Popgruppen

Robert DeStefano and the price of sanity

With a band name lifted from a Bonzo Dog Band lyric, a heavily multi-tracked studio sound and complex pop songs that turn on a dime, The Blood Rush Hour are a band very much rooted in the progressive pop movement of the early 1970s. Almost six years in the making, their fourth and latest album is filled to the brim with dizzyingly busy yet catchy pop. Michael Björn talks to bandleader Robert DeStefano to find out more.

“Sanity Fare is one work, like a symphony or something,” explains DeStefano. “There are songs that do certain things in the progression of the album, taking you on a journey.” In fact, there is more of a night at the opera here than even a Queen album, structured as it is in two intense halves with the first half winding down to the short stillness of ‘Lost Girl’ followed by an instrumental track acting as intermission music. “‘Lost Girl´ is something completely different,” agrees DeStefano. “And then the ‘Intermezzo’, is almost like elevator music. It is there to just give a little bit of a palate cleanser.”

It may seem strange to make an album that requires a cleanser break in the middle, but music by The Blood Rush Hour is not made for easy listening. “Music has always been so special to me, so enveloping. I write from that perspective, and I suppose maybe for people who feel that way as well,” explains DeStefano. “My songs don’t have soundbites. I don’t repeat the same four chords.”

This also goes for the lyrics, that are plentiful and often have no discernible choruses to use as pegs for orientation. “I remember reading a review once of [second album] And Then… The Unthinkable Happened saying: ‘This is the only album I’ve ever listened to that I had to bring a dictionary’,” comments DeStefano. The new album also gives opportunity to test your literacy, with lyrics asking questions like: When did our dear wood become fenny? “I don’t like dumbing my lyric down,” says DeStefano. “Song lyrics should stand on their own as poems. So I work hard on that, the music actually comes much easier to me.”

And that music is typically quite richly produced. “A couple of songs on there had over a hundred tracks because of the way that I record backing vocals,” says DeStefano by way of example. “I like to record triple passes of the vocals in the middle, and do maybe a double pass of the high and a single pass of the low. Those things add up.” This layered method is used for instruments as well, resulting in a quite orchestrated studio pop sound. “I use the studio as an instrument. I’ll just start playing how I feel, thinking of melodies going in my head, trying to duplicate it on the piano. And eventually I come up with what I need. So it’s a very expensive way of working.”

Musically, inspiration is drawn from many genres. Beyond rock and pop, there are classical influences, Bossa Nova and salsa. Jazz vocalisations and chords structures are all over the place. “All these styles are kind of integrated into a single expression. I remember buying the Beatles’ White Album and just thinking how every track was so different than the one before it. Even at nine years old, it was just mind blowing to me.” But DeStefano also draws the line somewhere. “I don’t do a lot of folk ballads, where you’re telling a story.”

Although Robert DeStefano lives in Swansea in Wales, and all of the Blood Rush Hour albums have been written there, he is originally from New Jersey in the USA. He had a band called the Shades together with his brother and his teenage friends, and they released the single Hello, Mr. Johnson in 1980. “I was 17 and was the songwriter and lead singer,” says DeStefano. “We gained a bit of notoriety in the area: Philadelphia, New York City, Washington, DC.” Although very much a power pop track, listening back an interest in something a bit more advanced is also already discernible. But there would be no follow-up single and the band broke up. “I had some issues with substances,” explains DeStefano. “When I finally addressed those issues, I was in my mid 20s. I feared going back into music, and put it behind me.”

However, on a holiday trip to visit family back in the States in 2010, his brother Jack was invited for an interview to a radio station doing a retrospective about local bands, and DeStefano went along with him. They talked a little bit about the old days, but when the radio host asked if they would like to do a reunion concert, brother Jack said yes before DeStefano had time to react. “I’m always listening to what everyone is playing so playing live is a bit stressful,” says DeStefano. “But it was such a wonderful experience to get these guys back together. It reawakened my love for music.”

Back home in Wales again, DeStefano had come up with some song ideas. When asking at the local record shop where he might be able to record, he was pointed to Sonic One, a studio run by Tim Hamill. “Tim and I just hit it off very, very well,” remembers DeStefano.

The initial sessions with Tim started what eventually became the debut album Shrink. His old mates from the States flew over to Wales for the sessions, abetted with some of Tim’s friends like Christian Phillips from Sonic Executive Sessions. “Once I had enough down to release an album, I kind of liked the idea of having a band name,” says DeStefano. When he was a kid, a friend’s older brother had a lot of import albums from the UK, including Keynsham by the Bonzo Dog Band. “I fell in love with the Bonzos at that point, which is probably not a very good thing for a young developing mind,” says DeStefano with a laugh. “One of my favourite Bonzo tracks is a song called ‘Busted’, which has the lines: ‘All together in the Blood Rush Hour! / C’mon fish-face, you got the power!’” With the band name settled, the album title Shrink was inspired by DeStefano’s profession. “I’m a psychotherapist,” he explains. “My sessions are an hour and they’re often very intense. So it kind of fit in that way. “

Subsequent albums have been recorded in similar fashion, although increasingly an American studio has been utilised to reduce some of the intercontinental travel. However, all of it was always put together in Tim Hamill’s studio. That is also how the new album started, until there was an opportunity to have Willie Dowling (most recently of Dowling Poole fame) produce some of it.

Although it was a bit delicate to switch producer midway through, DeStefano couldn’t turn down the opportunity. “I went to Willie’s studio in France for one week on three different occasions. All the songs had been written at Tim’s and we had already started overdubbing them before I sent them to Willie.” Working with Willie had an impact on the sound, as Willie’s own music often has a tendency to be saturated with sound in a similar fashion as the music of The Blood Rush Hour. He added guitars and also played bass on several tracks. ”I like to have the arrangement done prior to hearing what the bass needs to do,” explains DeStefano. “Counter melody, counter rhythms, all of that kind of stuff. On ‘Billy Boy’, for instance, you’ll hear the bass playing harmony with the lead vocal on the first verse.”

