Peter Hammill: The Silent Corner and the Empty Stage
Released in early February of 1974, even though there is ample participation by fellow Van Der Graaf band mates, this is clearly a personal, Peter Hammill solo effort. From the start Hammill dives inward stirring up and capturing a range of emotional turbulence.
The album opens with the metrical tempestuous “Modern,” and ends with one of Hammill’s greatest classics, the deeply emotional “A Louse Is Not a Home.” Hammill often performed these two songs along with “The Lie (Bernini’s Saint Theresa)”, also on this album, in the 1970s on solo tours in small venues, injecting every ounce of energy into his dramatic renditions.
Generally the featured instrument is Hammill’s expressive vocals appropriately supported by piano, mellotron, acoustic and electric guitar with additional support from the VDGG band members with Spirit’s Randy California on lead guitar on one track. The production emphasizes a sense of intimacy which underscores the uncompromising, unsuppressed intimacy, immediacy, and intensity which makes this album so remarkable.
Todd Rundgren: Todd
Todd Rundgren’s eponymous double album, released in February 1974, proclaims energetically, or rather electronically, that Mr. Rundgren is a master composer and arranger, delighting us with a wide array of electronic timbres and effects. Yes, we still have beautiful Rundgren ballads, such as “I Think You Know” and “A Dream Goes On Forever” included amidst all the voltaic dazzle, but the main attractions are Rundgren’s summoning of artfully deployed electronic-generated special effects, his command of various studio production techniques, and his venturing into more challenging musical compositions, like the metrically unbalanced “Drunken Blue Rooster”, the whimsical “An Elpee Worth of Tunes”, and ” the snide, unbridled ”Heavy Metal Kids.” Altogether, this is a extremely enjoyable, adventurous yet cohesive work that some may chose to classify as prog-rock, yet clearly stands separate from anything previously released commercially. This no doubt contributed to it going over the head of just about every major rock critic that reviewed the album in 1974 but also contributes to this being one of the most notable albums from 1974.
Steely Dan: Pretzel Logic
This is just one of those classic rock albums. Released on February 20, 1974, there really isn’t any single track that is at the level of “King of the World” from their previous album, but just about every track here is very close to that level of excellence. They group seems to have intentionally kept each song to AM airplay length — this means that jazz influence is more densely embedded in the tracks, but still handled very artfully and tastefully, retaining the classic Steely Dan sound.
Brian Eno: Here Comes the Warm Jets
Brian Eno’s debut solo album, Here Comes the Warm Jets, released on February 8, 1973, is a unconventional rich tapestry of accessible pop (think Sid Barrett) set into ingenious contexts. Truly delightful, this album showcases Eno’s unconventional brand of creativity.
Tangerine Dream: Phaedra
Released on the 20th of February 1974, this engaging album overtakes Harmonia’s Musik Von Harmonia, released the previous month, in the race for approaching the fully mature sequence-driven, repetitive, German Prog Rock that would soon become so prevalent. The music truly pulls the listener out of their current environment and into another universe — a universe where sound is not differentiated from sensation, imagery, or existence.
Chase: Pure Music
After a very successful first album, and a weaker second album, it seems Bill Chase finally figured out the best direction to go in — emphasizing a more jazz-based brand of jazz rock, with mainly instrumental material. Every track works nicely, but alas, this would be Chase’s last album due to the crash of the twin-engine charted plane flight to his scheduled performance at the Jackson County Fair. Also lost to us all was drummer Walter Clark, guitarist John Emma, and the especially talented Wallace “Wally” Yohn, who provides some excellent keyboard contributions to this last Chase album.
Chase brings some of his Stan Kenton, Woody Herman and Maynard Ferguson experiences into the music on this album, elevating the content with more sophisticated arrangements and showcasing his personal solo skills at their very best. While Chicago, Lighthouse, If, and Blood, Sweat and Tears, best work was now in the past (by February 1974) is appears that Chase’s best work was tantalizingly close but, unfortunately, for all of us, never captured.
Mick Ronson: Slaughter on 10th Avenue
Released in February 1974, this is about as close to a David Bowie album as one can find which doesn’t have David Bowie involved in singing, performing or producing. We do have another member of Ziggy’s Spider From Mars band, Trevor Bolder on bass, trumpet and trombone, and we have Mike Garson on keyboards (notable especially for his piano contribution on Aladdin Sane) — and we also have two original songs by Bowie, ”Growing Up and I’m Fine” and “Hey Ma, Get Papa.” Ronson’s vocals are second best to Bowie, but good enough to carry the album off nicely. Truly a recommended record for any Bowie fan.
Released on either September 29, 1973, or more likely October 5, 1973, “Selling England by The Pound” stands as one of the finest progressive rock albums of the 1970s. The sound is superior to that of their previous album, “Foxtrot,” and the music maintains the same level of excellence. It adeptly balances instrumental passages with vocal sections, blending humor (seen in tracks like “The Battle of Epping Forest” and “Aisle of Plenty”) with more serious compositions.
“Firth of Fifth” (note the humor in the title, which is a reference to Firth of Forth , the fjord of the Forth river, in Scotland, north and northwest of Edinburgh) is my favorite track, particularly due to is introductory theme on piano, later reprised by the group, but there is not a single weak moment on the entire album — and quite an album it is, with seven perfectly realized tracks totaling over fifty-eight minutes of magnificent music.
The Who: Quadrophenia
Released on October 19, 1973, this is the Who’s masterpiece about teenage alienation, angst, attitude, and the multiple personalities vying for integration into the evolving identity of an individual. It also addresses the weaknesses within the UK social system and the moments of solace that British youth of the 1960s sought and found in music and by the seaside. Moreover, this work is an astounding musical achievement, characterized by skillful thematic reiteration. Its musical content can be enjoyed both on a visceral level and intellectually, making it enduringly captivating upon repeated listens. Notably, the lyrics were deftly incorporated into music that was apparently written first, and Townshend has delivered exceptionally well-crafted lyrics that serve as the narrative backbone.
Effectively, this is a rock opera set in 1965, centering around a singular British youth, inspired by conversations Pete Townshend had with early fans of The Who. A significant distinction is that, unlike “Tommy,” which featured two songs by John Entwistle, one by Keith Moon, and a reworking of a Sonny Boy Williamson tune, all the original material here is authored by Pete Townshend. The emphasis is on “initial”, since Townshend intentionally provided a framework of lyrics, melody and chords that would develop into final arrangements through Townshend’s working with the band and the studio equipment to achieve the final product. So though Townshend deserves appropriate credit here for the authorship of this impressive work, it is The Who, as a band, that must be recognized for making this an enduring classic.
For those interested in additional information on this great album, please check out this track-by-track review by Caryn Rose written back in 2013 for Quadrophenia‘s 40th anniversary: Track-By-Track Review
Return to Forever: Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy
Released sometime in October 1973, this third album from Return to Forever magically and masterfully weaves together elements of jazz, fusion and progressive rock. Chick Corea dazzling keyboards and his other worldly — no, make that other galactic — compositions just radiate throughout this album. Fellow band members, Stanley Clarke, Lenny White and Bill Connors are equally up to the challenge, with Mr. Clark providing a wonderfully radiant composition of his own, “After the Cosmic Rain” and exhibiting Olympic-level mastery on electric bass. The coup de grâce is the last track, “The Game Maker”, breathtakingly piloting us over intricate, wondrously, shifting musical landscapes.
Elton John: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
The one obstacle that prevented The Who’s Quadrophenia ever getting to the number one album spot in the UK or in the US, was the multi-million-sales avalanche of Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, released on October 5, 1973, almost two weeks before Quadrophenia. Of the slightly over one hundred million copies of albums Elton has sold, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road accounts for over thirty-one million, and continues to sell in substantial quantities to new Elton John fans today.
Rather than compose music and then fit lyrics into the music, Elton John’s method in the 1970’s, like that of many songwriters, was to take already written lyrics, in Elton’s case partnering with Bernie Taupin, and then create music too complement those lyrics. Considering the nature of many of Taupin’s lyrics, it is rather incredible that Elton created so many highly popular and widely-appealing songs from the initial material. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, in a sense a loose or partial concept album, provides insight into Elton’s range of compositional skills, with the initial track, “Funeral For A Friend:, being one of his rare instrumentals, providing a glimpse into the depth of his creativity when not bound by lyrics. This instrumental introduction is effectively paired with “Love Lies Bleeding” providing an almost progressive-rock opening for the album.
Overall the album is quite good and along with his two albums from 1970 (Elton John and Tumbleweed Connection) and his live album from that period (17-11-70) are a set of his works I hold in high esteem. Now, though the first side and last side of the original 2 LP “GYBR” is indispensable, as is the first track of side two, and the last track of side three, the material in between could be omitted, to get a very fine single LP album, at a total length of around 45 minutes. Now some may wish to further add another track like “The Ballad of Danny Bailey (1909–34)” resulting in an album that still comfortably adheres to standard LP limits. That said, the CD, containing over 76 minutes of the original material, is now sold at roughly the same price as other Elton John albums from the early seventies — so even though a slimmer, arguably better album could be achieved, what’s the point — given how effortless it is to replay favored tracks on a CD or to skip those not currently of interest.
Billy Cobham: Spectrum
Spectrum, Billy Cobham’s first album as a leader, released October, 1, 1973, is as impressive and important as any fusion album of 1973. The combination of Cobham and Jan Hammer dominate the album, and the supporting resources, particularly Tommy Bolin who is present on over half of the musical material, round out this excellent work. Album includes duets between Cobham and Hammer, Hammer soloing on acoustic piano on the beautiful ballad, “To the Woman but it is the longer tracks, and several lengthier tracks including the opening track, “Quadrant 4” full of energy and purpose, “Stratus” with remarkable bass work from Leland Sklar, and the fast-paced, electrically-charged title track, “Spectrum” with Joe Farrell on sax and flute, and Jimmy Owens on trumpet and flugelhorn.
Gryphon: Gryphon
Gryphon’s first album is a unique blend of folk and rock, incorporating both modern elements (guitar, bass, bassoon, trombone, drums) and earlier musical instrumentation (mandolin, recorder, crumhorn) into a successful set of songs. In late 1973, there were several folk rock groups, such as Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span, and Pentangle, but Gryphon, with two of the group members—Brian Gulland and Richard Harvey, both graduates of London’s Royal College of Music—distinguish themselves through a level of originality that transcends replicating traditional Celtic folk harmonies and melodies. Their occasional use of late 19th-century and 20th-century dissonance, not found in traditional English, Irish, Scottish, or Welsh music, coupled with their colorful and sometimes unconventional instrumentation, creates a new sound that effectively captures and maintains the listener’s attention. Later, the group would develop a more progressive-rock sound, but this first album is a fine one, deserving to be enjoyed and appreciated on its own terms.
