Album Reviews

The Cure “Seventeen Seconds” (1980)

What a difference a year can make! Released only 11 months after the rather straightforward post-punk of Three Imaginary Boys, Robert Smith and company completely reinvent their sound and deliver one of the defining albums of the gothic rock movement. The songs here are bare and carefully measured, with little trace of the distorted wall-of-sound that would dominate later efforts like Pornography. Where Seventeen Seconds is very similar to those later releases is via the somber lyrics and the vocal delivery itself, which routinely take a backseat to the arrangements and rarely structures itself into a verse/chorus format. So if you enjoy the atmospheric slow-building side of the Cure, you’ll probably love this album. I personally consider it to be among the best in the Cure discography, rivaling the likes of Faith and Disintegration.

Despite a similar musical approach as Faith and Pornography, I find far more standout tunes on Seventeen Seconds. The entire back half of the album is nearly flawless. “A Forest” is particularly effective, mixing a haunting ambience with an almost Krautrock-esque driving groove. “Seventeen Seconds” is another personal favorite, although it does feel slightly underdeveloped at ~4 minutes. Gothic rock fans will also undoubtedly adore “Secrets”, “In Your House”, and “At Night”, while “M” should placate listeners starved for a slightly catchier and more upbeat melody. All things considered, one of the finest albums of the early-80’s. —Paul

Wigwam “Fairyport” (1971)

Third album by the Finnish Prog Masters Wigwam, marking the arrival of the group at a point of maturity after the initial period of searching for their unique voice, as reflected on their first two releases. This album is often considered as one of the finest examples of Finnish Prog and together with its follow up “Being” it presents Wigwam as one of Prog’s all time highest achievements. The band’s core: vocalist Jim Pembroke (a British expatriate living in Finland), keyboardist Jukka Gustavson, who was the band’s principal composer, bassist Pekka Pohjola and drummer Ronnie Osterberg are joined by several guest musicians, mainly guitarist Jukka Tolonen, who often cooperated with the band, and woodwind / brass players, including Jazz saxophonists Eero Koivistoinen and Pekka Poyry, expanding the overall sound of the basic quartet. The compositions are all outstanding, moody and full of unexpected turns and twists. Superb instrumental sections allow all musicians to express their talents, often moving into lengthy Jazzy improvisations. Pembroke’s English vocals were a great asset for the group and contributed to their immense popularity outside of Finland. Almost four decades after this material was recorded, it still sounds fresh and exciting, ready to be discovered by new generations of music lovers. Absolutely essential! —Adam

Zuider Zee “Zuider Zee” (1975)

During their existence, Zuider Zee stood as one of Memphis’ more talented (if lesser known) contributions to mid-’70s power-pop. They’re also one of those bands that deserved far greater recognition than they were given. Kim Foreman and Richard Orange originally came together in Louisiana, cutting their first record as members of Thomas Edison’s Electric Light Bulb Band. By 1969 they’d picked up a mentor in the form of manager Leland Russell, along with a new name. Relocating to Memphis, the band started playing local clubs. A 1973 showcase for Elektra failed to score a contract, but within a year they’d recruited a new drummer (Robert Hall) and signed with Columbia.

Their 1975 eleven track debut is a truly engaging set of UK-flavored power-pop. Imagine the best of Badfinger’s Pete Ham, or perhaps 10cc’s Eric Stewart doing their best Paul McCartney impressions and you’ll get a feel for the musical landscape. While “Zuider Zee” may not have been the year’s most original album, the set had more than it’s share of pleasures, including the Rickenbacher-propelled rocker ‘Zeebra’, ‘You’re Not Thinking’ and the slightly ominous Haunter of Darkness”. Normally a Paul McCartney comparison serves as a creative kiss of death, but Orange was among the few guys who could actually pull it off (Emitt Rhodes also readily coming to mind). Orange had a great voice which was particularly appealing on songs like the rocker ‘Rubber Men’ when he employed his raspy edge (imagine McCartney’s vocal on ‘Helter Skelter’). Skeptical of that description? Close your eyes and check out Orange’s truly uncanny McCartney-like deliveries on the rockers ‘She-Swing’ and ‘The Breaks’ (the latter sounding like something from “Band On the Run”). A package of great melodies and excellent guitar made this a pleasure for anyone who enjoyed Badfinger or The Raspberries catalogs.