With similar musical approaches, DeStefano and Willie mostly agreed on the mixes, although ‘Fashion Footsteps’ was the exception that proved the rule. “In the last chorus there’s a part where the backing vocals do a bit of call and answer that Willie took out of the mix,” remembers DeStefano. “So I asked him to please put it back in. And he did.” Although calm and quite beautiful, the song has a very dark theme. “The first verse is about walking along the sands of Southerndown Beach – a beach in Bridgend in Wales at the foot of about a 400 metter tall cliff,” says DeStefano. “It is popular for people to jump from… This album is darker, lyrically and musically, probably because of the pandemic and the craziness in the world”

Darker maybe, and like the debut, an album with a title inspired by DeStefano’s psychotherapy worklife, with the sanity fare seen as the price you pay for sanity. But on a lighter side, it is also a word play. “In English literature, if you go to the 100 books that everyone should read, Vanity Fair is one of them,” explains DeStefano. That begs the question: Is Sanity Fare one of the 100 must hear records for you? If you are willing to spend the effort, it is an album that gradually opens up and reveals itself to the listener. And it’s rewards are certainly plentiful.

Ulrika and her disappearing days

Sternpost is the solo venture of Malmö, Sweden, based Petter Herbertsson. Whereas his 2018 album ANTI-CLOCK was a continuous collage of musical snippets, found sounds and wordless narration, his new album Ulrika is a carefully composed and arranged clutch of contemplative, acoustically driven pop songs with jazzy underpinnings. Yet, while being almost diametrical opposites in terms of execution, the two albums share Petter’s signature chord progressions and the ability to aurally teleport you to unknown worlds. On ANTI-CLOCK that world may have been a post Tower-of-Babel chaos where language has broken down, whereas we on the new album are invited into the thoughts of Ulrika, a girl seemingly in her teens, captured on a photographic triptych by artist Mats B in a 1973 issue of Swedish underground culture publication Vargen, as she ponders trivial everyday things such as rain, the colour green and buttons.

The final commonality between these otherwise very different albums is that they are, simply put, utterly brilliant. Unfortunately, brilliance is no longer a good yardstick for gaging success. In 2023 when a Spotify “stream” is measured as 30 seconds of music and songs just contain filler for the rest of their duration, brilliant pop music has been driven underground. This implies not only the loss of good mainstream tunes, but sadly also the societal loss of the transformative power of music. Luckily, for those wanting more than a product to mark time for their workout or drown out the noise of their commute, the underground remains vibrant. Petter is a case in point. As a leader for avant-pop group Testbild! over the course of twenty years, he has made some of the most consistently beautiful and creative music to ever come out of Sweden. Eight albums of catchy experimentalism with consistently abysmal sales. An album made together with somewhat more well-known pop auteur Louis Philippe as Ocean Tango sold slightly better but two or three or even four times nearly nothing still equals nearly nothing.

Unsurprisingly then, Petter’s pop, although never rowdy to start with, has become more contemplative and less immediate. By letting us vicariously inhabit the thoughts of the (imaginary?) girl Ulrika with childhood memories stretching well into the 1950s, he carries us on crackly AM airwaves into a sepia toned late night waking dreamworld, not unlike what Paddy McAloon does on I Trawl The Megahertz. But whereas McAloon employs a narrator to convey his sentiments, here the narrative is carried by the delicately frail lyrics, juxtaposing words with equal measures of inspiration, invention and nostalgia. Beautifully sung by Petter himself with the eminent support of Siri af Burén; jointly they exert magical soft power.

And although this album is the sort of masterpiece that stands on its own without the need for a multitude of references, I nevertheless need to sneak in one to Sean O’Hagan, particularly on a track like “Detta alternativa segel”.

But picking highlights is needless, as Petter’s quality control is impeccable throughout and the music effortlessly carries the listener to final highlight “Ekfras” (a word derived from Greek for a work of art depicting another work of art) with the lyrics impressionistically telling the story of the inspiration for the album.

While ANTI-CLOCK remains my favourite album of recent years — maybe in close competition with Tom OC Wilson’s equally unique Tell A Friend — Ulrika is my top pick for album of the year.

Frabjous Days – The Secret World Of Godley & Creme 1967-1969

Here at long last is Godley & Creme’s lost Marmalade LP, intended to have been released in 1969 as Frabjoy and Runcible Spoon, resurrected by the Grapefruit label and collected with their other late 60s material.

The CD starts with a rustic take on ‘Im Beside Myself’, replete with Jew’s harp, banjo and harmonica, a sound surprisingly similar to their final 1988 LP Goodbye Blue Sky although they had been all over the musical map in between. ‘Chaplin House’, about a student lodging in Stoke-on-Trend where Godley went to art school comes next. Godley’s angelic falsetto takes centre stage, and it is abundantly clear why Marmalade label honcho Giorgio Gomelsky wanted to make an LP with these guys. This track, together with the even more amazing ‘Cowboys and Indians’ and the equally convincing ‘It’s The Best Seaside In The World’ were included in Kevin Godley’s digital 2015 memoir, Spacecake. Tech savvy readers could extract the tracks as low bitrate MP3s, but here they are presented in high quality – and boy do they ever sound good!

The final three tracks from the LP sessions, ‘Fly Away’, ‘Take Me Back’ and ‘Today’ would later appear on the 1970 Hotlegs LP, but are already fully formed and simply breathtaking despite being just rough mixes. The original take of ‘To Fly Away’ released as a Godley solo track on the 1969 Marmalade album sampler 100° Proof is also included but unfortunately suffers somewhat in comparison as the sound quality isn’t as good. In addition, the spunky Graham Gouldman track ‘The Late Mr. Late’ from the same sampler also appears, under the pretext that Godley is on backing vocals, together with two hitherto unpublished Gouldman demos with Godley on lead vocals. While definitely of interest, these Gouldman penned tracks can’t really hold a candle to the Godley & Creme originals.

Frabjoy and Runcible Spoon only ever released one single, and obviously it is included here. It couples a less rustic version of ‘I’m Beside Myself’ with the beautifully frail ‘Animal Song’ that certainly would have fitted on the LP even though from a session a few months earlier.

