McChurch Soundroom is a Swiss krautrock band formed in Basel Switzerland near the German border. The band was fronted by the Italian-Swiss multi-instrumentalist Sandy Chiesa. All together the band consisted 5 members. Heiner Althaus (guitar), Alan Veltin (organ, piano, vocals), Noby Jud (drums, percussion), Kurt Hafen (bass) and Sandy Chiesa (vocals, flute and acoustic guitar).
Soundroom's first and only album was produced by Conny Plank. The music is heavy krautrock with jazz, fusion, progressive and psychedelic elements. The songs are well arranged and the musicianship is absolutely amazing!!
The album does have a rather rough, unpolished production, starts off acoustic and sounds a whole lot like it came right off Stand Up, right down to vocals that sounds just like Ian Anderson. As the song progresses, the music turns to electric guitar and Hammond organ with bluesy undertones, and progressive passages that oddly sound like they belong on a Yes album, then there's a totally killer jam I wished was much longer, then it goes back to the acoustic beginning.
The next cut, "Dream of a Drummer" is an instrumental, guitar-oriented piece that would have done much better if it wasn't for that useless drum solo. That's the only weak spot on the album, by the way. "Time is Flying" is more of the same great bluesy prog rock sound.
The next song, "What Are You Doin'" is much in the same vein as the previous cut, but I really can't stomach the preachy, anti-drug message in the lyrics, this band totally predates Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No" by a full decade. That's plain silly, because people in to that kind of music at the time were likely lighting up the bong every now and then. The album ends with a two part instrumental called "Trouble" which is basically a jam, played in a rather jazzy manner with flute and Hammond organ dominating.
Unsurprisingly, the LP is quite rare and difficult to find (one online dealer was selling it for $200).The cover to the album is way cool, which is a picture of a skull all covered in dripping candle wax, which also clues you in on the underground nature of the album.
Aside from jettisoning some increasingly archaic psychedelic tendencies (and welcoming second guitarist Bugs Henderson to the fold), Nitzinger's rather arrogantly named sophomore outing, One Foot in History, pretty much picked up right where the Texan band's critically lauded first album had left off. Which is to say that it too boasted an eclectic batch of songs whose only common denominator was orbiting Planet Southern Rock in some capacity, at a time when the genre was approaching its summer solstice, thanks to the tenacity of its star-crossed founding fathers, the Allman Brothers Band, and their fast-rising heirs apparent, Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Among Nitzinger's novel stylistic diversions on One Foot in History were the mellifluous saxophone and orchestrated string backdrops added to the title track and the imperial, Cream-like "Uncle John"; the full-blown jazz breakdown anchoring the Allmans-esque "Motherload"; and, on a negative note, the misplaced, easy listening schmaltz of "Driftwood." Yet heavy Southern rockers were also available in droves, with clear standouts including the barroom brawler "The Cripple Gnat Bounce" (whatever that means!); the driving "Let the Living Grow" (clearly inspired by Humble Pie's barnburning cover of "I Don't Need No Doctor"); and the all-time classic "Earth Eater," which contrasted a pummeling main riff against an amazing melodic hook, the likes of which seems to have cropped up in many an Aerosmith song over the ensuing years.
In fact, were it not for the aforementioned "Driftwood" and a pair of rather average rockers in "Take a Picture" and "God Bless the Pervert" (hmmm...funny, but no "Louisiana Cockfight," that one), One Foot in History might have turned out as impressive and enduring as its predecessor. In the end, it was close enough to give no indication of the troubles that lay ahead, as bandleader John Nitzinger became embroiled with too many distractions and made fans wait almost four years for another Nitzinger LP. [New millennium reissues of One Foot in History were enhanced with a pair of bonus tracks: the funky album outtake "Power Glide" and a hair-raising, nine-minute live jam on "Texas Blues, Jelly Roll."]
John Nitzinger is a Fort Worth, Texas guitarist and songwriter. In the very early 1970s, Nitzinger penned five songs for the Fort Worth band Bloodrock. When Bloodrock 2 went Gold, Nitzinger signed a contract with Capitol Records and his first album, the self titled Nitzinger, was released in early 1972.
