John Kongos - Kongos

The Happy Mondays' Pills 'n' Thrills and Bellyaches is one of my favorite albums and never fails to put me in a good mood.  But I hadn't really gotten into other bands of the same era and feel, so I wanted to search for some of their influences instead.  The Mondays covered at least two John Kongos songs that appear on this album.  

This album sounds like some pretty talented studio / session players (essentially Elton John's band at the time) dragged their instruments out to the woods, overloaded on really fantastic drugs, and tried to find Jesus.  It's no wonder the Happy Mondays like this guy so much.  You could spend a career trying to hit the same highs Kongos does.

Mike Oldfield - Tubular Bells

The theme for The Exorcist is one of the most recognizable movie themes in American history. But it's not as well known that the theme was from an early album of prog rocker Mike Oldfield. Oldfield came out with Tubular Bells in 1973; it was used in The Exorcist in the same year. So the first few minutes of this album, at least, are already familiar. The rest of it, perhaps not so much. Tubular Bells is nearly ubiquitous at used record stores, so I decided to give it a try.

What a treat! At first, the unusual time signatures and general repetitiveness of the music reminded me of Steve Reich and other classical acts. With time, though, the way various instruments are introduced, the way things culminate, peak, decay, soar, and disappear reminds me more of prog rockers like Soft Machine. It's rock, it's kinda jazzy, it's well-composed. Tubular Bells is only two tracks; each spans the entire side of a record, much like Soft Machine's Third album. So it's not surprising to see that Oldfield has some connection to Kevin Ayers. (The surprising bit is that he was 16 [16!] when he went on the road as part of Ayers' touring band.)

There are about 50 different instruments that come into the mix here, and Oldfield is playing the vast majority of them. It seems in the early 70s there was this trend of a self-made album, like Paul McCartney's McCartney, Stevie Wonder's Music of My Mind, Roy Wood's Boulders, and Todd Rundgren's A Wizard, A True Star. There's a level of ambition and talent in those albums that seems absolutely inconceivable today.

Really, the more I dig into this album the more amazing it seems. For instance:

Tubular Bells, originally dubbed Opus 1, grew out of studio time gifted by Richard Branson, who at the time was running a mail-order record retail service. After its completion, Oldfield shopped the record to a series of labels, only to meet with rejection; frustrated, Branson decided to found his own label, and in 1973 Tubular Bells became the inaugural release of Virgin Records.

Yowza.

Pretty Things - SF Sorrow

Who could ever have thought, going back to the Pretty Things' first recording session in 1965 -- which started out so disastrously that their original producer quit in frustration -- that it would come to this? The Pretty Things' early history in the studio featured the band with its amps seemingly turned up to 11, but for much of S.F. Sorrow the band is turned down to seven or four, or even two, or not amplified at all (except for Wally Allen's bass -- natch), and they're doing all kinds of folkish things here that are still bluesy enough so you never forget who they are, amid weird little digressions on percussion and chorus; harmony vocals that are spooky, trippy, strange, and delightful; sitars included in the array of stringed instruments; and an organ trying hard to sound like a Mellotron. Sometimes one gets an echo of Pink Floyd's Piper at the Gates of Dawn or A Saucerful of Secrets, and it all straddles the worlds of British blues and British psychedelia better than almost any record you can name. The album, for those unfamiliar, tells the story of "S.F. Sorrow," a sort of British Everyman -- think of a working-class, luckless equivalent to the Kinks' Arthur, from cradle to grave. The tale and the songs are a bit downbeat and no amount of scrutiny can disguise the fact that the rock opera S.F. Sorrow is ultimately a bit of a confusing effort -- these boys were musicians, not authors or dramatists. Although it may have helped inspire Tommy, it is, simply, not nearly as good. That said, it was first and has quite a few nifty ideas and production touches. And it does show a pathway between blues and psychedelia that the Rolling Stones, somewhere between Satanic Majesties, "We Love You," "Child of the Moon," and Beggars Banquet, missed entirely.