To wrap up, there is the 1967 single from the very first Godley & Creme venture, The Yellow Bellow Room Boom together with an unreleased acetate. All four songs are very good, though not of the Frabjoy and Runcible Spoon sessions recording quality. The package is rounded out with what may have been the last collaboration before before Godley & Creme got fully immersed in the Strawberry Studios activities. Commissioned by the Blinkers club as a promo single for their activities, it couples the throwaway ‘Hello Blinkers’ jingle already made available on the Bubble Rock Is Here To Stay compilation with a real gem of a B-side where Godley’s pitch perfect voice once again is to the fore.

A landmark release meticulously compiled and annotated by David Wells that should appeal to any lovers of 60s music while being a dream come true for 10cc fans.

Beyond The Pale Horizon – The British Progressive Pop Sounds Of 1972

Why, in the age of streaming, should you even bother buying a CD box set? As far as I am concerned, Grapefruit Records have found the answer. It is all about the accompanying booklet.

Whereas analogue LPs might be bought on the grounds of the cover art and the (questionable) quality experience of having to turn sides after 20 minutes, a digital CD might not improve much on a lossless stream from Tidal or (soon) Apple Music. But with Grapefruit label owner David Well’s incredibly well-researched and insightful liner notes in your hands, the listening experience turns into a kaleidoscopic discovery journey. Yes, they really are that good. And the stories here constantly point you to side quests, prompting you to discover music way beyond the box set itself.

For me, this time round, the major discovery was the track ‘Once Upon A Dream’ by Rusty. I have long had their 1972 acetate test press on my Discogs wish list but have not come across a copy. Not only is the song included here a fabulous late 60s sounding Beatlesque psychedelic pop song, but it turns out that Cherry Red have made the whole album available for streaming as well, and to my surprise, it is a fully realised pop album in the same vein: some of the tracks are all the way up there with the nugget included here. The streamed album is a straight vinyl rip, vinyl clicks and all, and the first track is even full of digital jitter and transfer errors, so let us hope that Grapefruit eventually gets around to issuing a properly treated CD release!

Although I have a tendency to go down a rabbit hole, I should point out that this box set is not only for nerds. It caters expertly to listeners who are interested in getting an idea of what was going on not only in the charts of 1972 but also beyond them.

Many of the big names of the day are here, such as Thin Lizzy, The Moody Blues, Slade, Mott the Hoople, Roxy Music, even Yes. And, importantly, reading about them sheds new light on their music. Take Barclay James Harvest for example. Did you know that they released a single under the pseudonym Bombadil? Read all about it here.

Still, it is the lesser known contributions that draw me in. Some of them are totally new to me, such as the fabulous Ray Davis-penned ‘Nobody’s Fool’ by Cold Turkey or the wonderful soft psychedelia of ‘Birds Must Learn To Fly’ by the strangely named Rocky Cabbage or the magical ‘I Am… I Think’ by the even more strangely named group Grobbert & Duff. Fantastic stuff!

Then there are some thankful additions to my collection, such as the single that Rockin’ Horse made under the Atlantis pseudonym. I already had the A-side ‘I Ain’t Got Time’ on another compilation but was very happy to finally get to hear the Campbell rocker on the B-side, ‘Teddy Boyd’s Rock ‘N’ Roll Show’.

Another true highlight is the McCartneyesque ‘Maybe I’m Lost Without You’ by Neil Harrison. While I have this lost gem on the original single, the sound here is better, indicating the possibility that it might come from a recovered master tape. That idea in itself is a tantalising proposition: Neil recorded more songs during his time with Southern Music, and might this lead to a chance that they tapes still exist??

However, it seems that even David Wells can get his facts wrong at rare occasions, as he writes that Neil Harrison was involved in the 1977 Jabberwock single ’Sneakin’ Snaky’, which is not true. I contacted Neil, who wasn’t even aware of the realease of this compilation, to double check, and he says: “It must have been some other Neil Harrison.”

I could ramble on forever about this compilation, but I will not distract you any longer from going out to buy it now!

Misophone compilation avoids repeated sounds

When putting on And So Sinks The Sun On A Broken Sea, my immediate reaction was: “Wow, Misophone haven’t really changed much since I first heard them a long long time ago!” But then I realised that this is a compilation, and the first track on there is indeed from a long long time ago, more exactly from their 2007 debut album, released on the Swedish Kning Disk label. A great record I must say, that bookends this compilation while pointing to the titular water theme.

Amazingly, although featuring songs from across their career, this compilation works incredibly well as an album. In fact, it has prompted me to seek out and buy all of this intriguing English duo’s original albums – and I can’t give you a better recommendation than that! (Unfortunately, physical copies of their two albums released on Japanese label Inpartmaint still elude me…)

In case you didn’t know, misophonia is a disorder of decreased tolerance to certain sounds, such as repeated clicking or for example chewing. Hence, Misophone present their music tentatively, as if trying to caress your ears and avoid triggering sudden reactions. The result is a very personal sort of introverted bedroom folk that combines a slow-burning knack for pop melody with a steampunky mix of timeless found sounds and Victorian music hall atmospherics.

But as if even such soft treading can in itself become repetitive and trigger misophonia, they also suddenly change gear, as on “Ghost of right wing America”, probably my favourite track here, with its discordant circus comp.

Paul, Ram On!

Paul & Linda McCartney’s album ‘Ram’ was released on May 17th, 1971. At that time I was 9 years old and more or less the only real pop song single I had was by a fake group, the Monkees. (Don’t get me wrong, I love the Monkees to this day.) My dad’s classical music influence was still shielding me off from the Beatles – and I was happily unaware of the abuse music journalists were heaping on Paul McCartney for his second solo album. Paul was to blame for everything that had gone wrong with the Beatles, and on top of that he was a wussy whereas John Lennon was a cool dude. And how dared he make such silly pop music!

Three years later I was equally unaware of how, as a result of all the critical scorn and abuse, McCartney had turned his back on the album and moved on. Around that time, I spent increasingly much time at the home of a school friend where lax circumstances allowed us – and my school friend’s older brother – to do pretty much anything we pleased.