Nitzinger's self-titled debut album was in fact the work of a budding Texan guitar cult legend -- the one and only John Nitzinger -- and his namesake power trio, whose music consisted of eclectic but still blues-drenched Southern hard rock and post-psych. The results include ZZ Top-style boogie and blues-rock ("Boogie Queen"), pre-Ted Nugent Gonzo guitar heroisms ("Witness to the Truth"), both of these at once ("Tickelick"), or neither, when it comes to the anthemic Southern rock of "My Last Goodbye," and semi-hit single "Louisiana Cock Fight." In addition, several cuts ("No Sun," "The Nature of Your Taste," etc.) see the trio augmented by soulful backup singers for a Mad Dogs & Englishmen sort of vibe, while others still see the versatile trio flirting with country-rock ("L.A. Texas Boy ") and plaintive balladry (the piano-enhanced "Enigma").
Yet the album's most intriguing/unique quality may be how the deceptively simple, universal, off the cuff material described above features obvious, if nuanced, sophistication, and is offset by lyrically weighty, post-flower power fare as seen in the aforementioned "No Sun" and "Hero of the War." And the fact that even these would-be progressive tendencies are kept to concise song lengths is what probably spared this album from utterly fatal dating; by extension, further separating Nitzinger's raised-on-the-jukebox-singles wheat, from the era's dominant music-conservatory-on-mushrooms chaff. Originally presented in a deluxe gatefold sleeve, it's not surprising that the Nitzinger LP has long been coveted by '70s rock collectors for the band's one-of-a-kind mixture of earthy grit and fearless (possibly naïve) flights of fancy.
George Smith was born on April 22, 1924 in Helena, Arkansas, but was raised in Cairo, Illinois. At age four, he was already taking harp lessons from his mother, a guitar player and a somewhat stern taskmaster: it was a case of get-it-right-or-else. In his early teens, he started hoboing around towns in the South and later joined Early Woods, a country band with Early Woods on fiddle and Curtis Gould on spoons. He also worked with a gospel group in Mississippi called the Jackson Jubilee Singers. Smith moved to Rock Island, Illinois, in 1941 and played with a group that included Francis Clay on drums. There is evidence that he was one of the first to amplify his harp. While working at the Dixie Theater, he took an old 16mm cinema projector, extracted the amplifier/speaker, and began using this on the streets.
Smith's first album on World Pacific, A Tribute to Little Walter, was released in 1968. In 1969, Bob Thiele produced an excellent solo album of Smith on Bluesway, and later made use of Smith as a sideman for his Blues Times label, including sets with T-Bone Walker and Harmonica Slim. Smith met Rod Piazza, a young white harp player, and they formed the Southside Blues Band, later known as Bacon Fat. In 1969, Smith signed with U.K. producer Mike Vernon and did the No Time for Jive album. He was less active in the '70s, appearing with Eddie Taylor and Big Mama Thornton. Around 1977, Smith became friends with William Clarke and they began working together. Their working relationship and friendship continued until Smith died on October 2, 1983.
by Michael Erlewine
Blue Horizon didn’t sign many contemporary US acts, although they did reissue lots of classic American tracks. Bacon Fat featured two bona fide blues heroes in the shape of the West Coast harmonica ace George Smith and the pianist J. D. Nicholson, as well as a bunch of talented white kids, including the harmonica- star-in-the-making Rod Piazza. Together, in these 1970 cuts, they give a blues masterclass with Smith — a revered figure among harp fans — showing off his big, almost sax-like harmonica sound and Piazza revelling in some choice Little Walter numbers.
Fathers and Sons is certainly one of the finest sets of performances from Muddy in quite a while and will do much to offset the bad taste left by the previous Electric Mud and After the Rain albums.
Actually, the performances are surprisingly conservative efforts — certainly not the sort of exciting or fruitful cross-generation, cross-stylistic music one might have been led to expect from the lineup; Waters and Spann (and perhaps drummer Sam Lay) representing the modern Chicago blues mainstream, Bloomfield, Butterfield and Duck Dunn signaling more recent extensions of modern electric blues styles. No, the anticipated fusion doesn’t really take place, and the younger musicians seem content in undertaking roles that are wholly subservient to Muddy’s music. It gives an indication of just how highly the sons regard the father(s), and is a fine tribute to Muddy.