(Pretty Things - SF Sorrow)

Kevin Ayers - Bananamour

Bananamour is ripe with Kevin Ayers' most mature and accessible compositions to date. Ayers grounded himself in a newly formed trio for his follow-up to Whatevershebringswesing. With bassist Archie Leggett and drummer Eddie Sparrow at the hub, Ayers selected guest artists for a handful of the tracks: Whole World colleague Dave Bedford ("Beware of the Dog"), Gong's new guitarist Steve Hillage ("Shouting in a Bucket Blues"), and former Soft Machine mates Robert Wyatt ("Hymn") and Mike Ratledge ("Interview"). "Interview" is easily one of the album's strongest, most original tunes, charged with a rugged, positively electrifying guitar sound courtesy of Ayers and psychedelic organ flourishes by Ratledge. And "Shouting in a Bucket Blues" is Ayers' inspired pop/blues groove. Armed with a few biting lyrics, the song became a concert staple, fronted by a number of well-known guitarists over the years including Mike Oldfield and Andy Summers. Hillage delivers heat in this original studio recording of the song; he went on to repeat the performance many times while in Europe with Ayers' Bananatour band, Decadence. The song "Decadence" is the album's centerpiece and towering achievement. Here, Ayers, Leggett, and Sparrow create progressive, atmospheric music quite unlike anything else on the record. An original, spine-tingling workout with potent lyrics concerning Nico, "Decadence" is a kind of superior foreshadowing to the following year's "Confessions of Dr. Dream" epic, which features a vocal collaboration with Nico on "Part One." The compositions on Bananamour emphasize the vocal aspects of the material; in fact, Ayers secured the industry's premier session vocalists to back him on the recordings: Liza Strike, Doris Troy, and Barry St. John. In various configurations, the trio fleshs out the songs, adding a compelling depth to the album that pleasantly expands Ayers' eclectic repertoire. In particular, they lend a gospel quality to the Beatles-tinged opener, and imbue "When Your Parents Go to Sleep" with rather soulful Ray Charles stylistics. Intended to break Ayers to a wider audience, Bananamour was his last release on EMI/Harvest before switching to a new label (Island) and a new manager (the influential John Reid, Elton John's manager at the time). The ideas on Bananamour, arguably Ayers' finest work, gave way to some very focused, full-fledged prog rock and blues numbers on his ambitious follow-up, The Confessions of Dr. Dream and Other Stories (Island Records, 1974).

(Kevin Ayers - Bananamour)

Ash Ra Tempel - Inventions for Electric Guitar

This album is sometimes credited to Ash Ra Tempel, but the music was composed and performed by Manuel Göttsching alone. All sounds were created with guitar, but Göttsching's use of echo, delay, and assorted treatments give these pieces the flavor of sequenced synthesizer music, occasionally reminiscent of Tangerine Dream's work from the period. The opening "Echo Waves" is a trance-inducing space guitar masterpiece, with repeating rhythm figures and gradual phase shifts creating a warped sense of time. The first 14 minutes of the track consist of short, subtly changing melodic phrases, until Göttsching questionably chooses to close with a searing, acid-fried guitar solo. "Quasarsphere" is much more contemplative, with Göttsching processing his guitar to sound like a synthesizer in the vein of Robert Fripp. The closing "Pluralis" consists of endless variations constructed around a simple guitar sequence; it possesses a structure similar to "Echo Waves" (down to the late-breaking blast of psychedelic soloing) with a bit more space and a slower tempo. In some respects a precursor to the groundbreaking proto-techno of E2-E4, Inventions for Electric Guitar is an essential document for space rock enthusiasts.

(Ash Ra Tempel - Inventions for Electric Guitar)