Renaissance: Ashes are Burning
Renaissance’s fourth album, “Ashes are Burning,” was released on October 10, 1973. The album opens with full intensity, featuring the instrumental introduction of “Can You Understand?” This segues into the introspective acoustic main section, accompanied by some orchestration, showcasing Annie Haslam’s spellbinding vocals. The introductory material returns to conclude the piece. Such artistry and high-quality musical content are defining characteristics of this album, effectively blending classical, folk, and rock elements. The album concludes with the majestically crafted and musically uplifting “Ashes are Burning,” providing an emotionally captivating ending to a highly enjoyable album.
Herbie Hancock: Head Hunters
Released on October 26, 1973, and recorded the previous month, this landmark album signifies a conscious shift in direction for Mr. Hancock. It departs from his previous, more progressive and adventurous modal-based music, embracing a solidly tonal funky style of jazz. For this endeavor, he replaced all the members of his previous sextet except for himself and the talented Bennie Maupin on reeds. Remarkably, this jazz album achieved significant commercial success, foreshadowing George Benson’s stunning commercial breakthrough three years later.
The album starts off with “Chameleon,” featuring its initial foundation of two relentlessly repeated bass figures. However, the music is far from stagnant; it organically develops as it progresses, with the bass occasionally taking a secondary role but always remaining fundamental to the overall forward motion. The improvisation, while solidly jazz-based, aligns with a generally funky mood. Toward the end of “Chameleon,” we encounter sparkling chord changes reminiscent of a chameleon changing its exterior color, yet it retains its essential nature—similar to the music—concluding with a more static, funky ending. This is followed by an abstracted, funky rendition of Hancock’s classic, “Watermelon Man,” creatively presented to sound fresh, innovative, and slightly futuristic.
Side two starts with “Sly,” a vibrant homage to Sly Stone that includes some wild, abandoned, but clearly intricate interplay between Maupin’s sax and Hancock’s keyboards. This dynamic exchange offers all the excitement and vigor of the free jazz of the era, yet within a tonal, structured framework—making it accessible to a wide range of listeners. The album concludes with the reflective jazz tone poem, “Vein Melter,” seemingly representing the impact of heroin. The sense of time is significantly slowed by the floating, detached music, free from earthly worries or concerns. Notice the slow beat that initiates, persists, and concludes the track, possibly symbolizing the futility of the heroin experience. This second side, featuring “Sly” and “Vein Melter,” stands as one of the best single LP sides of any album from the 1970s.
Kraftwerk: Ralf und Florian
Released sometime in October1973, Ralf und Florian is the third studio album by the soon-to-be influential German electronic music pioneers, Kraftwerk. At this time there group is just the two former students of Düsseldorf’s Robert Schumann Conservatorium, Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider The album is influenced heavily by “classical” or conservatory/university ideas about electronic music, but it is clear that a more accessible element is added into their works. This is far from their pop-flavored, and very influential, fourth album, but it still holds a special place in the band’s discography, marking that important transitional phase between their early “experimental” electronic work and the groundbreaking sound they would later be known for. The most intriguing work on the colorfully diverse side one is the pattern-based “Kristallo.” The second side open with “Tanzmusik”, which comes the closest to the music of their next album, with its lighthearted texture, vocoder-enhanced vocals and relentless drive. The album concludes strongly with the longest track, the relatively accessible “Ananas Symphonie” (“Pineapples Symphony”) with the vocoder, this time, used to modulate their voices to sound detached and machine-like. Ironically, though, the piece also creates a relaxing, mediative soundscape reminiscent of a tropical island — pineapples and traces of seashore sounds included.
Caravan: For Girls That Grow Plump in the Night; Lou Reed: Berlin
With changes to their lineup, the loss of bassist Richard Sinclair and keyboardist Steve Miller and the addition of Richard’s cousin, Dave Sinclair on keyboards, and Geoff Richardson on viola, Caravan moves away from the more progressive, jazz-infused sound of their previous album, to a less progressive sound infused with some pop elements of the late sixties The highlight of this fifth studio album, released on October 5th, 1973, is the medley on the last track, “L’Auberge Du Sanglier / A Hunting We Shall Go / Pengola / Backwards / A Hunting We Shall Go – Reprise”, which includes strong guitar work from Pye Hastings, impressive electric viola and cello from Richardson and Paul Buckmaster, respectively, some sensitive acoustic piano from Dave Sinclair and a solid orchestral arrangement from John Bell and Martyn Ford.
Also, on October 5, 1973, Lou Reed releases his poignant concept album, Berlin. Though not as melodically memorable as his previous album, and with some musical content from earlier works recycled or redeployed, the album is still deserving of attention. The last track, in particular, provides an affecting and fitting conclusion to the work.
Released in November of 1972, this is the first of Donald Fagen’s and Walter Becker’s string of excellent albums. The music ranges from pop to rock to folk-rock to jazz-based rock with engaging and intelligent chord progressions and a healthy use of minor seventh and ninth chords.
THE EDGAR WINTER GROUP: THEY ONLY COME OUT AT NIGHT
Skillfully produced by Rick Derringer, this is Edgar Winter’s most solid album with a number of songs that for the rest of 1972 and early into 1973 found a prominent place on AM radio, FM radio, at high school parties, or in the repertoire of high school dance bands. “Hangin’ Around”, “Free Ride”, “We All Had a Real Good Time” and the instrumental “Frankenstein” are hard rock classics that have effectively captured and preserved the spirit of early seventies hard rock, providing, today, an effortless means for us to travel back in time fifty years ago.
LOU REED: TRANSFORMER
Released on November 8, 1972, Lou Reed’s Transformer excels at creating a level of nonchalance and casualness that was more reminiscent of the beat movement of the 1950s than typical of an early 70’s rock album. Aided by David Bowie, Mick Ronson and Trever Bolder and elegantly produced by Bowie and Ronson, this album, along with the success of its glam, transexual and sometimes banned single, “Walk on the Wild Side”, brought Lou Reed out of the shadows of the Underground and into the commercial spotlight. The album is considered a classic by many and has had substantial influence on many Indie Rock artists that came later.
WAR: THE WORLD IS A GHETTO
War’s fifth studio album, released around November of 1972, opens with the once relentlessly-played AM single, “Cisco Kid”, which though annoying for those of us that heard it in spring of 1973 played through third-rate speakers of a school bus for multiple weeks almost every morning on our ride to school, was a welcome relief from the equally often-played, but far less bearable “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ol’ Oak Tree.” That said, now hearing “Cisco Kid” on a first-class audio set up almost fifty years later, the quality of performance and the arrangement almost make up for the melodic and harmonic mediocrity of the track. More importantly though, the rest of the album is quite good, starting with the infectious, funky “Where was You At” and the effervescent jazz-infused 13 1/2 minute “City Country City” instrumental on side one and the three tracks on side two including the soulfully reflective “Four Cornered Room”, and the beautifully funk-infused, “The World is a Ghetto.” This was not only War’s most commercially successful album, but the best selling album for the year 1973 holding the number one position for two weeks in February 1973 and staying on the Billboard 200 for a total of 68 weeks.
JONI MITCHELL: FOR THE ROSES
Released in November of 1972 between two of her most artistically and commercially successful albums, 1971’s Blue and 1974’s Spark and Court, the excellent For the Roses brims over with wonderful melodic phrases, remarkable piano lines, and beautiful acoustic guitar and an appropriate amount of harmonica, bass, percussion, winds and strings — always at the right places!
CAN: EGE BAMYASI
Can’s highly influential album, Ege Bamyasi, with the name apparently inspired from the label of a container of canned okra of Turkish origin also meant for German consumption of these “okra pods”, takes a detour from the previous no-holds-barred and even more influential Tago Mago, with an often more structured (via editing in some cases) and relatively more contained set of compositions. Not readily available in the US, I purchased this album in a German record store in 1978, and listened to it once before shelving it for several decades. It’s great to come back and revisit it and find there is much more here than I thought — and to discover the influence it has had on music since my original purchase, with Stephen Malkmus of Pavement, Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, and the band Spoon all having been much more serious fans of the album and reaping music influences from it. Truly fortunate to revisit the album and able to enjoy it on a much better audio set up than I had in 1978.
Uriah Heep, Moody Blues, Carly Simon, Hawkwind, and Barclay James Harvest
Other notable albums from November 1972 include Uriah Heep’s semi-progressive Magician’s Birthday with a memorable Moog synthesizer solo from Ken Hensley on “Sweet Loraine” (reaching the 91st spot on the Billboard Hot 100) and a more expansive title track concluding the album, Hawkwind’s third studio album, Doremi Fasol Latido, stylistic different than their previous albums but still quality, engaging space-rock, Carly Simon’s No Secrets with two well-known tracks, the number one hit “You’re So Vain”, and less commercially successful but equally appealing “The Right Thing to Do”, the richly arranged, orchestrated Barclay James Harvest, Baby James Harvest, a mix of straight rock (“Thank You”) and more progressive tracks (“Summer Soldier”, “Moonwater”), and Moody Blues’ eighth album (last of the highly regarded string of seven classic album) which had two commercially successful singles, “Isn’t Life Strange” and “I’m Just a Singer (In a Rock and Roll Band)”, which spurred increased interest in their previous work resulting in the re-release of the beautifully haunting single version of the “The Night”, titled “Nights in White Satin”, which did much better the second time around, getting more attention and airplay than any of the music on the Seventh Sojourn album.
The distinction between dance music and listening music goes back before recorded history, and by recorded history, I don’t mean music recorded on tape, records or cylinders, but history captured through a preservable or lasting medium such as clay tablets, papyrus, paper or blog posts on the internet. The boundaries often merge between dance music and listening music and a great deal of dance music provides listening pleasure while much listening music encourages one to further experience the music through motion, even if only a slight swaying of the head or tapping of the foot.
In the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, dance music and ceremonial music were incredibly important, and there we few cases where composers wrote music that was intended of audiences that would critically listen to music as a stand alone listening experience. By the end of the Renaissance, opera was introduced in Europe (some 14 centuries after Chinese opera had entertained the general public during the Three Kingdoms era), providing a visual spectacle, narrative and supporting music. Music was also played for gatherings and other ceremonies, often competing with dining and conversation, but over time attention was focused on crafting music that was the primary focus for the audience — music to listen to without dancing or in conjunction with some accompanying activity, ceremony or theatrical work. Over time more and more people got in the habit of attending concerts where one was seated with no other visual then the performers playing their instruments. Yes, attending such functions was an experience and social function, but by the nineteenth century, no one was supposed to talk or even cough and anything but the music itself was considered a distraction.
