Much of the history of 1960s psychedelic garage punks Orphan Egg is lost in the mists of time. Formed, according to some accounts in San Jose and others in Saratoga, what can be stated authoritatively is that, like so many other bands, they appeared as part of the hippie explosion of 1967, burned brightly but briefly and then disappeared, leaving only this 1968 self-titled album to testify to their existence. Unaccountably, a few of the album’s tracks resurfaced on the soundtrack to the classic Bruce Dern B-movie Cycle Savages the following year alongside music by likeminded groovemongers the Boston Tea Party, but effectively, this was it for the band, and they made their presence known with enthusiasm, if not authority. Short review: if you like the gritty, fuzzed-out Nuggets style of early garage psych perfected by the Seeds and their ilk, Orphan Egg is, partly at least, for you. If you like mid-‘60s British-invasion beat and a bit of blues too, then it’s wholly for you.
Essentially, the first 20 seconds of the first track, “Falling,” tells you all you need to know about the psychedelic side of Orphan Egg. Thick, heavy, fuzz-toned guitars, clattering funky caveman drumming and a vocal line with a self-consciously psychedelic, Eastern-tinged melody; all is exactly as it should be. But there’s more too; the throbbing bass, curiously understated organ and the subtle use of disorienting reverb on the vocals, especially in the quieter passages, the portentous but right-side-of-pretentious lyrics; pure 1968 bubble-gum psychedelic rock. Catchy and concise enough to avoid the boredom trap by a mile, but far out enough to confirm the band’s credentials as mind-melting sonic explorers, it’s the perfect compilation track.
A whole album of “Falling” and “Falling”-like material seems too good to be true, and indeed it is; instead there are other, slightly less effective but still very likeable sides to the band that make the album more varied, but less cohesive than it might have been. “That’s the Way Love Is” is pretty and has nice swirling organ and a romantic but effective string arrangement, but it’s far more Monkees than Seeds; a recommendation in itself, as long as you’re not looking for a mind-altering psych-scuzz odyssey. The psych stuff is better though, especially because when the occasion demands, as on “Mourning Electra” the band has an enviable lightness of touch. The song is unexpectedly sweet but dynamic too, a brisk trot through Byrdsian/Yardbirdsian psych-pop rather than the leaden dirge the title ominously suggests or promises, depending on your taste for such things.
A snotty, punked-up romp through the Everly Brothers’ “Bird Dog” restores some grit, but it sounds pure 1966 in comparison with “Falling” and the following “It’s Wrong” follows the pre-Summer-of-Love trend even more strongly. It’s very nice, Beatles-esque beat music with a subtly psychedelic twist – think “If I Needed Someone” – rather than primal sonic exploration, but it has a good tune and they sing it very nicely. The title “Ain’t That Lovin’ You Baby” is worryingly unpromising, but seems to be neither the Elvis or Jimmy Reed vehicle, but instead is a nicely funky blues rocker with a little bit of pleasant Zombies-like atmosphere.
Side two opens with more pop-ish material, “Look at Me” which is pleasant enough, but sunk by a vague melodic similarity to “I’m a Believer” in the verses – it has no chorus to speak of – that a spooky, reverby section doesn’t quite manage to dispel. Nice harpsichord-like tones though. A return to full-blooded psychedelic material lifts the album out of its pleasant rut considerably. The amusingly-titled “Deep in the Heart of Nebraska” has a funky-blues structure, but the double-tracked, echo-laden vocal and lyrics about crystal stairs, plus closing nod to “Purple Haze” let the listener know where the band’s intentions lay. The song also highlights one of the album’s less obvious strengths: Orphan Egg were good musicians, but not too good. That means that the guitar solos are melodic and to the point, the organ mainly provides texture and the band never indulges in interminable virtuoso wankery. Even the album’s longest track is under six minutes and is all the better for it – take for instance the pure 1964 Freddie and the Dreamers pop schmaltz of “Don’t Go to Him.” It’s pretty, I guess, but would even its greatest fan want more than two minutes and 11 seconds of it? Hopefully not.
The following “Circumstance” hardly sounds like the same band – wailing Electric Prunes psychedelic blues with a superbly hot guitar sound and a sneering garage-punk vocal and sonorous Beatles-esque harmony section, it’s an irresistible 1968 confection and is head-and-shoulders above the album’s more pop material. “Unusual State of Mind” promises more of the same, but it’s far tamer; up-tempo beat music with just a pinch of acid-rock atmosphere and sweet vocal harmonies. But it’s extremely pleasing, especially the understated slide guitar, even if it’s not especially adventurous. The album closes with its most epic – in length only – track, a creditable, early-Stones/Yardbirds style ramble through the venerable Muddy Waters/B.B. King classic “Rock Me Baby.” The band plays it well, stretching out with a slightly chaotic guitar freak-out that sticks with standard blues tones, rather than indulging in fuzz, echo or wah-wah, which might have been nice. All in all it’s a strong, but surprisingly traditional blues-rock finale to what is overall an enjoyable but slightly frustrating album.
Orphan Egg could clearly tackle the various prevailing rock music styles of 1963-‘8 well enough. No doubt they were stars in their local area and they seem like the exact kind of group to go down well – as they reputedly did – in Battle of the Bands type situations. They must have been a good night out at their local hangouts and it’s great that they got to make an album and even better than it’s still available. But Orphan Egg itself embodies the limitations that made them just another local band. They could play Top 40 material well enough, so well in fact that it’s hard to know where their own identity lies. Were they the snotty garage punks of “Bird Dog,” the frazzled, heavy freaks of “Falling,” the loveable choirboy pinups of “Don’t Go to Him” or the bad-boy blues band of “Rock Me Baby”? Well, all of them, clearly – and the variety is what makes Orphan Egg a fresh and likeable album, but it’s also what makes it a typical late-‘60s obscurity. Anyone exploring the discographies of artists they came across with a couple of feral Nuggets classics will know what to expect from Orphan Egg – flashes of majesty, a workmanlike willingness to play whatever people want to hear and an overflowing bucketload of period charm.
by Will Pinfold, February 27, 2023
Tracks
1. Falling - 3:40
2. That's The Way Love Is - 2:30
3. Mourning Electra - 2:16
4. Bird Dog (Boudleaux Bryant) - 2:45
5. It's Wrong - 2:30
6. Ain't That Lovin You Baby (Jimmy Reed) - 2:55
7. Look At Me - 2:50
8. Deep In The Heart Of Nebraska - 2:15
9. Don't Go To Him (Guy Hemric, Mirby, Jerry Styner) - 2:05
10.Circumstance - 2:50
11.Unusual State Of Mind - 1:40
12.Rock Me Baby (Joe Josea) - 5:50
13.We Have Already Died (Mike Stevens) - 2:33
14.Falling - 3:43
All songs by Jim Bate, George Brix, Pat Gallagher, Dave Monley, Barry Smith except where noted.
Bonus Tracks 13,14
Track 13 prefomed by The Boston Tea Party
The Orphan Egg
*Jim Bate - Vocals
*George Brix - Drums
*Pat Gallagher - Guitar, Vocals
*Dave Monley - Guitar, Harpsichord
*Barry Smith - Bass
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