mechanical guitar brooding, African drum work, faded backing vocals and some well executed suspense in a dark rock atmosphere while the medieval harmonies keep things in line with the mood; the ending warped guitar toque scrapes and screams are so Martian in their blistering tone. The darkness pervades the soulful Fishman, which while reminds me of Big Brother and Holding Company, the dripping wah wah guitar that emulates a Moog or Electric Sitar at times has the smooth squelch of a bullfrog, though the song practically peters out without going anywhere. A gong predictably kicks of Sketches of China but it soon becomes another hippy folk sing-a-long with pretty shallow messages that sound meaningful and thoughtful till they repeat it a hundred times over the course of the song.
Paul Kantner and Grace Slick' forerunner to the Jefferson Starship starts with Silver Spoon, where Spanish castanets rattle but Slicks' modal wailing owes more to the East, as the song heads into a piano led verse its unmistakable as she sings about picking up the food by hand over a silver spoon; the way food has been traditionally eaten since start of civilisation in Asia and the middle east. We're not even a full minute into the album and Slick begins to show off her powerful vibrato warbler as she did in White Rabbit's epic climax. Papa John Creach' electric violin screeches and dazzles in shrieking fills over guitar feedback and a repeating piano note. The violin in its thin creaky tone is pushed to the max with octave jumping slides while the distorted guitar drones aimlessly in sparse coils to merely colour the Elton John-esque ballad. We get short snippet of a folk rocker called Diana Part 1 that segues into the title track; an ecological and very hippie-esque ode with swirling flute and aggressive muted horns pipping up and butting in, Kantner voice clearly pales in comparison to his partner Slick's, though it does work on Diana Pt 1. The raga tinged blues slide licks and Spaghetti western operatic backing vocals live up to its title and the terribly photoshopped cover image of a baby held out from the sparkling crimson waves as a half Jaffa sun dips into the horizon.
Sound engineer Phil Sawyer takes a track all for himself, the eerie haunting ghost track called Titanic which mixes sound effects of all kinds reminding me of Pink Floyd's Echoes middle section. In the palette are an oscillating pulse running through the whole thing as rushing waves break, foghorns blare ominously, ship' tackle crackle, a siren cries and whines while a steady wall of sound and volume collide as sound collages drum up the intensity.
Look at the Wood is a silly bluegrass ode to a carpenter with a heavy guitar solo and acoustic hammer on chord progression rolling on. When I was a Boy I Watched the Wolves..no that's not a personal statement but the next song title, here mandolin and more raging guitar feedback ping and pong with a knotty acoustic picked rhythm line. Slick and Kantner go back to those ill advised Appalachian two part harmonies which don't mix with their cringey Utopian lyrics. Again Kantners' dour folk rock vocal shouldn't be given such prominence as its Slick' haughty, sonorous voice that is much stronger and fits the dramatictrack where rough piano keys are plonked and guitar notes struck.
Million is a weak plea to reignite the San Francisco commune-ity for one last chance at a peaceful world as the 60s dream dies. A Moog warping underneath and country picking creeps up in the intro and finale. There is of course more thundering piano keys and Kantner dominated droning harmonies while a teenage Craig Chaquico again plays like his life depends on it; the middle section follows a chord progression very similar to Sultans of Swing...just an observation.
The next is a sweet tune named after Paul and Grace' child China who appears as the baby on the album cover with one hand being Grace and one hand by Paul it's a beautiful image and the rousing march carries a Hey Jude or Aretha Franklin styled gospel structure. While Earth Mother is another hippie bluegrass picker about the joys of parenthood, Diana Pt 2 continues the 'do-right' hippy "goody two shoes" preaching and more catty Moog notes whine off like the lyrics into nothing. Universal Copernican Mumbles is what the title suggests, as the second instrumental of the album we are treated to watery synth oscillations over a standard jazz piano, as the tension racks up and Kantner employs some Pink Floyd vocals that ping off each other with their dark intoning half-speak like the British band were famous for.