Player piano rolls, the radio, and the phonograph played important roles in providing both dancing and listening music, and made music so readily available that using music as background or as part of an environmental ambience became more and more common, with the art of listening rapidly declining in the general public. Yes, dancing music and listening music continued to thrive side by side, with big bands in the thirties and forties providing both functions; Duke Ellington and Stan Kenton bands provided particularly interesting and compelling listening music at the same time they provided very effective dance music.
At the beginning of the Beatles’ popularity, their primary focus was on dance music, but they also introduced more serious songs starting in 1965 — ballads not particular suitable for dancing such as “Yesterday” and “Norwegian Wood.” (“Norwegian Wood” was theoretically suitable for dancing to in its steady 12/8 tempo, but few rock and roll fans were particularly keen on waltz-like dancing.) “Nowhere Man” and “Michelle” followed these two, both in a 4/4 time signature that theoretically supported slow dancing, but one’s first reaction was to listen to these works not to dance to them.
The elements of listening music consisted of two parts, lyrics to which one listened to in order to understand the author’s message, and the music itself, which either supported lyrics, provided relief or interludes in relationship to the lyrics, or stood on its own as in the case of extended passages between lyrics or in purely instrumental music. The Beatles had a go at a single blues-based, relatively unimaginative instrumental, “Flying”, but on that same album, Magical Mystery Tour, there were several songs where the lyrics were considerably secondary to the impact and character of the music itself. When one first heard the Sgt. Peppers album and then, later, tracks on the Magical Mystery Tour album like “I Am the Walrus” or “Strawberry Fields Forever”, one didn’t exclaim “Wow!” as a reaction to the lyrics, but was primarily impressed by the bold, progressive qualities of the music. (Yes, their was a slight fixation with some around the initials of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, but it was at best a footnote to the reaction of the “new sounds” provided by the music.)
It was this emphasis on listening to music, by a band that had abandoned playing playing live due to screaming, fawning, and fainting fans effectively eliminating the listening aspect of live performances, that contributed significantly to other groups focusing on providing an LP-based listening experience, something not foreign to those musicians that had grown up in households where classical and jazz LPs were listened to attentively and often in reverence.
For my part, during my pre-teen years, I was exposed to Ravel’s Bolero, which I listened to intently from start to finish to sort out what changed with each repetition of the material, Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue — and so it was natural to listen intently to Sgt. Peppers, then Abbey Road and then ultimately Yes’s Fragile and Close to the Edge.
By the time Close to the Edge was to be released, I was the proud owner of a budget LP set of six of Mozart’s later symphonies, and had listened to several works of Beethoven, Ravel and Debussy. Yes’s earlier album, Fragile, had impressed me for its balanced, classical-like attributes and musical preciseness supporting highly appealing and handsomely crafted material. Close to the Edge seemed to have embraced a more impressionistic, romantic ethos; it was a music that embraced elements of enchantment and imagery over precision and order.
About the middle of September 1972, right after Close to the Edge was released, my next door neighbor brought over the album, and upon listening, I was impressed more by the differences between it and the earlier Fragile, than any stylistic similarities, of which there were many. That first side to the title song was very much in the realm of classical music, recalling those wonderful orchestral tone poems of the late nineteenth century — yet brought up to date with lyrics and electronic instruments. “Close to the Edge” had a sense of thematic development, coherence and overall direction that, in my mind at that time, made this equal, and in the same category, of those fifteen to twenty-five minutes great classical works I so loved. Side two was a slight step down with neither of the two tracks on side two equaling the impact of the first side (or matching the best of the four main works on Fragile) but each was still musically impressive and compelling. To the credit of U.S. listeners, the album did quite well commercially, climbing up to the number three spot on the Billboard albums chart. In addition, all three works from the album had been captured in live performance for posterity from Yes’s 1972 tour and released in 1973, on the “Yessongs” album, providing another version for the serious rock-music listeners of that time.
Additional September 1972 Releases
Of the remaining rock-album releases in September, the most notable is Black Sabbath’s fourth album, simple titled Vol. 4, released September 1972. Guitarist and keyboardist, as well as primary composer, Tony Iommi pushes the band into new musical territory, sometimes exploring a harder, heavier sound and sometimes extending their previously established ostinato-based style. The first and lengthiest track, “Wheels of Confusion” is the most musically ambitious and varied, packed with a number of ingeniously layered and interlocking components. Also of note is the instrumental, “Laguna Sunrise”, a simple but effective composition with Iommi on both acoustic and mellotron.
With the band prepared to break up, the course of history changed completely for Mott the Hoople when after they had turned down David Bowie’s offer to allow them to record the newly composed, “Suffragette City”, Bowie quickly dashed off another song as an alternative potential single, furtively recording it with the Mott the Hoople band members in a couple of secretive sessions on May 14 and May 15, 1972. This would be the stand out track on the album named from that song, All the Young Dudes, and, importantly for the continuation of Mott The Hoople, a successful single peaking at number 3 in the UK and getting solid airplay on both AM and FM radio in the states. A version with Bowie as the vocalist for a guide track he had recorded during that May 15 session is now also available as a bonus track on later versions of the album.
Additional September 1972 releases included Seals and Croft’ Summer Breeze, an album filled with a variety of acoustic instruments and some electric guitar, released on September 9, 1972 with the initial track, “Hummingbird”, and its title track being played heavily on middle-of-the-road, easy listening and adult contemporary AM stations, Family’s sixth studio album, Bandstand, with its die-cut gatefold cover representing an old-style British television, the LP containing straightforward, relatively conventional rock songs (and the last Family album with John Wetton), Steeleye Span’s strong acoustic folk album, “Below the Salt”, and Sandy Denny’s second solo album, Sandy, with a varied assortment of arrangements highlighted by strong musicianship.
1972 was the year I started taking piano lessons in order to be able to write down all the original tunes that had started popping into my head around 1970. I never developed an ear good enough to play either my tunes or other people’s melodies impromptu, but it did give me enough foundation so I could pick out melodies after some work. It also gave me a greater appreciation of the great spectrum of music, current and past, available to people like me living in an industrialized, freedom-tolerant country with access to the variety of record stores, concerts and radio stations present in 1972 Southern California.
Uriah Heep: Demons and Wizards; Elton John: Honky Chateau
Two of the many albums released in May 1972, which I purchased shortly after their release included Uriah Heep’s Demons and Wizards and Elton John’s Honky Chateau. I recorded both on a portable battery-powered tape recorder to have music for the immediately upcoming summer vacation trips, but never much took a liking to Honky Chateau (resulting in me not purchasing Elton’s next album.) Demon and Wizards was better musically, and though not as notably baroque in feel as their previous album, there was still some impressive keyboard work and invigorating instrumental passages.
Rolling Stones: Exile On Main Street
Since I could now drive, I started going to school dances, and was exposed to some of the classic dance numbers on the Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street, which was recorded in sessions from 1970, 1971 and 1972 and released on May 12, 1972. I never considered myself much of a Stones fan, but I loved dancing to “Tumbling Dice”, and particularly “Happy”, when some local band would play them (along with Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water”) at either our own high school gymnasium or at the college across the street or our local junior college. Exile is doted on by rock critics, and though it is a pretty good album, maybe the Stone’s best album next to “Between the Buttons”, and though we have Nicky Hopkins and Billy Preston on keyboards and the creative magic of Mick Taylor and Keith Richards, this is an album more suited for secondary listening, such as driving or party music, as opposed to serious, concentrated listening as appropriate to the very best Yes, Jethro Tull, Genesis or Gentle Giant albums.
Caravan: Water Lily; Wishbone Ash: Argus
In terms of rock albums that do compel serious, concentrated listening, two releases from May 1972 fall into this category: Wishbone’s Ash’s Argus, which peaked near the end of May at number 3 in the UK top ten albums, and Caravan’s Waterloo Lily.
Ornette Coleman: Science Fiction, Skies Of America
My first exposure to Ornette Coleman was from the Columbia Records 2 LP “The Progressives” album, made available around 1973 as one of several give-a-way selections (something like 5 or 10 records for $1) to join the Columbia House Columbia Records Club. This was also my first exposure to Weather Report, Soft Machine, Charles Mingus, Don Ellis, Keith Jarrett, Bill Evans (with George Russell), Matching Mole, and Gentle Giant. Gentle Giant garnered the plurality of my attention, mandating me to immediately purchase their 1972 Octopus album, but the Ornette Coleman track was a bit beyond my reach and my reality. However, around 1976, when Columbia Records issued a 2 for 1 (two for the price of one) LP of Coleman’s Science Fiction albumand Skies of America album and at a price of $3.99, I considered that enticing price enough incentive to start my jazz record library, and I got my first in-depth experience with free-jazz, though I was well-prepared with the amount of twentieth century classical music I had been exposed to as a music major in college. After navigating through Xenakis, Stockhausen and Boulez, music by Ornette Coleman was now more accessible.
Science Fiction was recorded in 1971 and released in 1972 and is my favorite of the two albums. It is bold, unbridled and inventive. The album starts off with the ethereal and relatively tranquil “What Reason Could I give”, with Asha Puthil’s vocals essential in establishing the freshness and almost futuristic characteristics of this first track, and nicely setting up the overall listening experience for the entire album. “Civilization Day” provides a metallic, edgy contrast to the opening with an amazing pocket trumpet solo from Don Cherry. The third track of the album provides a softer and more open sound prior to the more aggressive fourth and fifth tracks, with the sixth track, “All My Life”, a beautiful love song with a remarkable sinuous melody and vocals handled handsomely by Puthil. The seventh track, “Law Years”, includes a compelling solo from Charlie Haden on bass, and the last track, “The Jungle is a Skyscraper” includes a terrific drum solo from Ed Blackwell immediately followed by Coleman on alto over effective support from Blackwell and Haydn, followed by Cherry, then Cherry and Coleman together with the return of the opening theme dramatically ending the album.
Skies of America, recorded in April of 1972, and released in May of 1972, fell short of what it could have been. Coleman’s writing for orchestra provides an effective foundation for an added jazz combo to improvise in appropriate places on top of the basic composition, however contractual constraints with the UK’s musician’s union resulted in Coleman having to do replace his intended “concertino” with a single soloist, himself. In addition, not the entire work was included on the album due to the time limitations of a single LP, possibly compromising the both the fullness and unity of the work — I say possibly, as I don’t believe there is any release with the entire work — I am not even sure the entire composition was recorded by the LSO during the April 1972 sessions.
