William R. Strickland - William R. Strickland Is Only The Name 1969

One of the most unusual signings by the legendary Deram label, not least of all because he was American, poet/singer/songwriter William R. Strickland was paired with keyboardist/synthesizer player Philip Springer and placed under the direction of Buddy Kaye for one of the most the unique albums of the age, William R. Strickland Is Only the Name. Well will listeners of a certain age recall their first exposure to it, courtesy of the label's budget-priced compilation Wowie Zowie: The World of Progressive Music. Skittering electronics pinged and pongs across "Computer Lover," a sci-fi romance that absolutely predicted later electronic music (not least of all great swathes of ELP's "Karn Evil 9 Third Impression"). And then you ventured into the LP to discover a quite astonishing collision between beat-styled poetry and progressive rock, with Strickland's acoustic guitar playing off Springer's sympathetic and versatile backings. Hammond organ sweeps across "Romeo De La Route," sax jazzes up "You Know My Body," while pastoral flute ripples through "Touch." All the while, Strickland strums his guitar and riffs on the themes of life and love. "World War 3 1/2," however, is his piece de resistance. Imagine Arlo Guthrie eagerly joining the army instead of successfully dodging the draft, and going off to boot camp and then a futuristic war. It's a witheringly sardonic look at the military mentality that leaves the rest of the songs lyrically in the shade. It's an adventurous and bold album, that has remained little more than a collector's item in the years since its release. But it was certainly worthy of resurrection and reissue. AMG.

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Gary Boyle - Electric Glide 1978

Fans of mid-'70s King Crimson or early-'70s John McLaughlin could do a lot worse than land Gary Boyle's second solo album in their CD player or on their turntable. The ex-Isotope guitarist shows a thorough familiarity with the scales, and he (and the rest of the instrumentalists here) show a great affinity for 16th and 32nd notes, but the playing is always interesting enough and the shifting textures sufficiently diverse to hold one's interest across just over a half-hour -- the presence of guitarist Gary Moore, among others, doesn't hurt in that regard either. Electric Glide is very much of its era, steeped in mid-'70s jazz-rock, and there are a few moments that come perilously close to recalling the Mahavishnu Orchestra's Birds of Fire album -- luckily, he surrounds those intensely challenging moments with some more gently lyrical material, most notably the title track, which might have had a shot at some radio success, had it been a single. AMG.

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Elderberry Jak - Long overdue 1970

West Virginia has never exactly been a hotbed of great rock & roll music, but a number of burnished gems have been extracted from this famous coal-mining region down through years, few and far between as those may have been. Of the few, Elderberry Jak's sole 1970 album may shine with the most luster of all, and quite probably still remains the state's most significant and single finest contribution to the hard rock pantheon. And quite a contribution it indeed turns out to be, as this straight reissue from Gear Fab helps us to hear. Elderberry Jak may be all but forgotten outside the borders of West Virginia, but they were, for a short time, something like heroes in their home region (indicated by the admiring liner notes by journalist Tim Lilley), and Long Overdue makes clear that current memories definitely are not infallible. In fact, the album's best moments hold their own rather well against such heavyweights of the era as the Guess Who, Three Dog Night, the James Gang, and Grand Funk Railroad, among others, all bands to which the Jak bears passing or incidental resemblance, and, frankly, at times surpasses. That particularly goes for the singing of Joe Cerisano, an inspiring holler that is every bit the equal of white soul men like Burton Cummings, Robert Lamm, and, especially, Paul Rodgers, even Robert Plant in its more manic moments, though Cerisano never drifts toward the hyperbolic, unlike Led Zeppelin's frontman. The band is nearly their vocalist's match in skill. Tom Nicholas had a chunky guitar tone that was close kin to Joe Walsh's viscous playing. Dave Coombs' basslines are wonderful, near-virtuoso things, while Joe Hartman pounded a novel (at the time) double-bass drum setup that gave the music its devouring rumble. It was an accomplished power-trio equally capable of playing the odd delicate ballad ("Inspired," "My Lady") or breezy, romantic grooves endemic only to the era ("Going Back Home," "Forrest on the Mountain") then letting loose with blood-cooking electric jams like the awesome "Vance's Blues" or the near-metal "Restless Feeling," always shot through with considerable soul. And somehow Elderberry Jak impossibly managed to turn Procol Harum's "Wish Me Well" into a blazing white-hot piece of legitimate funk, only matched on the ofay side of the fence by Grand Funk's "Nothing's the Same." Not bad for four kids from Appalachia. AMG.