The older brother was into hard rock. I remember albums from Nazareth, Kiss, Led Zeppelin and Blue Öyster Cult. We were not allowed to put on his records when he wasn’t there as he said we’d damage them. However, he had a couple of albums that were too soft for him to bother about anymore, so we could play those. One of them was ‘Ram’ by Paul and Linda McCartney. We played that ever so often in the background while hanging about in the almost cave-like room in the cellar where the record player was. This was an exciting room to be in back then, because there where cigarettes lying about, and also quite often bottles of beer or wine that my friend’s older brother had left there.

But eventually, I did start noticing the music of ‘Ram’. And at some point, it became a more important reason for me to want to spend time in that cellar than the forbidden smell of tobacco. Obviously, I had listened to a lot of other pop music before then, but it mainly was singles and hit song oriented radio programs. I had an album by the New Seekers of Eurovison Song Contest fame, and even ‘Headquarters’ by the Monkees, but ‘Ram’ was the first album that I truly got hooked on.

And boy, did I get hooked.

We spent most afternoons in my friend’s place – and I insisted on wanting to play the album all the time. Soon, everyone refused to let me put it on agan, and the older brother let me take it home and listen instead, since he didn’t care about the LP anyway. I still have that battered copy and I love it as much to this day. Together with ‘How Dare You’ by the 10cc, it became the measure of all other records. While I have added a couple of more albums (including an album or two by that other group Paul McCartney used to be in, the Beatles) to that list of essential cornerstones since then, ‘Ram’ remains very much at the centre.

While my appreciation of ‘Ram’ hasn’t changed one bit over the year, the way the rest of the world thinks of it has. It is no longer an ugly duckling, but instead a full-fledged swan, viewed by many critics as Macca’s best post-Beatles album. And while it was accused of not having any good tunes (for example by Ringo) back then, now it is hailed for the beautiful melodies it has always had. And while it was scorned for being simplistic (such as John Lennon comparing it to muzak), these days it is praised not only for its ambitious compositions, but also for its overall sophistication – particularly by those who actually listen to it and realise that while the cover art depicts life on the farm in Scotland, this is in fact not an amateur home recording like the 1970 ‘McCartney’ album was, but instead was recorded with session musicians in New York (including guitarist David Spinozza who would then ironically be hired by Lennon to play on his ‘Mind games’ album). The album also had orchestral scores by George Martin recorded by the New York Philharmonic with Paul conducting, and was meticulously mixed by Eirik Wangberg, who among working with everyone else of note also co-produced the Beach Boys ‘Smile’ sessions as well as the ‘Smiley Smile’ album.

That is not to say that ‘Ram’ isn’t full of silliness, because as every great pop album of course it is.

The title track, or maybe more correctly title ditty, isn’t called ‘Ram’ but instead ‘Ram On’ as in Macca’s one-time stage name with the Silver Beatles, Paul Ramon. And he also recorded the full album in a cheesy orchestral easy-listening version, although it wasn’t to see the light until six years later, as ‘Thrillington’.

Still – and most likely due to the incredibly low status it was initially given by all the cool people in the industry – McCartney has avoided it like the plague when it comes to live performances. It has instead been up to other artists to honour the album on the stage. More specifically, Tim Christensen and Mike Viola played ‘Ram’ in full from start to finish as a one-off tribute concert at Vega in Copenhagen to celebrate Macca’s on the very day he turned 70th. It was released as ‘Pure McCartney’ a year later. I remember interviewing Tim about that concert and he said that Sir Paul McCartney had indeed been invited to the party, although he for some reason had not shown up…

And now, it has become time to celebrate the 50th birthday of ‘Ram’. Certified Beatles superfan, and well-known and all-round LA musical scenester Frank Perdomo together with original ‘Ram’ album session drummer (who went on to play on ‘Wings Wild Life’ and ‘Red Rose Speedway’) have recreated ‘Ram’ in full, from start to finish as a studio album, with help from a lot of artists. David Spinozza plays all his original guitar parts, and Marvin Stamm reprises his flugelhorn on ‘Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey’. Other guests include Brian Wilson’s daughter Carnie Wilson, Joe Santiago from the Pixies, Dave Depper from Death Cab For Cutie and a host of others. Fittingly, this tribute album is adopts the longer title, ‘Ram On’.

Oh, and it wouldn’t be a 50th anniversary without a 50th anniversary edition, so just in case you still actually do not own a copy of this essential album, you can pick up a half-speed mastered vinyl edition a few days before the actual birthday party starts. I know I will be celebrating on May 17th – and maybe, finally, Paul will too!

Faerie tales from Seelie Court

In the UK, you did not have to pay sales tax if you only pressed 99 copies of an album. As a result, the private press scene could exist almost as a parallell world next to the major labels. Today, most originals are extremely expensive, but their scarcity has also generated interest in wider circles, making reissues possible if not exactly popular.

For a long time, Tenth Planet (and its corresponding CD label Wooden Hill) was my favourite acetate reissue label. But as of last year, I may just have a new favourite, Seelie Court. Only a handfull LPs have been relesed so far but as many as 50 LPs are allegedly already lined up for release. Given the quality of the first batch of releases, I certainly will buy all of them, and I think you should too. Let us take a look.

In Scottish folklore, faeries are divided into the Seelie and Unseelie spirits. The Unseelie Court contains the malicious faeries and in the Seelie Court we find the more beneficently inclined ones. But it is advisable not to relax altogether, because they can still be dangerous. And this certainly fits with the music the label is releasing. These releases are said to be sourced mainly from a private collection of super rare and often completely unknown British acetate and private pressings, and there are indeed some jaw-dropping finds here.

First out on Seelie Court, with catalogue number SCLP001 we find Across The Water, recorded in 1975 by two university friends who made one side each and then pressed only two acetate copies. For me the winner here is the first side, taken up by a wistful and surprisingly complex suite that combines classical and progressive elements. Written by Peter McKerrow and inspired by his experiences counting sheep on the island of St. Kilda as a 16 year old, it is quite mesmerising. The B-side, made by his Canadian friend longing for home is also nice, but in the singer-songwriter vein and less unique.

SCLP002 was originally issued in only 50 copies on the S.R.T. (Sound Recording Technology) label that was originally started as Sky Records with involvement from Jethro Tull members. Sandalwood was a girl duo who made their Sandalwood album in 1971 and then promptly disappeared like faerie spirits in the night. If you like soft and beautifully sung acoustic folk, this is worth checking out!