From a marketing perspective having spent a fortune recording the LP, Columbia’s promotional and marketing scheme was curious. Credit Columbia’s art department with coming up with one of the year’s most unimaginative covers. Columbia decided not to tap the album for a single. Tour support was lukewarm at best, the band opening for a staggering array of acts ranging from Caravan (???) to The Tubes. Coupled with a pseudo-glam image that may have been a tad fey for many mid-1970s American audiences and in an era of punk aggression and disco madness the album vanished without a trace.

The final blow came in December 1976 when bassist Bonar interrupted a group of thieves trying to steal the band’s van. Beaten and stabbed, he was lucky to survive the attack. The band effectively collapsed when the other members refused to continue touring with a replacement while Bonar underwent extensive physical therapy. —Scott Blackerby

Deep Purple “Fireball” (1971)

Deep Purple’s 1971 and 1972 releases were a true one two punch of Deep Purple’s Metallic might at the very height of their prowess. The first, 1971’s Fireball was, outside of Black Sabbath’s first three albums, the heaviest thing on the planet at that time. Fireball’s songs are towering, crunching, Proto-Metal monsters of the highest order. The album is built around one of the greatest songs of Heavy Metal’s original Era, the invincible Demon’s Eye. It’s kind of difficult to discuss the individual musical performance of Fireball because they are all so good. Deep Purple Mark II was a super tight cohesive unit at this point, and everyone in the band is at their individual apex. The Mule is simply incredible. Fools cooks. No One Came is astoundingly good. Anyone’s Daughter is pure fun. And No No No is fantastic. Five utterly perfect stars. —Karl

Blondie “The Hunter” (1982)

Here’s an album waiting for some serious revaluation. The Hunter features several tracks of sheer classic quality, accompanied by lesser ones that still have, without exception, something remarkable to offer – a thing not always achieved by today’s acclaimed albums. “Orchid Club”, “Dragonfly” and “The Beast” are among the most interesting Blondie ever created, experimenting with hypnotic beats and unconventional song structures, hinting – along with “Fade Away and Radiate” from Parallel Lines – toward a parallel-world instance of Blondie as a trancey ambient-techno unit. “Island of Lost Souls” is not a rehash of “Tide Is High”, as some would imply. It’s arguably a better song, with a livelier tune and interesting lyrics. “English Boys” is a beautiful anthem honouring the hoisted flag of Pop Music. “War Child”: a fierce electro-disco with stabs of percussion and wind instruments – again, a faultless track. “For Your Eyes Only”: a cunning stylistic amalgam that could fit nicely among Parallel Lines’ reinventions of ’60s pop. “The Hunter Gets Captured…”, while anticipating Debbie Harry’s future work as a jazz singer, rounds off the record nicely, flashing a light on its undercurrent themes of life as adventure / race / bush warfare. —Redux

Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’77 “Primal Roots” (1972)

As the title suggests, this isn’t another excursion into Brazilian pop. Here, there’s no pandering to Tropicália, disco or whatever was en vogue in 1972 -yes despite being played by the Brasil ’77, the album was actually recorded in 1972 under the alternate title “Raízes.” This is an album of traditional Brazilian music. The compositions feature traditional percussion instruments such as the gogó, cuica, pandeiro and atabaques. Much of the compositions emphasize the African origins of Brazilian music. While “Primal Roots” doesn’t sell out to commercial pressures, it is far from a field recording of traditional music. While some songs feature minimalist chanting and drumming, others feature those silky smooth female vocalists, flutes and some psychedelic keyboard work. Sergio Mendes may never be remembered in the same light as Astrud Gilberto, Airto Moreira and Gilberto Gil but “Primal Roots” will always be remembered as his ‘important album.’ —The Delite Rancher