Mike and Paul are almost completely self-effacing throughout the album, particularly on the studio-recorded tracks — “All Aboard” (actually a remake of Crudup’s “Mean Old Frisco”), “Mean Disposition,” “Blow Wind Blow,” “Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had,” “Walkin’ Thru the Park,” “Forty Days and Forty Nights,” “Standin’ ‘Round Crying,” “I’m Ready,” “Twenty-Four Hours” and “Sugar Sweet.” The impression left by these performances is that the participants were striving towards recreating the sounds and textures of Muddy’s original recordings of them and, in this, they’re fairly successful. They’re also helped greatly by the fact that these are songs that have not been done to death, so there’s a certain amount of freshness just due to this. Producer Norman Dayron chose wisely in determining what numbers were to be concentrated on at the sessions (I know for a fact that he sifted through virtually every Waters Chess recording, including unreleased numbers, to come up with a program of tunes that were good and strong but not over-familiar, and his advance planning paid off handsomely).
Happily, Muddy is in excellent voice throughout these performances and he comes across solidly and excitingly. This is in fact some of the best, most convincing singing from Muddy in a hell of a long time; these tracks show that when he’s at the top of his game he’s unbeatable. And he’s there most of the way through these performances. The music takes its lead from Muddy, and everything falls in place behind him.
Butterfield is excellent, playing with a great deal of controlled power, with taste and invention to spare, and tons of energy in reserve. His amplifier tone is beautifully gutty and funky, with just the right edge of cutting intensity. And he never overplays or indulges himself; his accompaniments perfectly complement Muddy’s singing — Paul is listening and responding all the time. Why, Butter, what big ears you have! The basic impetus of his work here is clearly Little Walter, and he’s got it down beautifully, as any number of performances reveal — “Mean Disposition,” “Blow Wind Blow” (two tasty hot Buttered choruses, the first with Bloomfield fills), “Forty Days and Forty Nights,” “I’m Ready,” and so on. Just tasty, intelligent, feelingful harp work, spare, lyrical, driving in turn — and always appropriate. And almost as rhythmically relaxed and insinuating as Little Walter, which is high praise indeed. By the way, while we’re talking about harmonica playing, there’s superlative chromatic work by Jeff Carp (formerly with Sam Lay, lately working with Earl Hooker) all the way through “All Aboard,” acting as a sort of continue to Muddy’s singing and Paul’s rhythmic interjections, on regular harmonica, on the other channel. But on this track it’s Jeff’s show, and he does a hell of a job.
Though he gets a few solos, Spann’s role is primarily rhythmic, and his playing seems a shade less incisive than it has been in the past (his recent heart attacks doubtless explain his adopting a more subdued role). And his piano sound, while clearly defined, is a bit distant sounding.
Bloomfield is almost completely subsidiary to Muddy, although he does have a few soloes in his usual style. Mike’s at his best here — in terms of the overall contours of the music, that is — when he works closely with Muddy and plays in a style akin to the usual second-guitar role developed by such as Little Walter and Jimmy Rogers. That is, good, interesting bass guitar lines that contrast nicely with what Muddy’s playing, or in brief line or phrase-ending fills. He’s actually less effective in solo, for here he plays in his own distinctive, very modern style and this tends to clash with the generally funkier needs and colors of Muddy’s music. Mike’s playing on “You Con’t Lose,” for example, seems a bit too cute for the tune, and his solo on “Walkin’ Thru the Park,” while good, is just a bit too frantic, particularly in view of the already busy textures on which it’s overlaid. The solo with which “I’m Ready” ends also seems inapposite when contrasted with what’s gone before. And so on. Generally, though, Mike does a good supporting job, the only clashes occurring when his own basically sweet melodic style is superimposed on Muddy’s guttier, more rhythmically forceful and less introspective of lyrical approach.
Let me emphasize, however, that these are fine performances on their own terms. It’s perhaps unfortunate that they hew so closely to the arrangements and textures of the “original” recordings of the tunes because this inevitably invites comparison with the originals. And quite frankly, these recent performances — all of them — come off second best. I don’t believe I’m being unfair, obstinate or wrongheadedly romantic in saying this, either: the originals just happen to have greater power, more clearly defined textures, better organization and focus more subtle rhythmic playing and, finally, greater originality than do these. For people who are not familiar with Muddy’s originals this will not be a problem, of course, and these pieces can be enjoyed for what they are — strong, direct, modern Chicago music played honestly and unpretentiously. I do hope, though, that new listeners will be motivated by these performances into checking out the original recordings, which Chess hopefully will be issuing as part of its forthcoming ambitious reissue series.