The closing track to this mixed album and mixed collaboration doesn't at first seem to feature Grace at all, aside form the first few tracks this is a Paul Kantner solo album and not in a good way, lacking the electricity Slick's voice would bring if given the spotlight and freedom to soar. A joyous piano and more rigid folk humming vocals from Kantner espouses some cosmic lyrics as if birthing Starship right then and there; the song is basically a longwinded jazz blues guitar jam...though the piano part in the middle does sound an awful lot like the melody to I Fought the Law and the Law Won.. again just an observation;)
This closing track to the towering Exile on Main Street album is probably one of the better-known forgotten gems (if that makes any sense?) when it was used as the title for a Rolling Stones concert film in the 2000s; but it deserves more appreciation for its incredible arrangement and production. Exile is rightly considered as the peak of the Stones' discography, it acts as the ultimate British tribute to Americana from the blues to honky tonk to rock n roll, gospel soul, country and rockabilly and more in all their guises and sub genres. There remains a strong traditionalism to the song writing, while the DIY basement recording setup of Chateaux Nellcôte also helps. It is a bit of a mystery how a bunch of middle-class rock stars from the South of England with their entourage of famous actors and models in tow could create an album of working-class roots music in a luxurious South of France retreat; definitely no authenticity and stacked with appropriation, but still rustic and faithful set of standards..actually songs that would become standards.
So, it starts with an echoplex guitar jangle, the harmonics ricocheting off the studio baffles, the volume bumped up as the chamber reverb skitters away. This sound of the rattling of the electronic components of the echoplex will return and seep in and out of the song at certain points as if to retain an acoustic ambience. The crunchy interior of the analogue echo unit and the studio confines are almost tangible; as the scurrying clicks of the reverb signal flap away our ears can almost paint an image of how small the room is in the way sonar is used to create a visualisation of the interior of, say, a cave. The locust sounding crackles get closer than further away establishing a sonic landscape not fully explored by this song but creates an eardrum gripping intro.
The song proper then begins as a couple big piano notes punch in with Mick Jagger's tired vocal in tow, as if still feeling the effects from the night before. The lyrics, the lonely chords and vocal place us squarely in a lonely hotel room (Room 1009 by the way), Jagger seemingly describes a fictitious account of stumbling across an OD victim. The watery organ drenches the track like a flood, every element reverberates to some degree, even the aforementioned 'locusts' reverb clicks scatter as we enter turn it up for the evangelical gospel chorus. It's a positive, beaming lyric and the cold confessional verses solidify the song's going to church feel but also grimy, harsh reality of coming back down off a drug; the song and life in general is full of slowdowns and fast highs.
The angelic backing ooh's are treated with a Hammond Leslie Amp, almost as if the echo is slowly infecting all the elements of this song, it completely metamorphosizes the backing vocals from their original form. The Leslie amp drowns the choral vocals in a sudsy distortion, so heavy is the warping of this it practically mutates the rich, human voices into a synthetic instrument that can be moulded and shapeshift like a synthesizer. This strange sound is most pronounced at around the three-minute mark, where during the middle eight, the soupy organ is played with a lot of resonance and the reverb filter cranked up to create a high tactile riddling that sounds like a Xylophone.
The slide guitar licks are restrained and the upbeat piano of the chorus are powerfully feel good in their simplicity; it all brings to mind the other epic closer in their discography; You Can't Always Get What You Want. But the organ and reverb machinations are what set this apart from your typical rock ballad; this is an immersive experience on a surround sound level.
The ending is a return to the gospel vocals and the xylophone sounding organ part of the middle eight, rapidly panning and disappearing down the sink hole like a stream of rainwater down a gutter after the deluge has ended. The cleansing effect of it is apparent as the waves of those 'organ voices' briefly submerge your earphones under the lapping waters before your head re-emerges bobbing up again; it's astounding how the Stones could blend choir vocals, organ and an amp into a representation of the sea and the tides.
It's so affecting, it feels the song has been one big ol sobbing section, wringing out all the pain, the ending the perfect feeling of drained as the 'river of tears' , represented by the combined vocals/organ, wash away.