That said, the album is still quite good, even with the LSO’s playing likely to have benefitted from additional rehearsal time. Coleman is in top form, and as expected, fully able to appropriately execute the underlying intention and vision of his work. The last track, “Sunday in America”, is as American as music by Aaron Copland, starting out reflective and embracing individuality, disparity, and unfettered freedom to dramatically end the movement and effectively close out the forty-minute work.
Weather Report: Live in Tokyo, I Sing the Body Electric
Perhaps a bit more accessible and commercially serviceable to Columbia Records was Weather Report’s part-studio-based, part live album, I Sing the Body Electric, released on May 26, 1972 in states. The live material is a subset of the “Live in Tokyo” 2 LP album released on May 1, 1972 in Japan, and shortly thereafter available as an import in the US, and then much later, like the second decade of the 21st century, available as a two CD set.
Randy Newman: Sail Away
On May 23, 1972, Randy Newman and Reprise records released Sail Away, Newman’s strongest album up to that time, including some of Newman’s songs that had been previously recorded by other artists and some newer material — or at least new to the public. Though not a commercial blockbuster, the album did make it into the Billboard 200, peaking at position 163. Sometime in late 1972 or 1973, I remember Newman appearing on TV and then in 1973, when, as a senior in high school, I took a Music History 100 class from cellist Terry King at the college across the street from my high school. Mr. King shared that he had played cello on this album (as well as cello on Carole King’s Tapestry) and he played a cut from the Sail Away album. Later in 1973, I saw Newman live, just him and piano, at the junior college, performing many of the songs on this album for an interested but relatively small audience. Though, I love the orchestration on this album, nothing quite brings out the sardonic wit and implied cynicism and irony of these songs as Newman tackling them live in the intimate setting of a small auditorium, in his individually, almost conspicuously, relaxed, offhand manner.
Released on April 14, 1972, Three Friends is Gentle Giant’s third album and their first self produced album, and takes a musical direction quite different from the previous two, with the music coalesced around the thematic concept of three schoolmates and the different directions they take. Whereas the music of the previous album generally flows and evades concrete musical borders, owing much to medieval and renaissance musical sensibilities, the music of Three Friends is distinctly of the twentieth century with repeated musical cells and patterns, occurrences of syncopation, and both subtle and more strongly emphasized meter changes — all taken together, form the initial characteristics of an identifiable Gentle Giant style that would become more prevalent in their fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth albums.
The first track, the prologue, starts off in 3/4, appropriate for the concept of “three friends”, then shifts into 4/4 in preparation for the lyrics and then ends in mostly 3/4 with a few apparent meter changes for the ending. The high register synthesizer, like the wispiness of memory, adds to the overall effect of detailed stereo separation. The interlaced vocals continues with the next track, “School Days”, which brings to mind that back and forth playfulness of school children, with some more shuffling of the time signature and then a brief dark middle interlude that shifts into 4/4 for the “remember” section which includes Ray Shulman’s son providing age-appropriate vocals against uncle Phil Shulmans grown-up vocals. After a jazzy vibraphone solo from Kerry Minnear, there are some more meter changes and the the reflection on past school days quietly ends.
Each of the next three tracks focuses on one of the three friends. “Working All Day” is the stoic pronouncement of the manual laborer, voiced appropriately by Derek Shulman, who matter of factly accepts his fate with “no regrets” in mostly straight 4/4 common time. Notable is the introduction, a free multi-voiced, contrapuntal, synthesizer part, that, through the magic of magnetic type, slowly (and seamlessly) grinds down to the plodding working class tempo of the opening theme. Near the end of the piece, in the recap of that initial “working all day” theme, we get a few bars of what I call the Gentle Giant “stride” style (see Fifty Year Friday: July 1971), a “keep on trucking” era type of passage, that appears about twenty-seconds before the end of the song.
“Peel the Paint” showcases, lyrically, Phil Shulman, light and airy with “free from the start”, then Derek with an anguished “peel the paint”, “nothing’s been learned”, and musically, the two sides of the artist — the aesthetic highs and the tortured lows — with the “peel the paint”, “same old savage beast”, and “nothing’s been learned, no, nothing at all” section relying heavily on the use of the “devil of music” (“diabolus in musica”), the tritone, and a guitar solo that starts out tormented and appears to flop into a drunken-like stupor with the piece ending with a recap of “nothing’s been learned.”
The third track covers the final friend, the lad that made the “big time”, reflecting on the material advantages of success, in a mostly 12/8 meter with some shorter bars for typical Gentle Giant variety. The album ends with “Three Friends” redeploying material from the prologue, including use of both 3/4 and 4/4 meters. The album, though maybe not delivering the most profound concept or realization of that concept, succeeds musically, and with its ample occurrence of 4/4, 2/4 and 12/8 rhythms, makes wonderful driving music. I would also suggest listening to it with visual cues — perhaps something like “light speakers” — devices that bundle different colors of strings of Christmas lights with each color associated to a band of audio frequencies and placed behind a semi-transparent plastic to create dazzling color effects coordinated with the music.’
Overcast: The Approaching Storm
Recorded in a series of contentious sessions in January 1972, made even more difficult by equipment issues and studio logistic headaches (with the band unpleasantly mired in the resulting red tape spawned by recent ownership changes at the La Brea recording studios), Overcast’s fifth album, The Approaching Storm, saw the light of day on the first of April, 1972.
Shifting tentatively from the basic blues and blues-rock formula that had provided their only hit, “Better Yet”, the band, led by the urging of classically trained keyboardist Trevor Stuart (see Fifty Year Friday: Overcast, With a Chance of Showers) explored more complex musical avenues, incorporating a range of influences from the The Who’s recent 1971 album, Who’s Next to the Yes’s Fragile album — though clearly, David Amato was no Keith Moon or Bill Bruford, and Douglas Brandt was no John Entwistle or Chris Squire.
The first side starts with the title track, with heavy bass and darkly-tinged doom-laced lyrics contrasted with pleas for optimism (“No room for grooming this looming, mushrooming doom and gloom”), followed by “Cognitive Unconsciousness” with its bagpipe-like synthesizer passage, and then “Decidedly Dangerous”, which merges into “Disaster Part One: Recognized, Resisted, Realized”, which effectively ends the first side.
Side Two opens with “Disaster Part Two: Reality” with stabbing marimba-like effects from the synthesizer and concludes with the dramatic and stormy, fifteen-minute, “Crystal Palace Workshop”, which leans heavily on Stuarts multi-track use of moog synthesizer and Bill Fortney’s heavily arpeggiated and intermittently apocalyptic electric guitar.
David Crosby & Graham Nash: David Crosby & Graham Nash; Stephen Stills: Manassas; Jim Croce: You Don’t Mess Around with Jim; Procol Harum: In Concert with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra
Additional albums released in April of 1972 include the first Crosby/Graham album, with an exquisite balance between the well-crafted Nash compositions and the mellower Crosby tunes crowned by Nash’s timeless gem “Immigration Man”. the Stephen Stills two LP Manassas with its individually themed LP sides, Jim Croce’s breakout commercial album, You Don’t Mess Around with Jim, with its quality arrangements, well-recorded acoustic guitar and the elegantly-wrought classic, “Time in a Bottle”, and Procol Harum’s best selling album recorded live with full orchestra.
Released at the beginning of February 1972, this music is timeless because, rather than despite, its simplicity. Yes, we get the LSO playing on two of the tracks, but the orchestration is appropriate and effective and there really is nothing on this album that is excessive, superfluous, or gets in the way of the emotional enjoyment.
Every song on the album is a gem, worthy of inclusion on a best hits album of lesser artists. Despite its repeated appearance on FM and AM radio starting in February 1972 and taking the top Billboard spot in March, the most renown track on the album, “Heart of Gold”, never wears out its welcome unlike so many other top hits of early 1972. And equally engaging , and wear-resistant, are “A Man Needs a Maid”, “Old Man”, a track inspired by the groundskeeper of Young’s newly purchased ranch and a live recording of (the best song on the album) “The Needle and the Damage Done.”
We get lots of great acoustic guitar on this album, James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt on “Heart of Gold” and “Old Man”, and appearances by David Crosby, Stephen Stills, Graham Nash. There is nothing here that surpasses “Cinnamon Girl” or “Broken Arrow”, but there is no Neil Young album as indispensable as this one.
Flash: Flash
Headed up by former Yes guitarist Peter Banks, with formidable bassist Ray Bennett and the assistance of former Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye, Flash released their debut album in February of 1972. It opens strongly, swirling and phosphorescing with the enthusiasm of “Small Beginnings”, which would later, in an abbreviated singles format, climb up to number 29 on the Billboard charts in August, later that year. Aided by that airplay, the album climbed up to spot 33 on the Billboard Top 200 LPs listing, performing much better than the two albums that followed. The music is generally invigorating, with imaginative arpeggio-based guitar work from Banks, complimentary keyboards by Kaye, solid drum work by Mike Hough, solid and creative basswork from Bennett, appropriate vocals from Colin Carter and stimulating progressive-rock time changes and chord changes.
Todd Rundgren: Something/Anything
Todd Rundgren, releases his third album in February 1972, with the first three sides brilliantly conceived and executed — and with a dazzling display of studio equipment mastery by Todd Rundgren — and Todd Rundgren alone, who in additional plays all instruments of each and every track. Following those first three sides, is a more conventional side with an array of other talented musicians, including Moogy Klingman and the Brecker brothers.
Album has aged will these 50 years, and still impressive sounding, particularly on a top-notch audio system, with some real musical keepers including “Hello, It’s Me” and the awesome “The Night the Carousel Burned Down” with its invigorating and seamless interplay between the initial 4/4 theme and the expected 3/4 music of a Carousel.
Jimmy Smith: Root Down, Nick Drake: Pink Moon; The Guess Who: Rockin’; Strawbs: Grave New World
Jimmy Smith’s Root Down captures performances from February 8, 1972 where the emphasis is on funky rock/blues/gospel-influenced jazz. There is some great exchanges between Smith on the Hammond B3, and Arthur Adams on guitar. Though hard to criticize the original LP for any reason, the expanded version, available on CD and digital download or digital streaming is superior for having uncut versions of the three strongest track on the album, “Sagg Shootin’ His Arrow”, the title track, and “Slow Down Sagg.”