“Long Distance Call,” “Baby, Please Don’t Go,” “Honey Bee,” “The Same Thing,” and two versions of “Got My Mojo Working” — recorded at an April 24th Chicago benefit concert for the Phoenix Fellowship. Personnel is the same as for the studio sessions, with the exception that drummer Buddy Miles is added (to little audible effect) for the second “Mojo.” Not as polished or as well recorded as the studio material, these tracks possess a good bit of excitement and spirit — though not enough to challenge comparison with the original Waters recordings of the tunes.
Again, Muddy is in excellent voice and, fortunately, his singing is one of the few elements of the proceedings that were recorded adequately. His singing here is simultaneously relaxed and driving, with a nice easy swing that is never forced. Then, too, Butterfield plays slashing, burning harmonica on these tracks, never letting up and pushing things along. He and Muddy make these performances what they are. Bloomfield has two brief solos, neither particularly interesting primarily because they’re just too short, and he pretty much stays in the background, working with the rhythm section.
The recorded sound is not very good; it starts off very poorly but does manage to get a bit better. Spann’s piano and Bloomfield’s guitar are inaudible on “Long Distance Call,” but they’re brought up to a relatively proper level by the time “Baby, Please Don’t Go” (composer credit given Muddy rather than to Big Joe Williams; why?) gets under way. Things pop in and out through the rest of the performances. Sometimes Butterfield’s harp playing is all but lost in the shuffle, other times it cuts through the fuzzy textures with an abrupt sharpness. Apparently the recording situation was difficult (people milling around backstage, etc.), but still and all recording engineer Reice Hamel — who ostensibly specializes in location recording — should have been able to do better than this. With good mikes and a Scully 4-track, the sound should have been far better defined and balanced than this.
Some of the finest Muddy performances in a while but still a long way from the original performances on which his towering reputation rests. The project is helped not a little by Butterfield’s intelligent and feelingful playing, and Sam Lay’s propulsive drumming. Certainly this is the only recent Muddy Waters set to buy … and that’s what this set is — a Muddy Waters album. The faces of some of the sidemen may be white and young but otherwise that’s the sole difference between the performances of this and several earlier editions of the Waters band.
by Pete Welding
Tracks
1. All Aboard - 2:52
2. Mean Disposition - 5:43
3. Blow Wind Blow - 3:38
4. Can't Lose What You Ain't Never Had - 3:06
5. Walkin Thru The Park - 3:22
6. Forty Days And Forty Nights (Bernard Roth) - 3:08
7. Standin' Round Cryin' - 4:05
8. I'm Ready (Willie Dixon) - 3:39
9. Twenty Four Hours (Eddie Boyd) - 4:48
10.Sugar Sweet - 2:18
11.Country Boy - 3:20
12.I Love The Life I Live (I Live The Life I Love) (Willie Dixon) - 2:45
13.Oh Yeah (Willie Dixon) - 3:38
14.I Feel So Good (Big Bill Broonzy) - 3:01
15.Long Distance Call - 6:37
16.Baby, Please Don't Go (Big Joe Williams) - 3:04
17.Honey Bee - 3:56
18.The Same Thing (Willie Dixon) - 5:59
19.Got My Mojo Working, Part One (Preston Foster, McKinley Morganfield) - 3:23
20.Got My Mojo Working, Part Two (Preston Foster, McKinley Morganfield) - 5:12
All songs by McKinley Morganfield except where noted
Kites is more layered and complex than Waves, the duo's previous outing. The album reportedly took nine months to record, a long time by mid-1970s standards. The first half is dominated by Jon Field compositions, which are meant to convey the sounds of a kite drifting through skies that range from sunny and calm to stormy and dangerous. Dense and dramatic, numbers such as "Songs of the Forest" and "Wind Song" spotlight unconventional percussive combinations, ethereal wordless choir voices, and Field's gentle flute playing.