However, it is really with the astounding third release that the Seelie Court label really starts living up to its name. Mysterious and draped in pagan mood, Anaconda’s 1969 ‘Sympathy For The Madman’ was where Michalakis Stelios Sergides went after he left Arcadium due to musical differences with Robert Ellwood that surfaced during their recording of their great ‘Breathe Awhile’ LP. Anaconda’s music is maybe less epic but much darker. With beautiful flutes, violins and vocals it is being likened to a more sane Comus, a description as good as any. Only one acetate is known to exist, so this thoroughly mouth-watering reissue is a must have item.

Next up is a much heavier affair, recorded by unknown artists in the Beck Studios in Northampton around 1969. Although there is more than a touch of blues to this, I must confess to being blown away by some of the musical interplay and the imaginative guitar playing (particularly on third and longest track ‘Waking’). But the real killer here is definitely the final track ‘See me’ with female lead vocals and blissed out yet heavy comp.

If I were to pick up only one of these LPs, it would have to be SCLP005, the self-titled Flux album. Recorded live on a BBC Mobile Unit in 1973, this music is nevertheless a true revelation, in fact almost defining a genre all of its own. It starts with a totally over-the-top frenetic jazzy instrumental, dominated by band-leader John Grimaldi’s quicksilver guitar assault. But as if this incendiary mixture of jazz and prog was not enough, the almost Greg Lake-like vocals on second track ‘Atonal’ turns this into an instant classic. *Flux’ is the best prog LP I have heard in many years. Don’t bore yourself with yet another King Crimson reissue, get this instead!

After former Tenth Planet label boss David Wells released Lifeblud tracks in compilations on his current Grapefruit Records imprint, I was extremely curious to hear their 1970 acetate LP ‘Esse Quam Videri’, made in only 3 copies. While less progressive pop oriented than expected and more in the prog folk vein, it nevertheless doesn’t disappoint. Melancholic, highly poetic and very tuneful, it sounds less naive than many of its peers, while retaining an air of natural mysticism. As far as I understand, Lifeblud recorded more acetates with a heavier sounds, and I really hope they will be released on Seelie Court as well.

Whereas catalogue number SCLP007 is reserved for the self-titled prog rock masterpiece Grannie, that has been delayed for unknown reasons. Instead, SCLP008 is currently the latest release currently available for purchase, and John Strang’s “The Masterpeace” turns out to be another amazing jaw-dropper. A concept album recorded in 1968 by the then 17-year-old Strang about nuclear armageddon and total annihilation, its pitch-black lyrics and experimental interludes take the psychedelic folk genre into new territories. Strang was later knighted for his work in psychiatry but made an aborted LP for Transatlantic in the early 70s, which allegedly will also be released on Seelie Court at some point in the future!

Another twelve albums are currently slated for release on the Seelie Court label this spring. Some of them have been delayed twice already, so if and when they will actually be available is anyone’s guess. We can only hope that the faerie tale will continue!

(This text is also pulished in Japanese at http://daysoff-column.blog.jp/archives/9253916.html)

Best archival album of Q1 2021

Rascal Reporters – Redux vol 2: Rascals Revenge and The Great Reset

Although this album is based on recordings from the 1970s, and some of those even have been published previously, this is not a simple reissue although it is based on archival material.

In fact this is so great that I would like to invent a new genre for it: how about post-archival?

Just like the Rascal Reporters ‘Redux vol 1’ release from 2019 ,the addition in particular of drums turns these tracks into something completely different. Just like on that volume, the drummer is James Strain and his drumming is as maximalist as everything else here. Memorising the near infinite twists and turns here is a herculean task, but he does it with apparent lightness and not the slightest sign of strain.

Although this album is being compared to Egg and other Canterbury bands on the Bandcamp site, there is also mention that it turns into something else entirely. I think that is an ample characterisation; it combines friendly melodies and soft keyboards with aggressive complexity into a Canterbury-like sound, but then goes off into more tangents than you can shake a trigonometric function at.

This music is so insane that you can only conclude it is genial. Rather than progressive rock, I would call this permissive rock, given that the artists have given themselves permission to break any rule you could imagine.

Dario D’Alessandro from Homunculus Res has provided the cover art as well as some additional synths on the wonderful ‘Egg Soup’ (a snippet of which featured on his second Homunculus Res album), and Bob Drake has done the mastering, so you know you are in good company when listening.

The ten best albums of Q1 2021

OK, so the first quarter of 2021 was really the quarter from post-Brexit hell when it comes to music. When a trade agreement was finally signed between the EU and the UK late last year after much drama and political posturing, I let out a big sigh of relief. As an unashamed anglophile I had been worried that music from the UK would be locked in behind heavy iron toll gates. But now things would be OK.

Thought I.

Instead, the toll gates closed with a little click that was so low that no-one could hear it, rather than slam shut with a bang.

So there I was, happily buying records from the UK on an almost daily basis. A couple of months later, I am still suffering the consequences as some of those records take forever to trickle through corona-impacted distribution and bureaucracy-bloated customs. And for each parcel that gets through, I have to pay a £6.25 (SEK 75) import handling fee plus 25% of whatever value is stated on the parcel. After around 20 parcels, I am taking extreme care not to buy stuff from the UK anymore.

Oh, and even once we get through this pandemic, that guy in the UK who singlehandedly killed music, Boris, has made sure that bands can’t come and play here either, by refusing to negotiate a musicians’ work permit exemption deal with the EU.

But even though shit happens, it seems the show does indeed go on. So here are my favourites from the first three months of 2021, as always in alphabetical order.

Cobalt Chapel – Orange Synthetic

Let us be quite clear from the start: This is a minor masterpiece. The 2017 debut Cobalt Chapel album was already moody and strange, but the strangeness quotient is upped several notches here, such as with the nightmare circus atmosphere of ‘Cry A Spiral’ that leads into the apocalyptic dance of ‘It’s The End, The End’.