La Düsseldorf - La Düsseldorf

After Neu! broke up in 1975, Klaus Dinger formed La Düsseldorf with his brother Thomas and Hans Lampe, who had both contributed percussion on Neu!'s swan song album. Neu! always displayed a split personality, rooted in the conflicting temperaments and sensibilities of Dinger and guitarist Michael Rother, differences that were dramatized on the duo's final record, where Rother's mellower, melodic atmospherics contrasted with Dinger's anarchic, noisier inclinations. Recorded in 1975, La Düsseldorf's self-titled debut effects something of a compromise between those two aesthetics. Built on driving beats and fleshed out with expansive synth coloring, the 13-minute "Düsseldorf" is a grand, pop-friendly homage to Dinger's hometown. Although its repetitive glide recalls Neu!'s signature Motorik groove, there's something more playful and joyous about Dinger's approach here, especially at the moments when the vocals venture briefly into mock operatics and a glammy piano hammers away. The title track involves similar sonic ingredients but puts them to more concise and aggressive use. As with Neu!'s "Hero" and "After Eight," Dinger injects this song with a speedy, sloganeering rush that anticipates punk; at the same time, though, its incorporation of a soccer-crowd chant seems almost a prescient parody of the brainless variant of punk that would later turn the movement into self-caricature. Indeed, while Dinger was punk avant la lettre, he already had a foot in the post-punk era, something that's most evident on "Silver Cloud" and "Time." These tracks are more minimalist, looking forward to the pared-down, monochromatic austerity that would follow punk's color-cartoon demise. On "Time," an oceanic ebb and flow and somber church-organ sounds eventually yield to a hypnotic, nodding pulse. The album's standout, the mesmerizing instrumental "Silver Cloud," sees prominent synths and mechanical rhythms impart a cool electronic aura that certainly resonated with Bowie and made its presence felt on his Berlin recordings.

(La Düsseldorf - La Düsseldorf)

Kevin Ayers - Whatevershebringswesing

Melancholic and reflective, Kevin Ayers' third solo effort, Whatevershebringswesing (this time sans the Whole World as a collective), finds the ultimate underachiever languishing in a realm of ballads, free (for the most part) from the façade and pretensions of prog rock that plagued the previous project. Released in January 1972, Whatevershebringswesing was Ayers' most commercially accessible album to date. The opening track, the "There Is Loving" suite, was both apropos and deceptive. The song picks up nicely from the previous album, linked by its Soft Machine/prog rock sound and fronting the lyrics from the single "Butterfly Dance"; however, for the very same reason, this was a deceptive opener for an album that was far removed from the prog subgenre. In the interim between Shooting at the Moon and Whatever, Ayers gigged with his friend Daevid Allen's band, Gong, on a European tour, the results of which can be heard on the phenomenal Peel session recording Pre-Modern Wireless. Afterward, Ayers plucked saxophonist Didier Malherbe out of Gong momentarily to supplement the sound on his next album. The perfect substitute for Lol Coxhill, Malherbe and flute are a standout on the opener, "There Is Loving," with moving orchestral arrangements by Dave Bedford on the "Among Us" midsection. Initially released as a single, the album's highlight and concert staple, "Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes," is classic Ayers. While many outstanding guitarists have ripped up this grooving, occasionally aggressive blues/pop riff, Ayers himself laid down the guitar and piano tracks on this maiden recording. In line with Ayers' most appealing, successful compositions, "Stranger" and the majority of cuts on Whatever are uncomplicated and frank, allowing the listener to immediately step inside. Ayers' tunes may be light and semisweet, but he doesn't beat around the bush. "Oh My" and "Champagne Cowboy Blues" are exquisite examples of Ayers' ability to immediately pull in the listener via his lighthearted, slightly skewed approach. "Champagne" features the signature Mike Oldfield sound/style that would soon sell millions of records for him as a solo artist. Noteworthy are "Song From the Bottom of a Well" and "Lullaby." Intoned with darkness and foreboding, "Well" harks back to Soft Machine's "Why Are We Sleeping?" and foreshadows Ayers' Dr. Dream album, particularly "It Begins With a Blessing." But like much of the experimental material on his previous release, "Well" just doesn't build up to anything of substance. And the instrumental "Lullaby" (appropriately titled) closes the album on an odd note. Reminiscent of King Crimson's "Cadence and Cascade" (from In the Wake of Poseidon) and highlighted by Malherbe's fluid flute, "Lullaby" is an early example of new age ambience, complete with running brook in the background. Whatevershebringswesing falls short of the ambitious peaks found on Ayers' previous record; however, the material is much more consistent, focused, and devoid of that album's pitfalls. Ayers sounds comfortable and in his true element on Whatever, but like much of his post-'70s output, the compositions lack challenge. Whatevershebringswesing has often been cited as Ayers' magnum opus, but the term should be reserved for his follow-up, Bananamour, or even The Confessions of Dr. Dream.