Tony Duhig dominates the second half of Kites with a group of songs interpreting Teh Ch'eng, the Boat Monk, a traditional Zen story. This is a rare example of intense ambient sound, best realized in "Quietly by the River Bank," which begins with an ominous tone and explodes with the fury of a samurai warrior. The remainder is more contemplative and some of the energy flags, but the album concludes on a high note with "The Last Question," one of Jade Warrior's prettiest melodies.
by Casey Elston
Tracks
1. Songs of the Forest - 3:12
2. Wind Song - 4:05
3. The Emperor - 1:58
4. Wind Borne - 6:52
5. Kite Song - 3:04
6. Land of the Warrior - 3:29
7. Quietly by the River Bank - 3:20
8. Arrival of the Emperor: What Does the Venerable Sir Do? - 1:06
9. Teh Ch'eng: Do You Understand This? - 2:32
10.Arrival of Chia Shan: Disclosure and Liberation - 4:10
11.Towards the Mountains - 2:03
12.The Last Question - 0:36
All compositions by Tony Duhig, Jon Field
Jade Warrior
*Tony Duhig - Guitars, Percussion, Keyboards, Production
*Jon Field - Flutes, Guitar, Percussion, Production
Though Muddy Waters was no cadet by the time After The Rain emerged in the Spring of 1969, it was only his fifth studio album. It came on the heels of Electric Mud, his much-vaunted “psychedelic” album that was panned on release, though it sounds pretty decent in hindsight.
In theory this album is more Muddy than its precursor, full of songs he wrote or associated with him, though the picture of him looking weird with a frog in his hand is fair warning that this is not trad blues.
Again he’s in the company of Chess’ young dynamos: the great Charles Stepney co-produces with Marshall Chess and Gene Barge; the deliberately intrusive lead guitar is played by the underrated Phil Upchurch, and that’s Morris Jennings (Ramsey Lewis, Superfly) on drums.
It’s not quite the clash of cultures Electric Mud was perceived as; it doesn’t all work but when it does, it really works. It improves as it goes on: Rollin’ And Tumblin’ becomes a funky blues that you can imagine turning a beer shack to matchwood; the aiming-for-abstract Bottom Of The Sea, with riffin’ cellos and guitars like distant kelp, is amazing.
Honey Bee could almost be normal Muddy, Blues And Trouble flips another funk grenade on your ears and the album closes with two tunes played kinda straight. Kinda.
Muddy doesn’t pretend to be anything other than himself – BS might be goin’ on but it don’ bother me – which is what makes it work. Far better than you feared.
by Ian McCann
Tracks
1. I Am The Blues (Willie Dixon) - 4:39
2. Ramblin' Mind - 4:45
3. Rollin' And Tumblin' - 4:50
4. Bottom Of The Sea - 5:24
5. Honey Bee - 4:18
6. Blues And Trouble - 4:24
7. Hurtin' Soul (Clarence Williams) - 4:39
8. Screamin' And Cryin' - 5:02
All songs by McKinley Morganfield except where stated
Denny Doherty was born in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the son of an ironworker and a "housewife and mystic" as he once described his mother. He made his first public appearance at the age of 15 singing the Pat Boone hit Love Letters in the Sand at amateur night at the local skating rink. By the late 1950s he had shifted allegiance to the burgeoning folk song movement and had gained a recording contract with the New York company Columbia, with his group the Halifax Three.
The group emigrated to New York, the centre of the folk revival in the early 1960s. In Greenwich Village, he met Cass Elliott with whom he formed a short-lived group, the Mugwumps, which also featured future Lovin' Spoonful members John Sebastian and Zal Yanovsky.
Next, Doherty joined forces with husband and wife John and Michelle Phillips, as the New Journeymen. Michelle recalled that "it was so incredible to sing with somebody who had such a beautiful voice because John and I were just little croakers". Early in 1965, Cass Elliott brought her equally vital vocal talent to the group and the Mamas and the Papas were formed. As John Phillips (obituary, March 20 2001) wrote in the song Creeque Alley, his New York musician friends such as Roger McGuinn (of the Byrds) and Barry McGuire (singer of the hit Eve of Destruction) had already headed west ("McGuinn and McGuire just a-gettin' higher in LA"); the Mamas and the Papas decided to follow suit.
In the summer of 1968, however, the group collapsed as a result of the prodigious drug intake and the complicated inter-personal relationships of its members. As music historian Barney Hoskyns put it: "An affair began between Michelle and Denny for whom Cass lusted."
Mama Cass launched herself on a solo career, while Michelle Phillips moved into acting and John and Denny each recorded solo albums. Denny's Waiting For a Song was the last album Cass sang on before her death in London in 1974. In 1975 Doherty made his acting debut in Man on the Moon, a Broadway show created by Phillips and Andy Warhol.