Barclay James Harvest “Barclay James Harvest” (1970)

A magnificent piece of early symphonic progressive rock with some of the most enduring melodies of all time. Barclay James Harvest’s first album can be categorized somewhere in the Procol Harum and early Moody Blues school of musical thought while still carrying their own personality. In many ways this debut album gives off a rather “Beatles’ish” feel as well; vocals are like velvet with superb musical harmonies and excellent lyrics which seems to fit the music with perfection. Recorded in ’69 and ’70 using only two eight-track machines with the assistance of Robert Godfrey (The Enid), the Barclay James Harvest Orchestra and a mellotron. Trivia buffs might be interesting to note that Jim Litherland (Colosseum) added some guitar brilliance to the opening number “Taking Some Time On”. Although sounding a little dated at times, this is still a tremendous recording which I fondly treasure. —James

Gogo’s “Beauty and the Beat” (1981)

The Go-Go’s’ 1981 debut LP Beauty and the Beat is as aptly titled as it is underrated. Few shiny power pop records are as dark as this one. The record is known primarily for its two big-beat hits “Our Lips Are Sealed” and “We Got the Beat,” two of the early 1980s’ greatest songs. The rest of the album, though, with few exceptions, is much different. After the Shangri-Las’ sounding “How Much More,” Side One takes a darker turn, focusing on the seedy underbelly of Los Angeles nightlife. As such, “Tonite,” “Lust to Love,” and “This Town” succinctly capture the exhaustion of being a scenester and the psychological toll it can take, especially in the superficial world of Hollywood. This tone is maintained on Side Two with “Fading Fast” and “Automatic,” probably the two most morose tracks on the record. From there on out, they return to catchy, bubbly pop in the form of “You Can’t Walk in Your Sleep” and the irresistible closer “Can’t Stop the World.” The reputation of Beauty and the Beat is dampened to a certain extent by outside forces, like the decline in the quality of the Go-Go’s’ music after this album, Belinda Carlisle’s weak solo career, and Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction, which articulates these themes in a far more gritty, blunt manner. Nevertheless, Beauty and the Beat should not be slept on, and is a great early 80s’ power pop record. —Yerblues

The Antiquarian Ear:
A Guide to the British Folk Renaissance

The evolution of folk music in Britain and America in the early to mid-20th century can be viewed as two essentially parallel lines. In both increasingly mechanistic and bureaucratic societies, listeners connected with folk as a more authentic musical expression of being and as a link to the cultures to which their countries’ rapid modernization was laying waste . In late 50’s Britain, it could even be argued that American folk and blues eclipsed that of the British strain in popularity. Indeed, the British Invasion of the following decade could never have been mounted had it not been for skiffle, a hybrid of blues, folk, country, and other indigenous American musical forms embraced by millions of British teenagers—including four certain ones from Liverpool.

But by the late-60’s these two paths would dramatically diverge. Many British musicians began to look less westward and further inward by “getting it together in the country” and seeking solace and inspiration in the myths, folklore, and landscapes of “Albion”, a storied antiquarian world that occupied the collective consciousness of many Britons and whose history stretched back to ancient times. This aesthetic would come to define one of modern Britain’s most fertile musical movements. Peaking in the early 70’s, it passionately and reverently embraced the traditions, heritage, and culture of a much older Britain while doing so with restless, forward-thinking imagination and experimentation. Recently, this movement was finally given the scholarly treatment it deserves in Rob Young’s excellent book, Electric Eden. It’s a must-read for anyone wishing to traverse this mythic soundscape. A few of these definitive selections will also help you begin the odyssey, from which you may never return:

Bert Jansch Jack Orion (1966). With just a guitar, a banjo, his voice, and occasional musical accompaniment from friend and fellow British folk icon John Renbourne, Jansch (who passed away this past autumn) made it clear the endless possibilities inherent in this newly realized version of British folk. Melding traditional Anglo and Celtic musical forms with blues and jazz sensibilities, Jansch laid the template for much of what would come out of Britain over the next few years. Highlights include the title track, a re-imagining of the “Glasgerion” ballad, and a similar reworking of another canonical ballad, “Blackwaterside”, this version of which Jimmy Page would shamelessly pilfer for his own “Black Mountain Side”, which appeared on Led Zeppelin’s 1968 debut.