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Eddie Hazel - Game, Dames and Guitar Thangs 1977

A hidden gem among the many Parliament/Funkadelic-affiliated albums released during the mid- to late '70s, Eddie Hazel's only official solo album may not sport any perennial classics and may be a bit short on content, yet it became incredibly revered in subsequent years following its quiet release. Part of this album's magnetic allure to P-Funk fans no doubt arises from its rare status as a considerable collector's item capable of fetching substantial prices. There's more to the album than rarity, though. Hazel never really garnered the acclaim he deserved as a pioneering funk-metal guitarist during his time, and this album showcases just how stunning his guitar abilities really were. Each of the six full-length songs on the brief album feature Hazel laying down fiery guitar solos over loose song structures while the rest of his bandmates hold the song together and the Brides of Funkenstein handle a majority of the vocals. The two epic covers of "California Dreamin'" and "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" -- clocking in at six-and-a-half and nine-and-a-half minutes, respectively -- demonstrate this perhaps better than anything else on the album, as the band spends more time jamming than concerning itself with staying true to the originals. The other songs here are rather traditional late-'70s Parliament/Funkadelic songs written by George Clinton and Bootsy Collins that emphasize yet more of Hazel's manic lead guitar. Though this album doesn't exactly boast great songwriting or stand as a landmark album in the sense of Mothership Connection, it does feature some amazing guitar work on Hazel's part, clearly a vehicle for his soloing. And that in itself makes it great and worth hearing, particularly since the pioneering guitarist seemed to disappear into near oblivion after the Maggot Brain album, leaving fans with little recorded output to appreciate after his untimely demise. AMG.

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Wet Willie - Drippin Wet 1973

This is the album to start with on Wet Willie, and their real best-of, a surging, forceful concert recording of white Southern soul and blues-rock at its best. The band holds its own alongside outfits like the Allman Brothers -- no, this isn't the kind of history-making set that At Fillmore East by the latter band constituted, but it is a great show presenting this group and its members at their very best. The playing is hard and muscular, the singing rich and expressive, and they have serious fun with numbers like "Red Hot Chicken" (stretched to ten minutes) and do a nice, laidback "Macon Hambone Blues," surrounded by crunchy renditions of pieces like "Airport." What's more, they switch effortlessly from a lean, guitar-centered blues-rock to a much funkier, sax-driven sound -- maybe it was that diversity that prevented Wet Willie from really breaking big outside of the Southeast. The vibes they were picking up from the audience on New Year's Eve at the Warehouse in New Orleans make this a compelling concert document. AMG.

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Ian Carr's Nucleus - Out of The Long Dark 1979

Nucleus began its long jazz-rock journey in 1969, when it was originally formed by trumpeter Ian Carr. They attracted a following after a successful performance at the Montreux International Festival in 1970, which led to the critical success of albums Elastic Rock and We'll Talk About It Later. The other members consisted of saxophonist Karl Jenkins, drummer John Marshall, and guitarist Chris Spedding. Spedding split after the first two albums, but the rest of the lineup lasted until 1972, when Jenkins and Marshall both left to join Soft Machine. Belladonna was the first album with only Carr, and although he enlisted the help of guitarist Allan Holdsworth, the band eventually became a solo venture for his music. They finally broke up in the mid-'80s after several Carr-only albums. AMG.

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Hubert Laws - Romeo and Juliet 1976

A talented flutist whose musical interest was never exclusively straight-ahead jazz, Hubert Laws exceeded Herbie Mann in popularity in the 1970s when he recorded for CTI. He was a member of the early Jazz Crusaders while in Texas (1954-1960) and he also played classical music during those years. In the 1960s, Laws made his first recordings as a leader (Atlantic dates from 1964-1966) and gigged with Mongo Santamaria, Benny Golson, Jim Hall, James Moody, and Clark Terry, among many others. His CTI recordings from the first half of the 1970s made Laws famous and were a high point, particularly compared to his generally wretched Columbia dates from the late '70s. He was less active in the 1980s, but has come back with a pair of fine Music Masters sessions in the 1990s. After those releases, a tribute to Nat King Cole arrived in 1998, followed four years later by a stab at Latin jazz, Baila Cinderella. The sharp and cool Moondance appeared in spring 2004. Hubert Laws has the ability to play anything well, but he does not always seem to have the desire to perform creative jazz. AMG.

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Fatback Band - Raising Hell 1975

Fatback's second album of 1975 is a serious improvement over Yum Yum: the arrangements are tighter, the hooks are stronger, and the grooves keep the listener riveted from start to finish. It downplays the live feel of previous albums like Keep on Steppin' in favor of a more carefully arranged feel that highlights the tasty keyboard and synthesizer work of Gerry Thomas. Raising Hell also produced two major hits for the group: "(Are You Ready) Do the Bus Stop" capitalizes on the dance craze of the title with a steady bass-driven groove that works in layers of keyboards, guitars, and horns to keep things interesting, and "Spanish Hustle" is a propulsive dance jam that alternates synthesizer flights of fancy with intense Latin percussion breaks guaranteed to make the listeners shake their hips. The album tracks that back up these singles don't make their presence felt as strongly, but none ever descend to the level of filler: "Groovy Kind of Day" alternates smooth harmony vocals with jazzy electric-piano riffs to create a smooth mid-tempo track and the group's cover of the Four Tops' classic "I Can't Help Myself" is cleverly re-arranged to fit Fatback's dancefloor format . The result is a fine collection of funky dance music that helped Fatback solidify their reputation as one of New York's foremost disco groups. It remains just as listenable and is worth a spin for disco and funk fans alike. AMG.