Conceptually, the album focuses on Yorkshire. The titular track is about the 1970 Krumlin music festival, which was a complete disaster due to bad, stormy weather. It was staged on a hillside in Yorkshire, and that is also the location of the cover photo; the orange synthetic blankets in the shot replicate those seen on old photos from the festival.

Cobalt Chapel are a duo consisting of Jarrod Gosling and Cecilia Fage. Their music combines psychedelia with folk and touches of kraut. It is inherently rhythmic and primarily keyboard driven – Jarrod is a collector of vintage synths and uses all of them here. But despite the amazingly layered analog sound, the songs themselves sound like the future rather than the past, not least thanks to Cecilia’s stately vocals. Her voice is paradoxically both passionate and somehow slightly aloof.

Compared to earlier albums, ‘Orange Synthetic’ is also closer in style to the sound of Jarrod Gosling’s “prog” band Regal Worm, whose new album is expected later this year!

Cathal Coughlan – Song of Co-Aklan

It has been eleven years since Cathal Coughlan committed his voice to record – and the moment you hear it, you will be painfully aware of how much you have missed it. He has a voice like no-one else, expressive and sullen while somehow not coming across as grumpy.

Although I still prefer his work in Microdisney together with Sean O’Hagan to his Fatima Mansions and solo records, the new album is certainly the best thing he has made since those days.

Maybe the renewed inspiration is related to the fact that Coughlan was instrumental in reforming Microdisney for a number of concerts, Not only do some of his old mates appear on this record; the songs are great, there is lots of drama in the arrangements, and the intense lyrics are filled to the brim with chaotic pictures expressing the life of alter-ego Co-Aklan.

The high point on the album is probably ‘The Knockout Artist’, what a pop song! It is also great to hear Sean O’Hagan contributing some synth on it. O’Hagan reappears on the closing track ‘Unrealtime’, this time on vocals.

A real keeper.

William Doyle – Great Spans Of Muddy Time

I was never a big fan of East India Youth although that was William Doyle in everything but name. However, his first proper solo album ‘Your Wilderness Revisited’ totally and absolutely floored me, and I included it on my 10 best albums of Q4 2019 list.

Whereas that was a perfectionist album in every sense, William Doyle is now back with something quite different.

His hard disc crashed and he then had to piece together the album based on cassette copies that he had made. Or at least that is how the story goes, because who really backs their recordings up on cassette these days? Whatever the truth is, these songs are definitely more spontaneous, and definitely represent something that is a bit muddier timewise. Initially, you don’t notice, as the two opening tracks are crisp and pretty great pop songs. But then you are thrown into something that sounds more like a collage. There are more good pop songs further into the album but there are interspersed with more experimental – or maybe I should rather say unfocused – pieces.

Apart from the track ‘Semi-bionic’, which literally starts out sounding like a hard disc crashing, the sound quality on the album isn’t muddy or full of tape hiss, but you definitely get the feel that some of tracks aren’t still finished. While that does lend the album an air of spontaneity, it also makes for a somewhat stumbling listening experience. But when it clicks, it is clear that Doyle’s sense for melody combined with ambient drama is intact!

Ed Dowie – The Obvious I

It has been four years since Ed Dowie’s debut album ‘The Uncle Sold’. I liked that very much and although maybe his new album is a little less experimental, I like it every bit as much. With arrangements very much designed to lift Ed’s strong voice to the fore, it plays like a synth pop album for those of us who never liked synth pop albums. It is all here, sampled instruments, blips and blurbs, programmed drums and more. But done with restraint and a sense for the rather straightforward songs on the album.

And while there are many layered sounds here, they never unnecessarily take over the soundstage, allowing for much space between instruments, sometimes even creating a cavernous yet simultaneously clear sound for the vocals to inhabit.

So whereas there are clear homages to the sounds of the 80s here, and the 8-bit cover art had me worried, Dowie has delivered a powerful album of gentle pop that really shines.

Floating Points, Pharoah Sanders & the London Symphony Orchestra – Promises

This is continuous piece for saxophone, strings, keyboards and electronics composed by Sam Shepherd, aka Floating Points, really made me sit up and listen from the get go. There is a luxurious smoothness to this take on jazz symphony that made me feel almost like when I heard Neil Ardley’s ‘A Symphony Of Amaranths’ the first time. Sadly, ‘Promises’ doesn’t continue to develop thematically like that album, but rather tries to sustain its opening magic.

In a way, this album’s strength is also its weakness. Based on joint sessions in the USA with the inimitable tenor saxophonist Pharoah Sanders and Shepherd on piano, the latter has then embellished the tapes with keyboards and strings played by the LSO back home in the UK. The good thing is that Shepherd’s keyboard layers and electronic treatments are masterful and really lift the devotional tone of the composition to the fore – while the bad thing is that it becomes very much Shepherd, and Sanders’ contribution is almost reduced to that of session player.

And speaking of being reduced, the other 30-40 musicians here comprising the string section of the London Symphony Orchestra feel almost like an indulgence on Shepherd’s part; surely with his synthesiser skills, Shepherd could have done this on his computer using a sample library like Spitfire Symphonic Strings?

Chlöe Herrington – Silent Reflux

Although bassoon and sax player Chlöe Herington has been active as a recording artist since 2003 when she started out in Angel Racing Food together with Jowe head, this is her first solo album. I must admit that I didn’t buy the Angel Racing Food album until after having discovered her playing with Kavus Torabi in Knifeworld and started tracing her through various bands including the inimitable Chrome Hoof and her more recent and playful VÄLVĒ project.

Her solo album, however, is very much a reflux in the sense that it represents a turn back; not only back to a series of recurring dreams Chloe had as a child, but also back to the feel of a 70s solo album made by someone on time off from an art rock band like Henry Cow. The dream states are surprisingly tangible and as a listener you get the feeling of being moved outside the flow of time. A wonderful album!

Simon McKechnie – Retro

They don’t make prog rock albums like this anymore. So this is the exception that proves the rule. Here we have long songs with many sections, conceptual lyrical themes, guitar solos, instrumental workouts… the whole shebang, in other words. But whereas modern prog groups who try to sound like in the good old days either seem to end up with uninteresting pastiche or with a lifeless modern digital sound that doesn’t fit the style, Simon McKechnie somehow manages to get it all right.