Dennis (Denny) Gerrard Stephen Doherty, singer and actor, born November 29 1940; died January 19 2007.
by Dave Laing, 22 Jan 2007
Denny Doherty's second effort released in 1974. The title of "Give Me Back That Old Familiar Feeling," paired with the album's title, provide the intertwined recurring lyrical themes: Doherty as the lost artist looking for a song to sing and a reason to live -- the concepts becoming interchangeable after a while -- and continually looking to the past for fear of looking forward. This motif is underscored by the presence of his former bandmates, Cass Elliot and Michelle Phillips, on backing vocals throughout the record. Their harmonizing voices are in fine form, but the arrangements are far less novel than those from the group's heyday, and Doherty doesn't hit notes as brightly with his tenor as he once did.
The poor distribution rendered this album an instant obscurity, though collectors and Doherty fans were delighted by its reissue on the Varese Vintage imprint in 2001. In hindsight, the record is remarkable for its naked honesty, Doherty making little secret, either in the tunes or in the liner photos, of how much of a wreck he is, but on its own merits, Waiting for a Song is too much of a buzzkill to tout unreservedly. Highlights include the minor AC hit "You'll Never Know" and the Larry Weiss-penned ballad "Lay Me Down (Roll Me Out to Sea)."
by Joseph McCombs
Tracks
1. Simone (Dan England, John Ford Coley) - 3:13
2. Children Of My Mind (Gary Osborne) - 3:16
3. You'll Never Know (Harry Warren, Mack Gordon) - 2:56
4. Together (Dick Addrisi, Don Addrisi) - 3:16
5. It Can Only Happen In America (Denny Doherty, Henry 'Bud' Fanton) - 4:02
6. Southern Comfort (Rick Sandler) - 3:03
7. You've Lost That Loving Feeling (Barry Mann, Cynthia Weil, Phil Spector) - 4:23
8. Goodnight And Good Morning (Daryl Hall, John Oates) - 2:41
9. Lay Me Down (Roll Me Out To Sea) (Larry Weiss) - 4:12
10.Give Me Back That Old Familiar Feeling (Bill C. Graham) - 2:28
11.I'm Home Again (Timothy Martin, Walt Meskell) - 3:04
Originally hailed from Chicago moved to San Francisco and released one album and a couple of singles. With the recent glut of groups using a brass section, it's good to hear one that has potential to top all the ones currently in existence.
The Second Coming, is a nine piece homegrown group played with finesse not often seen in rock groups during its recent stay here. Music is tight when its need to be and fee when the songs call for it.
Leader is Buddy Stephens who is vocalist and doubles on drums and trumpet. His voice is powerful and was well sjhowcased as the group did several numbers from its Mercury records LP. Les King is a standout on drums, as he pushed, shoved and drove the band through the songs, never allowing a letup.
The horn section was punchy, with Bob Penny on guitar, Ernie Seil on bass, Tom Palmer on bass, and Dave Miller on organ, each leading the right amount of support.
The Strong soloing talent of the group was showcased during "Ain't It Funky", a 20 minute piece that was all too short. Put simply the group is a dynamite.
by George Knemeyer, October 10, 1970
Tracks
1. Requiem For A Rainy Day (Dave Miller) - 4:03
2. Take Me Home (Dave Miller) - 4:19
3. Nobody Cares (Dave Miller) - 5:33
4. Landlubber (Dave Miller) - 5:32
5. Roundhouse (Dave Miller) - 3:34
6. It's Over (Bob Penny) - 4:47
7. Jeremiah Crane (Bill Dinwiddie, Jack Kramer, Richard Single) - 10:53
The Inmates were the archetypal pub-rock band, coming onto the scene in 1978, almost two years after the pub-rock craze started dying down. They kept the flame of this much-maligned genre going for three decades, criss-crossing Europe year in year out to bring their high energy rock’n’roll to the clubs on the continent. This set issued by Cherry Red’s Lemon label compiles their first 3 LP’s.
The band was fortunate enough to have their first two albums produced by Vic Maile, a former Pye engineer in the sixties and maverick record producer in the seventies and the eighties. Maile operated from his own recording studio in Rickmansworth where his understanding of Rock’n’Roll plus the considerable amount of vintage gear he had accumulated enabled him to bring out the best of bands as diverse as Motorhead, Brinsley Schwarz and of course The Inmates. Maile passed away too early but before his death he confided to Peter Gunn (The Inmates’s guitarist and main songwriter) that he regarded “Shot In The Dark” as his best production job.