The Pentangle The Pentangle (1968). This LP marks the first in a string of stunning releases by Britain’s first true “supergroup” comprised of guitarists Bert Jansch and John Renbourne, bassist Danny Thompson, drummer Terry Cox, and vocalist Jacqui MacShee. Their ethereal sound owed just as much to jazz as it did to folk, causing many to refer to it as “folk-jazz”. Whatever categorizations one wants to throw at the Pentangle are ultimately meaningless. Nothing before or since has ever sounded like them, and this album is where it all began.

The Incredible String Band The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter (1968). The ISB’s third album does not receive as many accolades as their second, The 5000 Spirits or Layers of an Onion [read our review], but in terms of adventurousness, risk-taking, and sheer other-worldliness, in the British folk canon The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter is almost without peer. Flush from the success of the aforementioned second LP, members Mike Heron and Robin Williamson utilized complex multi-tracking recording techniques and a large assortment of exotic acoustic and electric instruments to create this unforgettable psych-folk classic. Its centerpiece, the 13+ minutes “A Very Cellular Song”, is a spiritual freeform freakout that combines a Bahamian lullaby with a Sikh hymn, and it just might be their finest achievement. Another huge influence on Zep, Robert Plant has often cited it as the primary field manual consulted during the making of Led Zeppelin III.

Nick Drake Five Leaves Left (1969). Appearing from out of nowhere on the London folk club circuit in the mid-60s, Drake quickly caught the ear of producer Joe Boyd (perhaps British folk’s most important major player), after which the singer would be booked into London’s Sound Technique Studios to record this debut. Drake’s tragic personal and music career trajectory is now well-known, and the problems that plagued the production and release of this LP were not outside of this narrative. At odds with Boyd from the beginning regarding many of the songs’ backing arrangements, the strings that ended up on the final cut nevertheless compliment Drake’s lyrics and fretwork perfectly, particularly on the majestic “River Man”. What’s also striking is how confident and assured he still managed to sound here, every bit as melancholy and intense as ever but less damaged and defeated than he often sounded in his later work.

Fairport Convention Liege and Lief (1969). Also produced by Joe Boyd, the Fairport’s fourth release followed Unhalfbricking [read our review], the typical favorite of aficionados. But ultimately, Liege and Lief remains the band’s most important contribution to British folk. A magnificently paradoxical work, all the songs here are traditional ballads, reels, or jigs featuring Sandy Denny’s angelic vocals soaring above distorted amplified instruments. This would be the last album that Denny recorded with the band, next joining Fotheringay [read our review] for their sole 1970 release, which also holds a rightful place in the British folk canon.

Vashti Bunyan Just Another Diamond Day (1970). Among British folk’s diverse cast of eccentric characters, Vashti Bunyan has one of the most fascinating stories. Following a failed late-60s attempt at establishing herself as a female pop star a la Marianne Faithful, Bunyan and her boyfriend embarked on a trek across Britain in a horse-drawn wagon, eventually settling on a remote farm in the Outer Hebrides. Shortly thereafter, Joe Boyd (surprise!) coaxed her back into the studio to record this LP. Bunyan’s travels obviously gave her a lot of material to work with here, and her connection to the rugged, windswept Scottish landscape can be felt in songs like “Hebridean Sun”, “Rose Hip November”, and “Rainbow River”. Released in 1970, the record sold very few copies and promptly vanished into obscurity. Bunyan then left the music business and moved to Ireland to raise a family and continue her agrarian existence, presumably to be never heard from again. Meanwhile, the album grew in stature over the following decades, its original pressing becoming a big ticket collector’s piece and its songs becoming a huge influence on some American indie folk artists, most notably Davandra Banhart and Joanna Newsome. This renewed interest in Bunyan’s work lead to a loving reissue of this essential album, and the recording of a new one in 2005, Lookaftering, which was almost as good.