(Kevin Ayers - Whatevershebringswesing)

Todd Rundgren - A Wizard, A True Star

Undoubtedly the best album I discovered this year; it now reigns as one of my favorite listening experiences. Stick with it! --slowen

Something/Anything? proved that Todd Rundgren could write a pop classic as gracefully as any of his peers, but buried beneath the surface were signs that he would never be satisfied as merely a pop singer/songwriter. A close listen to the album reveals the eccentricities and restless spirit that surges to the forefront on its follow-up, A Wizard, a True Star. Anyone expecting the third record of Something/Anything?, filled with variations on "I Saw the Light" and "Hello It's Me," will be shocked by A Wizard. As much a mind-f*ck as an album, A Wizard, a True Star rarely breaks down to full-fledged songs, especially on the first side, where songs and melodies float in and out of a hazy post-psychedelic mist. Stylistically, there may not be much new -- he touched on so many different bases on Something/Anything? that it's hard to expand to new territory -- but it's all synthesized and assembled in fresh, strange ways. Often, it's a jarring, disturbing listen, especially since Rundgren's humor has turned bizarre and insular. It truly takes a concerted effort on the part of the listener to unravel the record, since Rundgren makes no concessions -- not only does the soul medley jerk in unpredictable ways, but the anthemic closer, "Just One Victory," is layered with so many overdubs that it's hard to hear its moving melody unless you pay attention. And that's the key to understanding A Wizard, a True Star -- it's one of those rare rock albums that demands full attention and, depending on your own vantage, it may even reward such close listening.

(Todd Rundgren - A Wizard, A True Star)

Ash Ra Temple - Schwingungen

Ash Ra Tempel's second album featured the first of several personnel changes, Klaus Schulze having departed for other realms and replaced as a result by Wolfgang Muller. A few guest players surfaced here and there as well, with one John L. taking the lead vocals -- another difference from the self-titled debut, which was entirely instrumental. The general principle of side-long efforts continued, though the first half was split into two related songs, "Light" and "Darkness." "Light" itself sounded halfway between the zoned-out exploration of "Traummaschine" and bluesy jamming, a weird if not totally discordant combination that still manages to sound more out there than most bands of the time. Gottsching's fried solo, in particular, is great, sending the rest of the song out to silence that leads into "Darkness." Said song initially takes a far more minimal approach that bears even more resemblance to "Traummaschine," fading out almost entirely by the third minute before a full band performance (including Uli Popp on bongos and Matthais Wehler's sudden alto sax bursts) slowly builds into a frenetic jam. John L.'s vocals become echoed screams and yelps not far off from Damo Suzuki's approach in Can, and the overall performance is a perfect slice of Krautrock insanity, sudden swirls of flanging and even more on-the-edge solos from Gottsching and Wehler sending it over the top. "Suche & Liebe" takes up the entire second side, the performers this time around concentrating on the quiet but unsettling approach, Gottsching's massive soloing kept low in the mix but not so much that it doesn't freak out listeners. The song concludes on an almost conventionally pretty band jam, something that could almost be Meddle-era Pink Floyd, only with even a more haunting, alien air thanks to the wordless vocal keening.

(Ash Ra Temple - Schwingungen)

Kevin Ayers - Joy of a Toy

As the Soft Machine's first bassist and original principal songwriter, Kevin Ayers was an overlooked force behind the group's groundbreaking recordings in 1967 and 1968. This, his solo debut, is so tossed-off and nonchalant that one gets the impression he wanted to take it easy after helping pilot the manic innovations of the Softs. Laissez-faire sloth has always been part of Ayers' persona, and this record's intermittent lazy charm helped establish it. That doesn't get around the fact, however, that this set of early progressive rock does not feature extremely strong material. Ayers' command of an assortment of instruments is impressive, and his deep bass vocals and playful, almost goofy song-sketches are affecting, but they don't really stick with the listener. It's no accident that some of the tracks recall early Soft Machine: Robert Wyatt drums on most of the songs, and "Song for Insane Times" is virtually a bona fide Soft Machine performance, featuring actual backing from the group itself. A likable but slight album that is at its best when Ayers is at his folkiest.

(Kevin Ayers - Joy of a Toy)