For his third, and tragically, last release during his lifetime, Nick Drake dazzles us with his mastery of acoustic guitar, revealing a range of different guitar characteristics appropriate for each individual song. The music, stylistically distinct from contemporaneous singer-songwriters or any other music of the early seventies, is effectively timeless, a contention supported partly by its lack of commercial success and more effectively supported by its influence on later Indie-label artists and its continuing influence on singer songwriters up through today.
The Guess Who’s Rockin’ recorded in January of 1972 and released the very next month in February, is yet another example of the creativity of Burton Cummings who displays a high level of both jazz and rock keyboard and compositional skills. Though not their best album, it is yet another hand raised asking the rhetorical question, why, given both the band’s commercial success and the number of successful singles and albums, is the Guess Who or Burton Cummings not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
With the release of their fourth studio album, Grave New World, and their first since the departure of Rick Wakeman to Yes, The Strawbs effectively combine folk and prog-rock, with an impressively, more-progressive side two with “Tomorrow” being the stand out track. Though ostensibly a concept album, the specifics or overarching theme of the concept is not particularly evident — but in the larger scheme that is relatively unimportant, as there is much to like musically, with the ultimate result being that this the Strawbs best effort.
As one might expect, there were a few albums that missed out on a more commercially favorable pre-holiday release and ended up being released in January 1972 with both January and February being relatively lean months in rock album releases compared to any given month in the last half of 1971. Fortunately, there were some notable jazz releases including a jazz classic by Charles Mingus!
Charles Mingus: Let My Children Hear Music
Mingus gives it everything he has in this album: complex, profound, majestic, modern, accessible and often elegant compositions, a large jazz orchestra, excellent arrangements (in partnership with Sy Johnson and others), and top-notch execution of his ideas. The music is a feast from the first to last track, with the current CD of this containing a bonus track. Note that this music was partly edited by Teo Macero, but I am not aware of any release of the original unedited material. If you know of such, please comment. ALBUM LINER NOTES
Hugh Masekela: Home is Where the Music Is
In 1972, I was not yet purchasing or listening to albums by either Hugh Masekela or Archie Shepp, so even if my memory was much better than it is today, I wouldn’t have a clue when these albums actually hit the record store bins, but as both albums were recorded in January of 1972, please allow me to include them in this month’s celebration of the music of January 1972.
Recorded in London in January 1972, Hugh Masakela’s Home is Where the Music Is is a 2LP set with some of the finest, broadly commercially-oriented jazz of the early seventies that there is. The album boasts all original material with not a single interpretation of a pop song (contrast this to Masakela’s 1970 Reconstruction album which includes tunes by Paul McCartney [Beatles-era], Joni Mitchell, and Motown’s Holland-Dozier-Holland) and yet is as contemporary as anything put out by Blood, Sweat and Tears, Chase or several other of the jazz-rock outfits of the late sixties and early seventies — and more importantly — far surpassing most of those type of efforts in quality and distinctiveness. Each track is fully realized with the shortest at around 5 1/2 minutes and the longest around 10 1/2 minutes. The playing is exceptional, engaging, and aesthetically fulfilling.
Archie Shepp: Attica Blues
Though well known for his modern jazz masterpieces like the avant-garde Fire, his abilities to reach a broader music-consuming audience are successfully deployed, with both style and impressive vigor, in what should have been an album as popular as contemporaneous releases by groups like Sly and the Family Stone. This is a large-scale effort with over twenty-five musicians (including brass, reeds, strings, backing vocalists, and electric instruments) and two narrators that successfully balances soul, funk, jazz and rock elements. Despite its strong points, there is some weakness in the poetry and the vocal rendition provided by Cal Massey’s young daughter — but more than making up for any weak areas of the release is the penultimate track on the album, Cal Massey’s fine tribute, “Good-Bye Sweet Pops,” to the great Louis Armstrong who had recently died from a heart attack in July of 1971.
Annette Peacock: I’m the One
Released in January of 1972, Annette Peacock’s debut album is yet another early 1972 album that successfully brings together disparate musical elements performed by a larger ensemble. Peacock and team effectively incorporated blues, jazz, rock, free-jazz, classical avant-garde, trace elements of funk and soul, and a extensive use of Robert Moog’s moog synthesizer to create a complete and impressive musically satisfying work. Notable, historically, was Peacock’s use of the synthesizer to modulate and alter vocal input via microphone plugged into the synthesizer. She also deserves credit for her overall and varied use of the synthesizer instrumentally as well as the wide range of vocal expression she uses, some of which anticipates music of later decades.
Univeria Zekt: The Unnamables
Released in January of 1972, Magma provisionally assumes the name Univeria Zekt to temporarily step away from their newly created narrative of the Kobaïan universe in order to, perhaps, provide a diversion to existing fans or, possibly, to attract new fans. The album is solidly progressive rock with heavy jazz and some jazz-rock influences, with a musical style significantly different (particularly on the first side) from the darker, neo-primal style of the two preceding Magma albums, which constructed a formidable genre of music, termed Zeuhl — a style of music created to be reflective and representative of the music of the fictitious Kobaïa. Those not able to get enough of early Magma, but also open to embracing this detour into a more jazz-influenced sound (closer perhaps to Mahavishnu Orchestra, Weather Report, or Return Forever) should also acquire this one-of-a-kind album under the Univeria Zekt name.
Paul Simon: Paul Simon
Paul Simon’s first solo album, post-Simon & Garfunkel, did well commercially, with three singles making it on to the Billboard charts, “Mother and Child Reunion”, a reggae-influenced number with the title inspired by the Chinese chicken and egg soup dish he noticed listed on a Chinese restaurant menu in New York, the upbeat “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard”, and “Duncan”, my favorite track on the album, reminiscent of music he was writing in the late sixties.
Blue Öyster Cult, Jerry Garcia, Captain Beefheart, Jimi Hendrix
Additional albums include the dark, debut Blue Öyster Cult album with its gratuitous and influential use of an umlaut (a feature to gain common adoption by later Heavy Metal band names such as Queensrÿche, Mötley Crüe, and even the fictional Spın̈al Tap), Jerry Garcia’s Garcia, Captain Beefheart’s relatively traditional and bluesy Spotlight Kid, as well as a posthumous album of Jimi Hendrix live material from 1969 and 1970, Hendrix in The West.
Bowie’s fourth studio album, released Dec. 17, 1971, is a bit of a hodge-podge collection of generally strong tracks, some of which harken back to his English Music Hall influences, and one (“Queen Bitch”) near the end of side two, that foreshadows his Ziggy Stardust album, personna, and musical styles.
The album is peppered with optimism and several upbeat numbers, leading off with Bowie’s invigorating “Changes” with Rick Wakeman on piano, Bowie’s artful handling of tempo contrasts and meter changes, and a reflective Bowie sax solo that wraps up his finest song to date. This is followed by another expertly arranged, well-crafted song, deftly executed with appropriate vocal expression by Bowie with verses and chorus particularly well matched. Other fine songs include “Life on Mars”, “Kooks”, “Fill Your Heart”, “Andy Warhol” and “Queen Bitch.” The combination of Bowie’s expressive and varied vocals, the high quality of music, and the excellent arrangements and performances, make this a particularly notable leap forward in Bowie’s soon-to-be explosive career.
George Harrison & Friends: Concert for Bangladesh
There is so much to like about this important document of music and charity, released on December 20, 1971, consolidated from two concerts, one afternoon, one evening, at Madison Square Garden on August 1, 1971. Not only a laudable effort to raise money for the horrific situation in Bangladesh at that time, but it notably provided the inspiration and motivation for other charity concerts that would follow.
The six-sided LP album (with the last side being relatively short) not only contains eight compositions and performances showcasing George Harrison, with support from Eric Clapton, a horn section and a number of other talented performers, but also a side of performances from Bob Dylan, as well as single performances from Billy Preston, Ringo Starr (on Ringo’s George Harrison aided composition, “It Don’t Come Easy”) and Leon Russell. Also, importantly, side one contains a partial performance of a beautifully performed dhun by Ravi Shankar on sitar, Ali Akbar on sarod, Kamala Chakravarty on tambura, and Alla Rakha on tabla. For many of us, this was our first exposure to Hindustani classical music, and helped provide a surge of interest in Ravi Shankar and Hindustani music, at a time when world music was achieving more and more exposure and popularity.
Carole King: Music
In December 1971, Carole King followed up her incredibly successful Tapestry with another fine album. She brings back artists like James Taylor on guitar (also providing magical mix on vocals with King on “Some Kind of Wonderful”) and Curtis Amy on tenor sax with additional artists added like Ernie Watts and Buddy Collette. All songs are classic Carole King with “It’s Going to Take Some Time” being especially notable, as well as Amy’s solo on the title track, “Music.”
King Crimson: Islands
Recorded in October of 1971 and released on December 3, 1971, I first saw Islands in the first Orange County Warehouse record store a couple of weeks prior to Christmas. Rather than the more intriguing cover provided for the UK market (shown above), it was a simple cover, mostly white with representations of islands — the cover based on a painting by King Crimson lyricist Pete Sinfield. I purchased this with some classical music on the Supraphon label, all at a nice price, and anxiously awaited being able to listen to it at home later that day.
My initial reaction to the album was deep disappointment. I had expectations based on their previous albums, one of which, their second album, I had to special order just to get a copy, one damaged in transit, but which I never thought of not purchasing when it came in, despite the superficial cover damage, as I couldn’t wait to hear the music. And I couldn’t wait to hear the music of this, their fourth studio album, but when played, from the first few minutes, it was clear that there was little in common with their previous albums.
My money was not easily obtained, my source for it hourly wages during early morning and lunch hours at our high school cafeteria, a job I enjoyed, serving soft drinks to an endless supply of the many beautiful young ladies at our high school, and able to comfortably socialize with fellow students, many of whom I otherwise would have been strangers with. So I didn’t put the album away and move on to something else. I played it repeatedly, and not only due to the money involved (which was only $2.99, and so not a major setback), but because I sensed an excellence throughout the album. No, it wasn’t the driving progressive music of prior King Crimson albums –it was more cerebral, reflective and ambient, but it still had a coherence and attractiveness, and after about five more listenings, I embraced the album, still the least favorite of my first four King Crimson albums, and an album that wouldn’t hold up to the next three Crimson studio albums to follow, but one I considered well worth the money and then some.
Electric Light Orchestra: Electric Light Orchestra
Recorded around the same time that the core ELO personnel, Roy Wood, Jeff Lynne and Bev Bevan, were recording the last Move album, Message From the Country (covered in October’s Fifty Year Friday) this first ELO album was released in the UK in December of 1971 but not released in the US until for months later, in March of 1972. Soon the first track, the incredible and irresistable “10538 Overture” got FM airplay, followed with its release as a single in the UK. I don’t believe it ever got any airplay in the U.S. on AM, but other music on the album continued to get FM exposure. Whereas their last Move album was mostly traditional rock (if any rock in 1971 can truly be labelled as such), this first ELO is more orchestral and progressive in nature, with a definite upbeat popular slant.
