Plain and Fancy: 07/01/25

Tuesday, July 1, 2025

Patto - Hold Your Fire (1971 uk, a driving fiesta of good-time bluesy-rock, 2010 japan SHM remster)

Patto’s second album is a bit of a nugget amongst Vertigo swirl collectors, for with its elaborate sectional “Consequences” styled fold-out cover, finding one in anything better than “slightly knackered” condition – that’s “VG+” to the unscrupulous seller – is nigh on impossible, and daftly expensive should you be lucky enough to chance upon one. The cover was to feature the band’s own sketches on the delicate design, each member putting hours into their artistic noodlings, only for designer Roger Dean to either lose or throw them away! The band were, shall we say, dischuffed!

Collector’s obsessing and cover art niceties aside, Patto managed to up the ante from their blistering debut to record an album that shows a bunch of musicians at the top of their game, with the intimate understanding of each other’s playing that can only come from years on the road together. Ollie Halsall turns in a staggering display of dexterity, adaptability, and an instinctive melodic and harmonic nous that at the time had his contemporaries stooping to pick up their mandibles from the floor whenever they witnessed the shy genius at work. Alvin Lee in particular, whose band Ten Years After the boys supported on tour, was a big fan.

The band has honed its chops considerably, and a track like Give It All Away sums them up neatly. Starting as an R’n’B belter replete with honky-tonk piano, it doesn’t take long before time signature changes that your standard blues-based rock band would not imagine incorporating give the song a careening quality as it charges along. Ollie answers Mike’s storytelling lyrics with some fine curtailed lyrical fills. Then, not long after two minutes in, the tune leaves the orbit of The Faces playing with jazz rhythms to fly off at an oblique angle on the back of Ollie’s short but mesmerising solo before returning to Earth with a maniacal grin plastered across its fizzog.

Air Raid Shelter is this album’s Money Bag, taken up a level or two. Ollie’s stellar “free jazz” playing is a given, but Admiral John Halsey’s drums in chattering conversation with Clive Griffiths’ highly expressive bass is worthy of a concentrated listen on their own. Fabulous stuff!

Having eulogised the rest of the band it would be remiss of me not to mention Mike Patto, who was a soulful and gravel-throated beaut who must have wowed the ladies in much the same way as Rod Stewart. He could write a good lyric too, often slightly world weary and including a healthy dose of cynicism. The coruscating and emotive The Man (from the first album), You, You Point Your Finger and Magic Door are slow R’n’B numbers easily as good as anything Rod The Mod or Paul Rodgers came up with in a similar tempo, and in addition Mike’s voice bears healthy comparison to those two.

Curiously, the mix used for track seven, Tell Me Where You’ve Been is not the final mix that ended up on the LP, and on subsequent reissues, including the superb Sense Of The Absurd collection from 1995. Sadly, no explanation is given as to why the original mix was not used. Perhaps it was no longer in a fit state, or had gone missing, but it would have been nice to know. The alternate take sees the second guitar track omitted, the vocals are more upfront, and it entirely omits Mike Patto’s cough at the start of the track. You may think that last omission a minor point, but it is little things like this that highlight the band’s sense of humour which was always on show. Fans, eh? They’ll notice any damn little thing!

While Hold Your Fire is a triumph of confident musicianship and would turn out to be Patto’s best album, for purely sentimental reasons the debut will always hold pride of place in my heart.

Once the fans have got over the “wrong” mix being used for track seven, I’m sure all will be forgiven by the presence of an entire disc of bonus cuts from BBC radio concerts and sessions. Here, those of us who would have been way too young, or not even born when Patto were a live fixture in sticky-floored fleapits the length and breadth of Britain get some sense of what a thrilling proposition Patto were live on stage.

The addition of Bernie Holland’s understated second guitar allows Ollie Halsall the freedom to extemporise to his heart’s content. On the other side of the coin, on a thrilling version of Government Man from an In Concert broadcast, the precise melody lines and unobvious chord sequences of the enmeshed dual guitars and the tight as a nut rhythm section, concluding with Ollie delivering the soulful vibes lines that bring the song to an end serves to underline what consummate players they all were.

Despite backing from John Peel in particular, and from other radio DJs with taste, both albums sold poorly. Being on Vertigo can’t have helped, as the Philips hip subsidiary was a label notorious for its promotion budget, which varied from minuscule to non-existent, unless you were Black Sabbath. Subsequently signing with Island, Patto released one more album, recorded another that was released posthumously some 20 years later, incidentally both due for imminent re-release on Esoteric. The band eventually folded in 1973, criminally ignored by the record buying public. Let’s hope these re-releases bring this wonderful music to a few new ears.

by Roger Trenwith, 21 May 2017