Gypsy Lights lacks the mixing and unique accents of the playing in the say their 1972 album opener, Hope, Cowboy on the Run is a lilting cowboy ballad with magnificent strings and tasteful piano playing. Flames is an ill-advised attempt at merging then psych-folk rock base with some level of funk, but the next song is the I Heard You Singin with its Dylanesque and melodic Springsteen ride along feel. The Letter is very atmospheric country rock with incandescent singin that sounds like a rip off of Gram Parsons A Song for You..shame. The hyperspace lap steel twine that spaces in and out in wah wah fashion but the rave up ending, as the notes get increasingly higher pitched as we fade out is excellent as is the honky tonk rhythms that enter in the second half of the song. They Don't Know is basically a spindly pull off acoustic and guitar riff before devolving into a pretty solid country funk number with awesome backing vocal melody interplay and a wild synth solo, the kind you'd hear in the Bee Gees live show, possibly an influence as the chords sometimes remind me of Throw a Penny; the warbling synth solo at the end is palatial and melancholic in it's warped meander. Witch's Moon is more Santana-esque as bold twilight acoustics and defined blues guitar noodle and mingle and finally Bittersweet Love is a funk rocker with The Who styled power chord breaks, and frenzied drumming while the chorus is more country and has an overall Eagles sound.
The Electric Light Orchestra started off in 1971 as a artsy prog offshoot of The Move, then Brummie's biggest group, fronted by the distinctive cat scratch vocals of Roy Wood. But the baton would be passed to Jeff Lyne and his Beatles-esque disco pop of the mid to late 70s built more on pop rock and vacuum packed falsetto. The song most remember from this transitory period of the band is the mammoth 10538 Overture.
Its built around an endless stream of fuzz guitar power chords trickling down the centre of the mix; attacked on both sides by armies of brass , like French horns and strings, like cellos. Big Walrus like brays of cello stride in the fills like meat on a carcass. Jeff Lynns' crackly vocal is almost tinfoil thin but pierces through the densest of mixes due to its sandpaper texture so fine; which was necessary for a band like ELO. His voice and monolithic power chords drone off in a malevolent way while the eerie orchestrations sweep in and creep you out in elephantine howls. French horns march in step, get all puffed up and then blow hard in their blustery little parts, bolstering the song along. The rustic cellos have a hollow creak apparent in every roll , while Lynne and the guitars plough through continuously like the structure of the System. There is a Logan's' Run like momentum to the track, perfect for a man running from a totalitarian authority in dystopian city or a young man with the song playing as he exercises..like me.
They never perfected their dynamic between electric rock and acoustic orchestra as they did on this inaugural track, ironically everything after wasn't as successful; their later career would see the band flit from keyboard heavy pop arrangements faintly coloured by strings to old fashioned rock n roll. The wall of sound production creates a sizzling, frizzy hissy mix as the distorted array of electric and acoustic instruments do battle. The stabbing cellos squeak away as electric strings are plucked in digitised ripples, slashing across the mix, gouging huge chunks out the basic tracks with their raga pitched bellows. The invention of this towering masterpiece is up there with stately prog rock like Kashmir by Led Zeppelin, cleverly blending seamlessly a rock rhythm section with a string and horn section. There is a stature and innate power to this song from the tumbling arpeggios to the coruscating cellos and everything in between, not too dissimilar from the experimental noise of Bowie's Heroes.
Tavares 1974 debut Check It Out is aptly named for any debut, but in a crowded marketplace of soft ballad groups they didn't bring anything new to the genre over more creative arrangements by The Temprees and Black Ivory. It's electric sitar flecked blues arrangements, opening track If That's the Way You Want It displays their tough youthful vocals, but often songs like Thats The Sound That Lonely Makes sound like the Spinners with a bit more funk. The title track is languid with no groove which is made up for on the very next track; the O Jays discofied sound of Wish You Were With Me Mary. I'll Never Say Never Again points to their future covering blue eyed soul artists like the Bee Gees and Hall and Oates with more smoothness and authenticity. The soldier drums of epic ballad Little Girl promises a lot of talent in the astonishing vocal prowess but the lyrics and arrangements still don't crackle like with other artists of the time; they needed their own style badly. The adaption of Ring-a-roses for the opening of the sly tune Mama's Little Girl is their most memorable, the vocals still have a nice sound but they need more instrumental ingenuity like that short nursery rhyme opening that repeats at the end.
One of the songs that represents the 'sheer' power of Queen' mid 70s heavy Glam Prog phase, where vocal harmonies would blare out heavier than the guitar and drums put together; they were curious act when all the bands bombarded you with riffs and atom splitting drums Queen hit you with heavy stacks of powerful vocals, shrill and overdubbed to the Nth degree so they made up each note of a chord in all three octaves so they were as full as an open major chord and hammered out in spurts like a guitar strike or hit of a drum.