It is hard to think of a more bombastic theme to start out with than ‘The Origin of Species’, a 20+ minute track that lays out the whole story by (at least partly) using the words of the great man himself, Charles Darwin.

We then get the title track which almost sounds like it is belying its title by starting with some 80s synth sounds, but soon reveals its old-timey soul.

McKechnie has made a number of albums before this one, but this is his first on Bad Elephant – and I have to say that I only gave this a listen because I like the label. Glad I did, this is great!

The Milk and Honey Band – Songs From Truleigh Hill

Whereas the Milk Milk and Honey Band have always had a pastoral touch and a a love for acoustic instrumentation, there was also a lot of pop energy in the arrangements. But here, Robert White has stripped down the “band” to a solo effort with only piano acoustic guitar and voice, and slowing everything down to a snail’s pace in the process. The result is beautiful and just what is needed for times like these. As I continue to pass my days in enforced isolation, listening to this album makes the claustrophobia recede and the stillness around me seem much more comforting.

While never explicit, there is a life-affirming warmth to the songs despite the sadness of some of the lyrics. And while the minimalistic arrangements do their best to hide it, there is still a lot of pop in these songs, so while it takes a couple of listens longer than usual, eventually you can’t help but hum along!

Truleigh Hill is one of the highest points in the South Downs chalk hills, and I suppose the slow-mo drama of that place is what the music is reflecting. Robert White certainly has come a long way from his noisy beginnings in Levitation. But, surprisingly, the album really lends itself to be played at really high volume – something which also helps blow away some of the stress of continued lockdown. So tune in, and turn up!

Portable Radio – Portable Radio

The Junipers are one of my favourite contemporary psych pop bands. Unfortunately, nothing has been heard from them since they made their brilliant third album ‘Red Bouquet Fair’ five years ago. Since then band member Robyn Gibson has kept us entertained with his wonderful Bob of the Pops album series of covers. But it is great to see that he is finally together back with a psych pop band that does originals.

The Portable Radio album is one of those that you are almost by default expected to introduce as “nothing new under the sun” while immediately balancing this by saying “but it doesn’t matter, when it is this good”. While that may be an example of pop journalism cliché, it certainly holds true in this case.

Already album opener and single cut ‘Hot Toddy’ sweeps you away with a summery feeling of love and beautiful harmonies. The quality is sustained throughout and even though the album was pieced together separately by the members due to the pandemic, it sounds incredibly organic. Colour me impressed!

So here you are, Beatlesque pop, filtered through a love for Brian Wilson but reflected trough a lockdown prism. You know you want it.

TT Reuter – IV

40 years after ‘III’, which was a live album, and 41 years after their masterpiece ‘Sång, Dans, Sex’, ‘IV’ is finally here. Recorded with three of the band’s original members back in 2015, but never finished when guitarist Peter Puders sadly died in 2017, only 58 years old.

A few years earlier, the band had started playing live again and I remember hearing some of the tracks on this album back then mixed in with older material. Back then, I was amazed at how well they fit in with their classic early material. Hearing the studio versions now, they still manage to stand well on their own, and Puders’ guitar playing is heavily featured throughout.

Some tracks in particular shine, namely ‘Vem äger rymden?’ which was released as a single, and the two long tracks ending the album; ‘Cabal’ and ‘Se dig inte om igen’. These tracks alone were absolutely worth the long wait. TT Reuter are back!

10 great reissues / archival releases 2020

Reissues these days tend to be very much focused on putting out what is already available on CD out on vinyl. Sorry, but that doesn’t do for me. I am more interested in unreleased tracks or new mixes or versions and new fact-filled liner notes than if it comes on a larger or smaller disc. That is probably also why I tend to gravitate towards releases from Grapefruit Records, headed by David Wells. All of his releases deliver something new, and they are always impeccably researched and compiled.

Luckily, there were some significant releases on other labels as well!

Be Bop Deluxe – Axe Victim (Esoteric Recordings)

‘Axe Victim’ from 1974 is one of my favourite debut albums of all time. Bill Nelson had already released a solo album a couple of years earlier, but this was something completely different. Steeped in the Roxy Music and David Bowie mannerisms of the era while remaining more epic, it existed in a glamprog bubble of its own. Nelson would reconfigure Bop Deluxe after this album’s release and return with one of the decade’s most stylish albums the year after, but the sheer audaciousness this debut still gets my neck hairs to stand on end.

The 3CD/DVD box set adds lots of interesting material, including a hitherto thought lost 1973 Peel session, and a great 5.1 surround mix. However, delivering that mix heavily compressed as plain old DTS on a DVD Video disc while claiming that it is a DVD Audio disc is ignorant at best. People who buy this expensive deluxe set are real fans, and they deserve a Blu-ray disc with full and uncompressed surround.

Cardiacs – Vermin Mangle (Alphabet Business Concern)

Everything else here is an album or a 24 disc box set, and this is just one song available only for download or streaming. But in importance and stature it is just as important.

‘Vermin Mangle’ comes from the hitherto otherwise unreleased sessions for the Cardiacs album that Tim Smith was working on in 2008. But then he suddenly suffered a debilitating heart attack that rendered him unable to do more work and would ultimately lead to his untimely death on 21st July 2020, aged only 59. The song was released as an homage to the great man on the day of his funeral.

As a piece of music ‘Vermin Mangle’ is utterly captivating. Listening to it feels almost like entering Tim Smith’s mind. Circus crazy maybe, but also serious and grand.

Tim was one of the true geniuses of modern music, and this track serves as a worthy reminder.

The Divine Comedy – Venus, Cupid, Folly & Time (Divine Comedy Records)

I remember picking up ‘Promenade’ as a limited edition with an extra CD of live performances on a trip to London in 1994, and immediately being convinced it was the best album since Prefab Sprout’s ‘Swoon’ a decade earlier. And although I like a lot of the Divine Comedy albums, it is really that album and *Liberation’, the debut on Irish indie label Setanta from the previous year that are the true classics. And what makes this box set so special is that you get previously unreleased demos as well as single B-sides related to those two albums. And to all the other albums as well of course…

Sadly though, several important tracks are still missing from this huge box, most notably the Michael Nyman covers of ‘Miranda’, ‘Chasing Sheep Is Best Left To Shepherds’, ‘Time Lapse’ and ‘Knowing the Ropes’. I am sure there were some licensing issues, but it is a pity, since the Michael Nyman influence is such an important part of what became the unique Divine Comedy sound.