Steeleye Span Please to See the King (1971). A band with more than a passing resemblance to Fairport Convention (female lead vocalist, electrified arrangements of traditional material—it also didn’t hurt that founding member Ashley Hutchings was a previous member of the Fairports), Steeleye Span would prove to be one of British folk’s most enduring acts. Ironically, they lacked a drummer, but oftentimes they rocked harder than many bands who had one. This second album saw the arrival of Martin Carthy, an already huge presence on the British folk scene. Here he by no means hogs the spotlight, and his stellar guitar playing and supporting vocals make a perfect foil for lead vocalist Maddy Prior. This was the best lineup of Steleye Span, but it unfortunately lasted for only two more albums, neither of them nearly as good as this one.

The Strawbs From the Witchwood (1971). By the time of this release, the Strawbs had been around for a while, their earliest incarnation being more of a straight folk act (which briefly counted future Fairports’ vocalist Sandy Denny as a member). But over time they gravitated more towards a folk-rock sound, and with the addition of keyboardist Rick Wakeman here the band moved further into prog territory, a blessing or a curse depending on your personal tastes. Despite its studio wizardry and modern instrumentation, the Strawbs maintain a strong psychic connection to their homeland’s past. There are many fine moments here, including the daydreamy “Flight”. But the LP’s most memorable track is its side 1 closer, “The Hangman and the Papist”, a tragic tale of betrayal and injustice that could only have emerged from one of the darker chapters of Britain’s history.

Shirley Collins and the Albion Country Band No Roses (1971). This record represents a fruitful collaboration between another established folk icon, Shirley Collins, and a band that could have been called “Fairport Span” since many members of the Fairports (includiing Richard Thompson) and Steeleye Span participated in its recording. Actually, by the time of the album’s final mix, over 27 musicians had logged in time in the studio. Yet the record still retains a strong focus and clarity of purpose. The raucous “Murder of Maria Martin” illustrates what the Velvet Underground and Nico might have sounded like had it been recorded in the Scottish Highlands rather than New York.

Richard and Linda Thompson I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight (1974). After Thompson’s first solo outing, 1973’s Henry the Human Fly, singer Linda Peters, to whom he had recently married, joined him for his second outing, which would unexpectedly become the high watermark of his career. Almost everything about this record stands in stark contrast to the Utopian ideals that largely characterized the British folk movement in its earlier days, from its disturbing minimalist cover to the no-frills (mostly electric) guitar, drum, and bass arrangements . The lyrical content is much more personal than mythical or historical, and it often conveys a sense of loneliness, loss, and failure. Even some of the more upbeat material, like the title track, shows an abandonment of the country life and an embracing of an urban one. The deeply cynical “The End of the Rainbow” in a way serves as a fitting epitaph for a movement nearing its end.

Further Listening: At least a brief mention should be made about Ireland’s folk scene of this period. On many levels it can be difficult to distinguish it from that of Britain’s, as most Irish artists of merit ended up working in London (or, as was the case with the Clancy Brothers, New York). But one group who never got its due was Sweeney’s Men, a Galway-based trio whose sound embodied a beguiling mix of traditional Irish folk, eastern influences, and psychedelia. They only released two proper albums during their existence, which are nearly impossible to find. Fortunately, Castle Records released a wonderful anthology in 2004, Legend of Sweeney’s Men, which collects almost everything they ever recorded

For all intents and purposes, the arrival of punk rock in the late ’70s killed off what was left of the British folk movement. Many folk artists, including the ones listed above, adapted to the changing times successfully, but very few recorded anything as significant as the landmark LPs of their pasts. A high-profile revival—a British equivalent of the American alt-country movement of the early ’90s—never really materialized, which now seems strange. Yet today, bands like Mumford and Sons hint that such an event might be on the horizon. Who knows? Maybe a new generation of musicians will one day return to Albion and draw inspiration from it in ways that are just as new and exciting as those of their elders. To quote Nick Drake, “Time will tell us.” —Richard P

Are we forgetting your favorite late-60’s or 70’s British Folk or Folk-Rock LP? Leave your suggestions in the comments field below:

Van Dyke Parks “Song Cycles” (1968)

In 1968 Warner Brothers were preparing to make pop music history by releasing an album by a young musician and songwriter called Van Dyke Parks. Song Cycle’s budget at the time made it the most expensive album ever recorded back then. The Warner bosses weren’t worried, they knew it was going to be the biggest thing since Sgt. Pepper and probably bigger. They were wrong, they were very wrong.