The shining majestic example is this Clash of the Titans sounding track with it's 'swords n sandals' mythological grandeur summing up the pomp of their first phase, trading in imagery concerning ogre battles and rampaging like Vikings and calling to the heavens. The song suddenly leaps to life with an abrupt start of Roger Taylor's shockingly high vocals; a siren like wail that would make peak Ian Gillan sound like a foghorn in comparison, his super clear tone and the delivery sounding like he is in hysterics, screaming, not to mention the glissando piano runs conjure a Phantom of the Opera familiarity. Soon the familiar Queen sound of multitracked vocals and guitars swirl around us before scorching declaration of 'Leave it in the Lap..OF THE GODS!' is fired out by the group like a cannon and is playfully panned in and out of the right and left earphones to truly leave your ear drums ringing.
Now enters Freddie's vocal under a lisping, heavily slurred croon that has been slowed down by the varispeed function on a tape machine lit is so sludgy you imagine his vocals emanating from a tar pit. The velvet vocals of Freddie are sung very deep on the verses already but along with the tape speed appear to be draped in some layer of distortion, it affects other elements too such Roger's cymbal and gong parts seem to also have been treated, he sounds like he is hitting them with brushes but with some flanging that drags out the ambience and echo into phased 'whooshes' that seem to reverse echo the sound and have very long decays to add to this muddy distorted mix.
The barrelling double bass drum rattles us into the chorus; Brian May's pinched harmonics sound like a sweet synthesizer while their surging harmonies soothe and comfort in their soft flutter but with a resounding defiance like Knights of the Order, fitting isn't it? But it's Roger's soul rending cries over and over in melodic loops through all the other cascading elements that touches a raw point inside of me it's anguish, happiness and a whole waterfall of emotions pouring out of him behind that big drum set. What's remarkable about this track is the contrasts from Mercury's dappled delivery, his timbre blends seamlessly into the smooth flanging almost drowning in it's murky, depth while Roger's spectacular melodious wail, so pinched and powerful it blares out like an air horn.
The Quiksilver Messenger Service's sixth album starts off with a stunning dual guitar harmony that is so fresh while the vocals are Dylanesque and heavily reference the mid 60s anthem Eve of Destruction but reversing it with a positive message. The guitar lines though are so rockin yet sweet in their clean sustain, I Found Love starts with a funky drum break ripe for hip hop sampling and some fantastic guitar and piano chops; free flowing bursts of juicy tangled guitar wails over boogie woogie piano notes and under serene Seals and Crofts style harmonies. Song for Frisco is a distant chamber reverbed tune that continues the phenomenal guitar shredding,
While Rebel is the most memorable tune with sharp scream sound effects, an outlaw tale set to ragged vocals and acoustic guitars and some delayed backing vocal echoes..vocelechoes, the formidable fuzz guitar in the distance and more crazy yelping and yahooing from some unhinged cowboys. Fire Brothers follows on with it's dramatic mix of ghostly layers of piano playing single notes while another plays a complex run of notes up and down a scale while the Freieberg's heavy vocal also is back echoed to ping back and forth just like the up and down repeats of the piano like an endless loop as he journey further into insanity on this trippy yet restrained record. To complete this trilogy of mind-altering echo driven Folk Rock songs is Out of my Mind with some galloping bass and machine gun tambourine and astral acoustic guitar chords recorded so close to the mic each fifth rings out wide in the earphones. Play My Guitar is just generic blues wailing and dated talk like 'diggin you' but the excellent flawless mixing and playing is still present if none of the fresh melodies of other tracks.
The Truth features a shapeshifting wah wah distorted guitar that wraps around the acoustic beats, it's clangy and still very 60s sounding but with 70s sonics, pretty much how the album feels as the flower power chorus has that bright yet sleepy yearning feel of the hippie era. Don't Cry My Lady Love has a great countrified pop feel with a downhome bop, Southern clipped accents and happy go lucky acoustic strumming, it's a shame the melancholic vocals and deep echo and piano track swamp the potential mainstream appeal but remains as melodic and fresh as this band would possess across their early 70s output. The ghostly honky tonk piano solo is pure elegiac beauty like an old timey film or sepia toned nostalgia.