Their debut “First Offence” starts with an almighty bang with their cover of The Standells’s “Dirty Water”. Already a garage-rock classic in its original version, it becomes here a menacing hymn to London with a noticeably fatter guitar sound and Bill Hurley’s growl acting as the icing on the cake. Lots of bands of The Inmates’s era had trouble transferring their power a a live act to tape but “First Offence” is a great album. Arthur Conley’s “Love Got Me” shows the band’s soul side with its horn punctuations. The first original song “Mr.Unreliable” features an excellent driving bass line on the choruses while “The Walk”, an early rock’n’roll song published in 1958 get The Inmates steroid shot. The frantics “Jealousy” and “Back In History” both penned by guitarist Peter Gunn prove the effectiveness of the bands twin guitar approach. An excellent cover of The Pretty Things’s “Midnight To Six Man” manages to equal the original in its aggression.
As was the normal trend in these days, the band were back in the studio less than a year later to record their follow up. With three albums released in the space of three years plus all the touring in between, it’s no wonder that Bill Hurley called it a day (temporarily) at the end of 1981.”Shot In The Dark” recorded again with Maille manning the console starts with another garage rock anthem, The Music Machine’s “Talk Talk” covered in The Inmate’s style, it doesn’t strike as hard as the band’s take on “Dirty Water” put it still is a great way to start a record. The Gunn original “Tell Me What’s Wrong” is a bonafide rockabilly classic with a spot on vocal by Hurley. It has often been said that The Inmates carried the spirit of The Stone’s original recordings, however far from picking an obvious Jagger-Richard composition, the band chose the slighly merseybeat-ish “So Much In Love You” never recorded by The Stones. Peter Gunn comes up with some great originals, the jangly “Crime Don’t Pay”sees Hurley at his most theatrical while “(I Thought I Heard A) Heartbeat)” remains one the bands greatest songs (make sure you check out the live version on their live album “In The Heat Of The Night”).
Their third LP “Heatwave In Alaska” sees them work with Shakin Stevens’s producer Stuart Coleman. As explained in the liner notes by Michael Heatley, this was a decision by WEA who had absorbed Radar Records by that point. This kind of situation doesn’t usually generate the setting for a good recording atmosphere but the Coleman-Inmates association proves to be a successful one. The sound might be a bit more polished and radio friendly than on “First Offence and “Shot In The Dark” but opener “She’s Gone Rockin'” penned by bass player Ben Donnelly proved they still rock with considerable aplomb. Bill Hurley shines on a cover of The Four Top’s “Something About You” which also benefits from the presence of keyboard studio wizard Pete Wingfield (one hit wonder with his doo-wop homage “Eighteen With A Bullet”) and sax master Junior Walker who happened to be playing in London at the time of the album’s recording.
The band’s soul side really comes to the fore here, Peter Gunn writing some tailor made songs for Bill Hurley’s fantastic voice (“Broken Hearted”). The band cover The Everly Brothers with a power pop version of “You Can Bet (A Broken Heart)”while drummer Jim Russell makes his songwriting debut with an excellent rockabilly romp titled “Three Little Sisters”. Peter Gunn again proves he can churn out great rockers at will with “Yeah Yeah Yeah”. The bluesy “Who’s Foolin Who” with its sleazy shuffle is followed by another soulful Gunn original (“Send Some Of Your Loving My Way”). Their version of NRBQ’s “Me And The Boys” issued as a standalone single (with a gritty little original called “Betty Lou” as B-Side) are a nice addition to an album available on CD format for the first time.
by Craig Chaligne, June 16, 2017
Tracks
Disc 1 First Offence 1979
1. Dirty Water (Ed Cobb) - 3:01
2. Love Got Me (Arthur Conley) - 3:38
3. Mr. Unreliable (Peter Staines) - 2:53
4. The Walk (Bob Garlic, Jimmy McCracklin) - 2:47
5. I Can't Sleep (Peter Staines) - 3:02
6. Jealousy (Peter Staines) - 2:57
7. Three Time Loser (Don Covay, Ronald Miller) - 2:38
8. You're The One That Done It (Ray Scott) - 2:32
9. Midnight To Six Man (Dick Taylor, Phil May) - 2:18