America: America
Many know America from the single from this album, the incredibly monotonous “Horse With No Name” (not inappropriately, though, as the music supports the lyrics effectively. Overall, this first album, released at the end of 1971 in the UK and then in 1972 in the U.S., is quite good, with a wealth of acoustic guitar, with musical similarities that would appeal to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young fans, and with several good tracks, including “Rainy Day” and the Badfinger-like ballad “I Need You.”
Badfinger: Straight Up
For those in December 1971 and early 1972 that were not exactly thrilled with the content of Paul McCartney’s December 1971 release, Wild Life, they might possibly have found comfort in Harrison’s Bangladesh Concert album, ELO’s late-Beatle’s influenced first album, or even in Badfinger’s borderline Beatlesque Straight Up, which includes a number of good tracks, the best of which is “Day After Day” which hearkens back to the era of the Beatle’s Revolver album.
Looking back fifty years, one can identify a number of months in the early 1970s, particularly those approaching the end of year, whose bounty of riches border on the spectacular. Such is the case with November 1971, which I could easily argue is the very best month of releases in the entire history of the Long Playing record — and going beyond that, extending also into the digital (CD and streaming) age.
Besides highlighting some of the more outstanding releases of November 1971, I also have included a few albums I had missed mentioning earlier — albums released in 1971, but before November. That certainly gives us a lot to cover, but whether fortunately or unfortunately for you, the reader, my time to do blog writing is extremely limited — and this month, I have almost no bandwidth. I am going to be challenged to just list my favorite albums, let alone say anything of substance. However, as regular readers can attest, I rarely say anything substantial in this column anyway (thankfully the music stands on its own) and I do my best to say a few words of no special consequence in my limited time. I certainly can’t, wouldn’t and have no reason to fault any reader that prefers to just quickly glance at what albums are mentioned, which by itself justifies my effort and is as much as I expect and actually have any reason to expect. That said, I am going to see how much I can tackle before the last friday of the month arrives, and as I always have done, post whatever I have, whether readable or not.
It’s also important to note the increasing prevalence of synthesizers in so many albums of this time period. Ever since hearing Switched on Bach around 1969, I developed an undeniable affection for the thrilling portamento and the more blatantly artificial wave forms produced by keyboard synthesizers. In November of 1971, we get several classic albums that place the synthesizer in a very prominent role.
Yes: Fragile
Yes releases their fourth (and finest up to that date) studio album on November 26, 1971. Rick Wakeman has been added to replace Tony Kaye, further raising the potential of the group — potential that was immediately realized starting with this fourth album, Fragile, a classic from the day it was available in record stores — and classic, not just in the sense of being of highest merit and quality, but in terms of stylistic characteristics such as direct, concise, clearly defined, and finely balanced components as well as an elegant use of contrast — both in mood and musical dynamics. The music avoids excesses and, with a couple of minor exceptions, is economical, avoiding the kind of excessive repetition so prevalent in most rock music.
Yes went into the studio with four finished compositions which make up most of the album. All of these four tracks received some FM airplay, and a slimmed down version of “Roundabout” received significant AM airplay peaking at 13. For the remaining portion of the album each band member contributed their own solo works, with Wakeman’s condensation of the Brahms quasi-scherzo from the 4th symphony, Anderson’s “We Have Heaven” and Bruford’s “Five Per Cent for Nothing” all being distinctly original. With the exception of Howe’s “Mood for a Day” and Squire’s “The Fish (Schindleria Praematurus)”, both still excellent and contribute to the stunning impact of the album, but which are slightly overextended through repetition of material, this album approaches perfection, achieving a level of musical distinction equal to the very best rock albums of all time.
Emerson, Lake and Palmer: Pictures at an Exhibition
Recorded in March of 1971 and released in November of 1971, this exuberantly energetic live album captures Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s concert rendition of Modest Mussorgsky’s classic piano suite, Pictures at an Exhibition. Already in love with ELP’s first two albums, this would have been an album I would have purchased on sight. However, it was my next door neighbor that sighted it first, bought it immediately, and brought it over for me to listen to and record on my reel to reel for future listening. At that point, cash-constrained as most sixteen-year olds, I was content to listen on that 3 3/4 IPS (inches per second) copy of the album over and over again until college when I finally bought my own LP copy of it.
Prior to this recording, most people knew of Mussorgsky’s great work from Maurice Ravel’s orchestral version. Ravel is one of the great composers of the first part of the twentieth century, and very skilled at orchestration with a number of his own compositions, originally written for piano, then very effectively scored for an orchestra. He had worked with Stravinsky on a performance version of Mussorgsky’s unfinished opera, Khovanshchina, and thus very well prepared in 1922 to tackle Pictures. The result was an excellent work, but was clearly Ravel’s own vision and interpretation — the original, which deftly represents both the viewer of the gallery and his mood and perceptions of the objects on display, is quite different from Ravel’s interpretation, with the original piano composition having a darker and more inward perspective. Ravel is focused on creating a grand work with its own identity, bringing to the table his own compositional and cultural mindsets and not particularly beholden to the mood and intent of the original. That doesn’t mean that this final orchestrated version is any less worthy of being enjoyed because it isn’t particularly faithful to the spirit or personality and attitude of the original — it just means it should be listened to and enjoyed on its own terms. The same pretty much applies to ELP’s version, which not only “orchestrates” the original piano work with modern rock trio (keyboards, bass, drums) but also adds vocals and new material.
Of course, the piece starts off with the promenade theme, played very simply by Emerson but with the grandeur that a real organ, the organ used at Newcastle City Hall (the venue for the live recording), can provide. The first picture follows, “Gnome”, with Palmer’s staccato and perfectly punctuated percussion dancing with Lake’s bass, providing the appropriate dramatic setting for the eventual entrance of Emerson’s moog synthesizer — making clear this is not Ravel’s concert hall Pictures. This, then, is the final catalyst to fully engage the listener into the magic and ferocity of this post-Ravel, prog-rock version of Pictures. The album ends with ELP’s take on Kim Fowleys’ take on Tchaikovsky’s “March” from his Nutcracker Ballet.
It’s worth noting that ELP’s Pictures at an Exhibition was at one point considered more appropriate as a Nonesuch Records label release due to its classical origins. It might have also been part of a 2 LP set with Trilogy (ELP’s subsequent album), except that public demand, particularly after the concert recording was played on WNEW-FM (New York), convinced the Atlantic execs to release it sooner, and as its own album.
Genesis: Nursery Cryme
Released November 12, 1971, this already highly creative and musically skilled group adds world-class drummer, Phil Collins. Though Nursery Cryme is not at the level of sound quality as Yes’s Fragile or quite as impressive in terms of focused musical content, this is a nuanced, highly crafted album that starts off incredibly strong with “Musical Box” and includes Genesis’s first masterwork, “The Attack of the Giant Hogweed.”
Traffic: The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys
This classic fifth studio album was a staple of FM AOR (album-oriented radio) stations, with “The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys” getting most of the airplay, but the rest of the album getting some time also. In fact, I am pretty sure this was the second rock album I heard played in full on FM radio (the first being Webber and Rice’s Jesus Christ Superstar, which was played in its entirety in very late October or very early November of 1970.)
Led Zeppelin: Led Zeppelin IV
On November 8, 1971, Atlantic Records releases Led Zeppelin’s masterpiece, the unnamed, untitled fourth album. Atlantic internally catalogued it as Four Symbols and The Fourth Album. We used to call it “Zofo” from the first of those four symbols on the LP label. People smarter than us, or people from England who were more used to lines crossing through lower case “s”s than those of us in Orange County, California, would just as incorrectly call it “Zoso” since the designer of the symbols, guitarist Jimmy Page had not intended for these four symbols to represent anything rather than the four band members of Led Zeppelin.
Now I admit, I would rather listen to the guitar craft of Jimi Hendrix, or the two guitarists I mention later in this blog post, John McLaughlin and George Benson, or a number of other guitarists such as Django Reinhardt, Eddie Lang, Wes Montgomery, Jim Hall, Grant Green, Tal Farlow, Gary Green, Steve Howe, Robert Fripp, Steve Hackett, Andrés Segovia — as well as a number of others — however, I still enjoy every moment of Jimmy Page captured on this album, a unquestionably skilled and creative guitarist at the world class level.
In fact, I pretty much enjoy every moment on this album — one of those musical treasure chests of the early 1970s. It may not generally be labelled as progressive rock, but it really is, from the focused abstraction of rock and roll in “Black Dog” to the refined distillation of rock and roll in “Rock and Roll”, to the epic “The Battle of Evermore” with its gorgeous acoustic guitar, to the bouncy, again abstract, “Misty Mountain Hop” and the frenzied and contrastingly uplifting “Four Sticks”, to the best work of the album, “Stairway to Heaven”, possibly consciously or unconsciously influenced by Spirit’s “Taurus” (Led Zeppelin opened for Spirit for Spirit’s 1968 U.S. tour) but nonetheless a definite improvement over the alleged original. Though I may be a bit more advanced in my musical tastes today, I vividly remember listening to this album on headphones almost fifty years ago, the album borrowed from my next-door neighbor who purchased it in late November or December of 1971, and being totally swept away by the impact of the entire album.
Sly and the Family Stone: There’s a Riot Going On
Released on the first of November, 1971, created by Sly Stone during the depths of his stratospheric-recreational drug abuse, this is a masterpiece not only to be taken very seriously musically and artistically but even more seriously historically.
The album starts of with the incredible “Luv N’ Haight”, a psychedelicized, celebratory blues-based number, underpinned by lyrics that could either be interpreted as also celebratory (“Feel so good inside myself, don’t want to move”) or subtly dark (“As I grow up, I’m growing down and when I’m lost, I know I will be found.”) The lyrics for the second track provide the same type of ambiguity (“Just like a baby everything is new” and “Just like a baby sometimes I cry. Just like a baby I can feel it when you lie to me.’), and though open to a wide range of interpretation, appear to be referring to rebirth or re-awakening, though not clear if from some spiritual rebirth or transformation, or from drugs or trauma. The third track seemingly unsubstantial with simple lyrics that still get to the heart of songwriting (“My weapon is my pen and the frame of mind I’m in) is one of the most sampled songs ever.