The Idle Race – The Birthday Party (Grapefruit Records)

Eveyone knows ‘Mr. Blue Sky’. the Beatlesque hit by E.L.O. from their 10 million copy selling ‘Out Of The Blue’ album. But very few seem to know or care that Jeff Lynne actually started his career by making a whole album full of ‘Mr. Blue Sky’ soundalikes that are just as Beatlesque and whimsical.

‘The Birthday Party’ has been so neglected that the only previous proper CD reissue is the 2007 Japanese paper sleeve edition; other than that it has always been reissued as a twofer together with the more uneven self-titled 1969 follow-up, or in some other compilation context. For this reason, it is great that David Wells has now assembled a definitive CD reissue for his ever-excellent Grapefruit label.

Neil Innes – How Sweet To Be An Idiot (Grapefruit Records)

Although Neil Innes is sadly gone, we now live in a world that needs him more than ever.

Just before his death, he was working with Grapefruit on the definitive and much needed reissue of his debut album, ‘How Sweet To Be An Idiot’. This album is shock full of Innes’ carefree charm and warm humour, and, if you have a bit of patience with the first few songs, it offers up some absolutely cracking Beatlesque pop songs.

The original B-side is particularly great, serving up one pop wonder after the other. Fittingly, the side begins with the title track, and what a masterful song it is; starting with the heartfelt lyric about the idiot, then changing tack and turning into something from Sgt Pepper.

You need an idiot with a duck on his head and a piano. Maybe you just don’t know it.

Jason Crest – A Place In The Sun (Grapefruit Records)

Hailing from Kent, although not in any way related to what is called the Canterbury scene, Jason Crest debuted with the great single ‘Turquoise Tandem Cycle’ in 1968 and thus belonged to the psychedelic era, although they managed to miss its peak. Still, they would make their indelible stamp on pop history with their final single in late 1969: ‘A Place In The Sun’ was a wistful and beautiful period piece, and on the B-side was the hauntingly dark yet flippant ‘Black Mass’. An altogether amazing single.

This reissue also contains a handful of equally great yet unpublished-at-the-time tracks as well as somewhat less interesting later radio sessions. Although all of it has been released on Grapefruit label manager David Well’s previous labels Wooden Hill and Tenth Planet, this is the first time everything has been gathered in one place. Essential.

Anthony Moore – Out (Drag City Records)

A solo album by Anthony Moore’s first was set to be released in 1976 on Virgin, but was dropped due to management changes at Virgin before release. It is a surprisingly catchy and well-produced art pop album that is at odds with his Slapp Happy / Henry Cow collaborations of the previous year. One might have expected a more underground-bound album from him at this stage, not least considering that his previous solo album from 1972 was a minimalist neo-classical affair, but in reality Moore was quite eager to shake off some of the restraints that the Henry Cow experience had put on him. Working with Peter Jenner as a producer, he came up with a set of odd yet hummable ditties that almost felt like something Kevin Ayers could have made at the time (and he indeed guests in bass guitar on the track ‘Please Go’, which, by the way, also happens to be arranged by David Bedford).

The album wast was eventually released on Voiceprint in 1997, as a low cost affair typical for that rather confounding label, with different cover art since the original was thought lost, and also with some of the tracks in wrong order. But a package containing the complete Hipgnosis artwork that had been send to CBS Japan back in the day has now resurfaced, and it is great to see the album finally issued in the way that was originally intended.

Brian Protheroe – The Albums 1974-76 (7T’s Records)

Generally, I would recommend against buying a whole box set just for one song. But in the case of Brian Protheroe, that is of course perfectly OK – especially since that song is a session out-take from his brilliant 1974 debut album ‘Pinball’. And if you don’t have ‘Brian’s Big Box’ from 1996 that compiled his three first albums on the Dutch label Basta, you get all of them here: You don’t only get that debut album, but also the even better follow-up ‘Pick-Up’ from 1975 and the absolutely classic 1976 album ‘I/You’.

Unfortunately, though, the CD with unreleased material that was included on the Basta box is not here. Although that disc is not as good as the albums, and probably contains songs from later in the decade, it is nevertheless worth seeking out once you have become a proper fan.

In any case, if you like quirky and convoluted mid-70s pop from bands like 10cc, then Brian Protheroe is an absolute must. This compilation is currently the best point of entry.

Tea and Symphony – The English Baroque Sound 1968-1974 (Ace Records)

This is a great and must-have release, but also a very confusing one. The confusing thing is that it has almost exactly the same title as the he 2007 release ‘Tea and Symphony – The English Baroque Sound 1967–1974’. Spot the difference! The two releases even variations on the same artwork…

The original was released on Castle Music, a label that went down together with its parent Sanctuary and is now near impossible to find. Even more confusingly, only four tracks are overlapping between the two releases, making both of them absolutely essential stuff for those of us who think that Mike Batt’s 1968 single B-side ‘Fading Yellow’ is one of the best pop songs ever made. At least this new release includes that track as a first-ever official reissue…

Now don’t hesitate, go get this fantastic CD before it also becomes a highly sought after collectable!

Twenty-Five Views of Worthing – 25 (Wind Waker Records)

Some people say that there is no such thing as a Canterbury sound, as it is quite diverse and a lot of the key people involved in that scene weren’t even from Kent. But I would be happy to settle that dispute by defining that sound as anything that sounds like this record. Although Twenty-Five Views of Worthing did actually support Caravan at the Vanbrugh College in May 1972, they are from Watford, north-east of London. But as can be heard on these previously unreleased tracks recorded using downtime at Island’s Basing Street Studio in late -72 and early -73, they play complex music without taking themselves too seriously, and combine sweet melodies with a touch of absurd humour.

The LP ends with a self-released 1977 EP recorded by a quite different lineup of the band, which is equally good.