When Song Cycle was released it just didn’t sell. It had received unprecedented pre-release rave reviews saying it things like: “The most important, creative and advanced pop recording since Sgt Pepper”; “a work of creative genius”; “the most vital piece of musical Americana since Gershwin”. Parks also had an impressive pedigree as a musician on The Byrds ‘5D’ and the first Tim Buckley album; songwriter for Harpers Bizarre and others; a musical arranger on Disney’s ‘The Jungle Book’ and most famously as a collaborator with Beached Boy Brian Wilson. Despite the advance press and the pedigree it’s hard to see how on earth Warners thought this was going to be a real big seller. It is undoubtedly a work of unique vision and ambition. Truly a masterpiece but with zero “radio friendly” 3 minute sound bites packed with catchy hooks. Even today Song Cycle is not an easy listening experience but it is a challenging and ultimately rewarding one.

I can think of no other record like it. Song Cycle is a musical travelogue, a sonic trip across the America of Mark Twain, John Steinbeck, Busby Berkeley musicals and John Ford Westerns. It has moments of real beauty such as ‘The All Golden’ and ‘Donavan’s Colours’ but just as you’re beginning to feel like you know which direction you’re moving in, it whisks you up like a hayseed in the wind and then lands you somewhere completely different.

Warner Brothers reaction to the lack of sales was a strange but entertaining one. They started to run a series of adverts in the press stating they didn’t care they, ‘lost $$,$$$ on the album of the year’, because it was a great album and people shouldn’t worry about them, as they could afford it as they were making lots of money from lesser artists. Then they offered people the chance to send their worn copies of the album with one penny to Warners and they would send back two new copies, ‘one to educate a friend with’. After all they had so many copies pressed up. Whether or not this reaction by Warners was a bluff or not they have stuck by Van Dyke Parks, continuing to finance his self indulgent, uncommercial but often wonderful fare. The latest of these releases being a collaboration with Brian Wilson ‘Orange Crate Art’. For me ‘Song Cycle’ remains his finest work. —D Stewart

Prince “Parade” (1986)

Parade is definitely one of Prince’s finest releases. It’s a sprawling kaleidoscope of sounds and textures, many new to his oeuvre, many previously explored. And it all coheres awesomely, feeling much longer than its forty-five minute running time. Opening with a brisk four-song suite, Parade’s atmosphere is set: that is, anything can happen, and its all going to be quirky and beautifully strange. Images of France embellish the album’s lyrics, while musically there is everything from swooning ballads, vaudevillian pop, funk, psychedelia, and, oh yeah, some of what was to be expected from Prince by this point. That comes in the form of Kiss, the magnificent lead single and the most popular song here. But really there are plenty of gems to found, from New Position’s clanking march, to Girls and Boy’s bouncy textures, and all the way to the achingly gorgeous closer, Sometimes it Snows in April. A much bigger hit in Europe than the U.S., Parade is unfortunately overlooked on a popular scale, but is worth anyone’s time who is willing to let its wonderful world envelop them. —automatic1

Irmin Schmidt & Bruno Spoerri “Toy Planet” (1981)

A great forgotten 1981 album from the Can keyboardist, Irmin Schmidt. Delicate synth passages a few sudden astonishing gypsy disco stomps. Slightly camp, but in a good way. Sometimes sci-fi creepy, like watching Tron after eating Nutmeg. Irmin’s album does not overstate itself or outstay its welcome. It cheers me up with happy tunes. —TheGreatCurve