The fourth track, “Family Affair”, one of the highlights of the album, was played substantially on AM radio starting in early November 1971, and went over my head both musically and lyrically, excused to some degree by only hearing it on the shoddy speakers of our school bus that took us over to our high school. In terms of lyrics, it is open to interpretation, but I think the interpretation is clear when one embraces the two apparent co-existing meanings: commentary on nature versus nurture (the disadvantages of being in a disadvantaged family unit) and family bonds. Underscoring these meanings is the understated arrangement (I believe Freddie Stone on guitar, Billy Preston on keyboards, and bass and drums) and assignment of vocals to just Sly and his sister Rose, particularly inviting us to connect “One child grows up to be somebody that just loves to learn and another child grows up to be somebody you’d just love to burn” to Rose and Sly, respectively. This is followed by the bleak “Africa Talks to You” (“Timber, all fall down”) with its eventual complex instrumental interplay, which contrasts sharply with the simpler music of the previous track. The first side ends with an absent track (or a track of zero length, if you prefer), “There’s a Riot Goin’ On” — a very clever commentary which Sly intended to simply indicate that since he didn’t like riots, there was no corresponding song. The second side continues with more excellent music, including the infectious “(You Caught Me) Smilin’ — once again apparently intentionally ambiguous as to whether it is statement against or for drug usage: “You caught me smilin’ again, hangin’ loose, ’cause you ain’t used to seeing me turnin’ on, ha ha” and “I ain’t down. I’ll be around to carry on!” Is this ironic and sarcastic or in praise of the release that drugs provide?
Besides admiring the artistic merit of the album, it’s worth considering its historical impact. Though there are plenty examples of funky music and elements of funk before Riot (a common pet name for this album), this really is the first modern funk album, influencing many artists of all backgrounds and musical leanings. It also is substantially the first hip hop album — not in terms of musical style, of course, but in terms of narrative and borderline-obsessive personal reflection. And, I will boldly, if not controversially venture, that if we remove this album from the historical river, that the currents of disco would have been perceivably altered — maybe for the worse, if that’s conceivably possible. It worth noting, that many critics did not get this album at all when it came out, including our local Southern California L.A. Times music critic who generally was befuddled by, or more often shied away from (handing the review to another staff writer), any music with any level of complexity. Now fortunately, just about all music critics are in unison when acknowledging both the artistic and historical merit of this fine album.
Osibisa: Osibisa
With the increasing interest in World music, particularly that from the Caribbean and West Africa, conditions were receptive for a jazz-influenced, musically compelling, Afro-beat group of four Ghanaian-English musicians and three Caribbean musicians. Osibisa’s first album, released in the first half of 1971, made its entry into the Billboard 200 the first week of July, 1971 at position 105, climbing up to position 55 by mid-August. The rhythm section is incredible (remember their inclusion on Uriah Heep’s title track of Look At Yourself) with the dedicated drummer supplemented by other members of the group as appropriate. Instruments include assorted percussion, flute, saxophones, trumpet, flugelhorn, organ, piano, guitar, bass guitar and some vocals. Album is both technically impressive, and musically vibrant, filling in the checkboxes for world music aficionados and progheads alike.
Osibisa: Woyaya
The second album, released in late 1971, has a similar Roger Dean album cover to the first, and the band members are the same (with the exception of an appearance of the “Osibisa choir” which provides an additional uplifting, spiritual to the third track, Roland Kirk’s “Spirits Up Above”), yet the quality is noticeably different — better engineering, less spontaneous but now exquisitely polished, and leaning more towards American jazz and even English progressive and psychedelic rock with less of a West African and Caribbean feel — even containing some American funk (“Move On”.) Though this album fell short of the previous album’s climb up the Billboard charts (only 66 compared to 55) it is even better than the first, perhaps with a greater appeal to a broad audience, particularly with the anthem, title-track, “Woyaya” being covered by Art Garfunkel and The 5th Dimensions and used as the theme for a Ghanaian television show from 1972 to 1981.
Assagai: Assagai
Though less musically stylistically diverse than Osibisa, Assagai’s first album is a enjoyable blend of African folk, African rock, and African jazz elements. The group consists of band members on cornet, alto sax, tenor sax, and drummer — all from South Africa — and an electric guitarist and an bass guitarist from Nigeria, with some additional piano possibly from the alto sax player, Dudu Pukwana. Album is mostly original material by the guitarist, Fred Coker, with one composition by Dudu Pukwana, one collaboration between Coker and Jade Warrior guitarist, Tony Duhig, as a well as a cover of Jade Warrior’s “Telephone Girl” (from their first album) and Paul McCartney’s “Hey Jude.” Of all the various covers of Hey Jude I know of, this is one of the best, relatively brief at under 4 minutes, and infused with a rich tapestry of Afro-beat seasonings.
Jade Warrior: Jade Warrior
(One of the albums I previously missed covering in Fifty Year Friday.) In 1970, Vertigo signed Jade Warrior primarily due to Mother Mistro, the production company for both Assagai and Jade Warrior, insisting that Vertigo couldn’t sign Assagai, a group coveted by Vertigo for their commercial potential (based on Osibisa relative success) without also signing Jade Warrior. Vertigo, though, had made up their collective mind that Jade Warrior had very little commercial potential and so didn’t put in any real effort promoting Jade Warrior’s first album, Jade Warrior, released sometime in the first part of 1971. Interestingly, Assagai would release a total of two albums, both on Vertigo, while Jade Warrior would release well over a dozen with the first three on Vertigo, and the next four on Island Records.
Even if this first album was not particularly commercially appealing, it was musically so, opening up with the beautiful “Traveller” with its simple acoustic beginning, its majestic middle section, and its quiet ending followed by the more aggressive, mostly pentatonic “A Prenormal Day at Brighton” providing a good representation at Jade Warrior’s balancing act between hard progressive rock (“warrior” portion of the group’s name) and soft worldly folk rock (“jade”), sometimes with emphasis on acoustic guitar and flute with some additional, non-traditional percussion and sometimes more in a rock idiom with the electric guitar in the forefront. Overall a fine eclectic album that still sounds great today.
Jade Warrior: Released
With their second album, Jade Warrior shifts away from a world music vibe to focus more on hard rock, jazz rock and progressive rock elements, adding two new members, Dave Conners (sax, flute) and Allan Price (drums) to the pre-existing trio.
Ash Ra Tempel: Ash Ra Tempel
Another album I missed mentioning, released around June of 1971, is the classic first album of Ash Ra Tempel, one of the finest German space rock albums, a style often referred to asKosmische Musik (cosmic music.) We have a single composition on each side, improvisations similar to what one could expect during a live performance. The first side is adventurous, extroverted and like a peril-filled voyage through outer space, starting gently and then encountering the more unpredictable moments of cosmic exploration. The second side is calmer, introverted and reflective, like a journey through spiritual innerspace. Overall, far above one of the best musical adventures of space rock, each of these two tracks compelling and creating an unfolding, meaningful soundscape.
Strawbs: From the Witchwood
And yet another album I missed earlier, the Strawb’s Witchwood starts off pretty much as folk music, by the third track is it full-throttle prog rock. This is Rick Wakeman’s last album for the Strawbs, and his keyboards raises the album up the scale of musical excellence including an effective organ intro for “The Hangman and the Papist.” Overall there are some similarities with Genesis’s Nursery Cryme and Foxtrot, both of which were recorded after From the Witchwood was released.
Le Orme: Collage
Le Orme’s first album, recorded in 1968 and released in 1969 was effectively an early prog rock album, with an album title of Ad Gloriam, an opening track named “Introduzione”, a closing track titled “Conclusione” and many of the lyrical and the Italian rock equivalent of the bel canto elements that would become identifiers of the Italian Prog rock style. With their second album, Collage, released sometime in 1971, they shift to full prog mode, reducing the group to a ELP-like trio, quoting the classics (or at least Scarlatti’s K. 380 sonata, a piece I heard over and over from piano student performances during my university years), and exploring the more aggressive and bombastic aspects of early Italian prog but not abandoning the lyrical or expressive components.
Man: Do You Like It Here Now, Are You Settling In?
Man released their fourth and strongest album so far on November 1971. Though a bit uneven, the musicianship is consistently strong with some ear-catching instrumental interplay such as that on “All Good Clean Fun” and “Many are Called, But Few Get Up” that further increases the impact of the album.
Elton John: Madman Across the Water
Another fourth studio album released, this time by an increasingly popular Elton John. Though Madman didn’t climb quite as high on the Billboard charts as Tumbleweed Connection (number 8 vs number 5) and the airplay provided “Tiny Dancer” couldn’t match “Your Song”, the prevalence of Elton John albums in personal collections was steadily growing. Paul Buckmasters arrangements are applied in full force on this album, and though the album falls short of Tumbleweed Connection, and was a general disappointment for me when I purchased it in late November, shortly after its November 5, 1971 release date, the album not only brims over with those strong Buckmaster arrangements and that strong musicianship from Elton, but from the contributions from a wide range of musicians including Rick Wakeman, Davey Johnstone, Chris Spedding, Herbie Flowers, David Glover and more. I listened to it about half a dozen times in very late 1971 and early 1972 and put it aside until just this week. It’s great to hear it on a much better stereo to appreciate the finer points, but still, it is likely I will again set it aside — good music, for sure, but still so much music I need to listen to!
Lighthouse: One Fine Morning
The Canadian jazz-rock group, Lighthouse, released their fourth and most commercially successful album, One Fine Morning, sometime in 1971, possibly around July or August of 1971. (Yes, another one I missed earlier.) The album is less pop and more solidly jazz-rock than their previous ones, with a number of strong tracks, including the opening track, “Love of a Woman”, “Sing, Sing, Sing” (Not related to the Benny Goodman classic), and the title track, “One Fine Morning”, which debuted on the Billboard 100 in the second week of September at position 75 and eventually ascended to the 24th spot. Plenty of good jazz-rock here with some more traditional rock content. Instrumentation includes trombone, saxophone, flute, trumpet and viola as well as guitar, piano and vibes.
Mahavishnu Orchestra: The Inner Mounting Flame
Formed in the summer of 1971, Mahavishnu recorded their first album in August of 1971, with Columbia releasing it on November 3, 1971. This album is a clear and unquestionable masterpiece combining jazz and progressive rock elements. John McLaughlin wrote all compositions on the album, and selected the band members from an international pool of talent (Czech-born Jan Hammer on keyboards, Panama-born Billy Cobham on drums, classically-trained American violinist Jerry Goodman when French violinist Jean Luc Ponty was not available due to immigration-related regulations, and Irish-born bassist and former McLaughlin bandmate from The Brian Auger Group.)
Miles Davis: Live-Evil
A bountiful 2 LP set of musical wonders with formidable front and back covers by artist Mati Klarwein (Santana’s Abraxis, Osibisa’s Heads, and of course, Bitches Brew) with the album containing both live material recorded on December 19, 1970 and studio material much earlier that year with the release date of the album on November 17,1971. The front and back cover are two sides of the dichotomy of beauty and ugliness (or perhaps more appropriate, beauty and anti-beauty) with the front headlining “MILES DAVIS LIVE” and the back proclaiming the reverse, or mirror image, as if seen from the other side of the album, “SELIM SIVAD EVIL.”
The fifteen minutes, four tracks, of studio material is rich, diverse and suitable for hours of exploration. Particularly interesting are the Hermeto Pascoal compositions with “Nem Um Talvez” being my favorite. For keyboard fans, it’s a real treat to get Keith Jarrett, Herbie Hancock and Chick Corea all at once.
The real treasure is the live material. Gary Bartz is great on both soprano and alto sax and the “electric” trumpet with wah-wah is a perfect vehicle for Miles Davis’s creativity and expressiveness. Jack DeJohnette is fantastic and creates magic with everyone, particularly Airto Moreira, Michael Henderson and Keith Jarrett. And then there is John McLaughlin, who shines in this material as much as in that first Mahavishnu Orchestra album.
It’s honestly a bit of a mess the way the live material is presented here due to the Ted Macero edits, perhaps well enough intended, but really throwing a wrench into the continuity and flow of the original performances. The best bet is to stream or pick up the 6 CDs of The Cellar Door Sessions 1970 to hear not only the original material used for this the bulk of this 2 LP Live-Evil release (edited from the sets that John McLaughlin sat in and represented in the fifth and sixth CDs) but the material for the earlier sets on the first four CDs.
George Benson: Beyond the Blue Horizon
Any list of more than the twenty greatest electric guitarists that doesn’t have George Benson gets immediately discounted. He’s really is up there with the greats in terms of guitar technique and taste. This album may be casually classified as traditional post-bop jazz, but with two to three electric instruments on each track and Jack Dejohnette on drums, this is as much jazz fusion as any other albums of its time. Benson fares particularly well with his interaction with Hammond organist Clarence Palmer and DeJohnette is his usual incredible self. Ron Carter provides strong acoustic bass on track one, a particularly engaging rendition of Miles Davis’s “So What”, with funk and fusion elements from both Palmer and Benson. On track 2, “The Gentle Rain”, and track 3, “All Clear”, we have Carter on electric cello far exceeding the effectiveness and expressivity of at least 95% of contemporaneous rock guitarists. The third, fourth and fifth tracks are all Benson compositions with “Ode to a Kudu” relaxing and lyrical, and “Somewhere in the East” pushing out to more progressive and world music territory with a couple of additional percussionists added.
Herbie Hancock: Mwandishi
Another album I missed mentioning, released around March 1971, is Herbie Hancock’s second of his series of three Warner Brother albums, Mwandishi. It is yet another album that dedicates an entire LP side to one track, with the first side containing two contrasting works, the first of which, “Ostinato”, is an imaginative execution of improvising over an repetitively deployed musical pattern and brimming with that special class of rhythmically displaced jazz-funk championed by Herbie Hancock with Eddie Henderson shining on trumpet and Hancock on Fender Rhodes piano. The second track is true to its name, “You’ll Know When You Get There”, musically evocative of the sensation of being on leisurely journey, casually extended — the flute solo fitting in very nicely with the overall mood. The last track, taking up the second side, also provides music befitting it’s title, “Wandering Spirit Song”, with a strong Julian Priester trombone presence that carries into the free jazz section giving us a rough ABA form. Hancock provides compelling contributions on electric piano.
Kinks: Muswell Hillbillies
Released November 24, 1971, is the Kinks fourth (or fifth, if one counts the soundtrack album, Percy) concept album. Musically, there are no stand out tracks, but as a cohesive whole and faithfulness to the overall concept, the album works very well creating an overall experience that transcends the lack of memorable musical content, relying on the more memorable imagery, the well-crafted lyrics, Ray Davies’s distinct characters, Ray Davies’s vocal delivery to convey their viewpoints, and the generally creative and strong musicianship that lifts the more ordinary musical material.
Billy Preston: I Wrote a Simple Song
Released on November 8, 1971, I Wrote a Simple Song, is Billy Preston’s sixth studio album with Preston no longer on the Apple label but now with A & M. A soulful and rhymically lively album, it far exceeds allmusic.com’s two star rating, surpassing in quality most of the albums that allmusic.com rates as three or four stars. With some arrangements courtesy of Quincy Jones, George Harrison on guitar, and Preston’s expansive presence on piano, organ and vocals this album is a true joy to listen to.
John Martyn: Bless The Weather
Released in November, 1971, John Martyn delivers a very strong acoustic folk-rock album. Though I focus much more on music then lyrics, I’m still rather taken by the sentiment of the lyrics of “Let the Good Things Come” particularly lines like “I wish I had walked down, every road I ever set my eyes upon” and “I wish you could get through, to every face and every friend I ever knew.” Album is excellently engineered with quality musicianship. Strongest tracks include the jazz-tinged “Walk to the Water”, “Back Down the River”, and the sparkling instrumental, “Glistening Glyndebourne.”
Faces: A Nod Is As Good As a Wink… to a Blind Horse
Though perhaps my least favorite album mentioned in this post, despite ubiquitous presence in college dorm-room record collections during the early seventies, this third Faces album, A Nod Is As Good As a Wink… to a Blind Horse, released Nov. 17, 1971, is better than the previous two, partly due to Gus Dudgeon’s involvement and partly due to its shorter length, but mostly due to the exceptional last track, “That’s All You Need” and Ronny Wood’s near-historic guitar work on that same composition, and, to a lesser extent, Wood’s playing on “Stay with Me”, a song with such overtly sexist lyrics that current public sensibilities would probably exclude it from release today. Also worth noting is the brilliant and effective punctuation provided by use of the steel drum on “That’s All You Need.” Rod Stewart vocals are generally good, particularly on “Stay With Me” and “That’s All you Need”, and particularly when compared with the Ronnie Lane lead vocals on three of the album’s nine tracks.
Kevin Ayers: Whatevershebringswesing; Laura Nyro: Gonna Take a Miracle; War: All Day Music; Carly Simon: Anticipation; Isaac Hayes: Black Moses; Status Quo: Dog of Two Head; Happy End: Kazemachi Roman; Alice Cooper: Killer; Sweet: Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be; Humble Pie: Performance Rockin’ at the Fillmore; Earth, Wind and Fire: The Need of Love; Harry Nilsson: Nilsson Schmilsson; Billy Joel: Cold Spring Harbor; Barclay James: Barclay James Harvest and Other Short Stories; Mott the Hoople: Brain Capers; Steppenwolf: For Ladies Only; David Axelrod: Rock Messiah
Clearly not enough time to cover all the good and great albums released in November 1971!!! Allow me to continue to stretch your patience and mention a few more.
In November of 1971, both Status Quo and Alice Cooper provided hard rocking albums with Alice Cooper’s Killer containing the classic hard rock hit, “Under My Wheels.” Harry Nilsson released Nilsson Schmilsson, his most commercially successful album opening with the upbeat and bouncy “Gotta Get Up” and a hit cover of Badfinger’s “Without You.” Sweet released their debut album, Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be, but it is more sugary bubblegum pop than glam rock, with glam rock becoming more popular and prevalent in 1972. Billy Joel’s first album, Cold Spring Harbor, with two strong tracks to start the album, was a sonic disaster with the album being unfathomably mastered as a faster speed, raising Billy Joel’s vocal range and timbre and causing all the music to sound rushed. Very puzzling how it got out the door as it clearly is sped up. The remix from 1983 also has issues, truncating the end of the strongest track. “You Can Make Me Free” and, apparently, not quite slowing down the music to the proper speed and pitch.
My friend that lived next door had two brothers, also my good and treasured friends, but not as close in musical preferences. One of them, the youngest of the three boys in the family and born 9 days earlier than I, was a fan of Moody Blues, CSN/CSN&Y (collectively and individually), and Humble Pie, and though I was glad to record his and one of his friend’s Moody Blues and CSN&Y-related albums, I never much took to Humble Pie, and though I never borrowed Humble Pie’s Rockin’ At The Filmore, I did get to hear it when visiting, and even when relistening to it almost half a century later, I have to admit that I still don’t take to either the music or the musicianship. Another album not on my favorite’s list is David Axelrod’s Rock Messiah. Because it is a mix between classical, rock, jazz, I would have bought it when it first came out, except for a scathing review of it in the L.A. Times. Nonetheless, a few years later, when I had ample spending money from teaching piano lessons and consulting at the computer lab, I did purchase it, and found it had its moments but only listened to it once — listening to it again, it doesn’t particularly resonant — overall, not wildly bold, creative, or innovative and nothing that entreats one to listen to it once again.
Laura Nyro released her fifth album, quite soulful and expressive and exclusively covers, each and every one imbued with Nyro’s finely detailed and exquisitely crafted interpretation — plus the addition of Labelle! Kevin Ayers released his third solo album, whatevershebringswesing, full of creativity and generally within the fairly wide progressive rock boundaries, with orchestrations, great musicianship (fellow Gong band members, if you consider Ayers an honorary member of Gong), and a wide range of vocal contributions from Ayers, including a commendable Vincent Price impersonation on the appropriately spooky “Song from the Bottom of a Well.”
It’s really worth recapping how lucky music lovers were in 1971, with all these great releases in November 1971. At this point there was not only great rock, progressive rock, and new jazz coming out, but we also had the latest revival of ragtime picking up steam, the emphasis on original performance practices in classical music, the ever-increasing popularity of baroque music and the corresponding issuing of recordings of a wider range of baroque composers. Beethoven’s 200th birthday in 1970 brought new recordings of Beethoven and one’s choices and access to riches in the public and university libraries was greater than ever. Living in the greater Los Angeles area provided a wealth of variety on FM radio with two full time classical stations, readily available jazz music, folk music from Eastern Europe on Sundays, and full albums played on some of the FM rock stations. And, contrary to the predictions of some of the adults of older generations, this new music of the late sixties and early seventies was not a transient fad or flash in the pan, but was lasting, enduring music — music that generations today still listen to via streaming, or in some rare cases, by purchasing original or re-issued LPs. Today’s easy accessibility of the music of all eras means that I don’t very often reach back into the catalog of the music of the 1960s and 1970s, but when I do, there is always plenty to enjoy!
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