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Fairport Convention - Babbacombe Lee 1971

The group's only concept album (similar in some ways to the Pretty Things' S.F. Sorrow), built around the life story of John "Babbacombe" Lee, a Victorian-era condemned murderer. Lee's story, from his boyhood poverty to his time in the Royal Navy, his being invalided out and forced to work in the service of Miss Keyes, to her murder and his sentence of death, and the failure of the gallows three times, is told in song, and all but one of those songs are originals. The all-male Fairport seldom sang better, nor did the post-Thompson band ever play with more panache, and some of the songs are beautiful -- but a few are lugubrious, and as with most other concept albums, the fit between the songs and the larger subject ultimately isn't entirely comfortable for the listener. All of the material was confusing because the group, for some reason, never put titles on the individual songs, instead stringing them together in longer sections. The critics loved it, but the listeners stayed away in droves for the first time since the band's debut album. AMG.

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Marvin Gaye - How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) 1965

One of the most gifted, visionary, and enduring talents ever launched into orbit by the Motown hit machine, Marvin Gaye blazed the trail for the continued evolution of popular black music. Moving from lean, powerful R&B to stylish, sophisticated soul to finally arrive at an intensely political and personal form of artistic self-expression, his work not only redefined soul music as a creative force but also expanded its impact as an agent for social change.

Marvin Pentz Gay, Jr. (in the style of his hero Sam Cooke, he added the "e" to his surname as an adult) was born April 2, 1939, in Washington, D.C. The second of three children born to the Reverend Marvin Gay, Sr., an ordained minister in the House of God -- a conservative Christian sect that fuses elements of orthodox Judaism and Pentecostalism, imposes strict codes of conduct, and observes no holidays -- he began singing in church at the age of three, quickly becoming a soloist in the choir. Gaye later took up piano and drums, and music became his escape from the nightmarish realities of his home life -- throughout his childhood, his father beat him on an almost daily basis.

After graduating from high school, Gaye enlisted in the U.S. Air Force; upon his discharge, he returned to Washington and began singing in a number of street-corner doo wop groups, eventually joining the Rainbows, a top local attraction. With the help of mentor Bo Diddley, the Rainbows cut "Wyatt Earp," a single for the OKeh label that brought them to the attention of singer Harvey Fuqua, who in 1958 recruited the group to become the latest edition of his backing ensemble, the Moonglows. After relocating to Chicago, the Moonglows recorded a series of singles for Chess, including 1959's "Mama Loocie." While touring the Midwest, the group performed in Detroit, where Gaye's graceful tenor and three-octave vocal range won the interest of fledgling impresario Berry Gordy, Jr., who signed him to the Motown label in 1961.

While first working at Motown as a session drummer and playing on early hits by Smokey Robinson & the Miracles, he met Gordy's sister Anna, and married her in late 1961. Upon mounting a solo career, Gaye struggled to find his voice, and early singles failed. Finally, his fourth effort, "Stubborn Kind of Fellow," became a minor hit in 1962, and his next two singles -- the 1963 dance efforts "Hitch Hike" and "Can I Get a Witness" -- both reached the Top 30. With 1963's "Pride and Joy," Gaye scored his first Top Ten smash, but often found his role as a hitmaker stifling -- his desire to become a crooner of lush romantic ballads ran in direct opposition to Motown's all-important emphasis on chart success, and the ongoing battle between his artistic ambitions and the label's demands for commercial product continued throughout Gaye's long tenure with the company.

With 1964's Together, a collection of duets with Mary Wells, Gaye scored his first charting album; the duo also notched a number of hit singles together, including "Once Upon a Time" and "What's the Matter With You, Baby?" As a solo performer, Gaye continued to enjoy great success, scoring three superb Top Ten hits -- "Ain't That Peculiar," "I'll Be Doggone," and "How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You)" -- in 1965. In total, he scored some 39 Top 40 singles for Motown, many of which he also wrote and arranged. With Kim Weston, the second of his crucial vocal partners, he also established himself as one of the era's dominant duet singers with the stunning "It Takes Two."

However, Gaye's greatest duets were with Tammi Terrell, with whom he scored a series of massive hits penned by the team of Nickolas Ashford and Valerie Simpson, including 1967's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" and "Your Precious Love," followed by 1968's "Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing" and "You're All I Need to Get By." The team's success was tragically cut short in 1967 when, during a concert appearance in Virginia, Terrell collapsed into Gaye's arms on-stage, the first evidence of a brain tumor that abruptly ended her performing career and finally killed her on March 16, 1970. Her illness and eventual loss left Gaye deeply shaken, marring the chart-topping 1968 success of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine," his biggest hit and arguably the pinnacle of the Motown sound.

At the same time, Gaye was forced to cope with a number of other personal problems, not the least of which was his crumbling marriage. He also found the material he recorded for Motown to be increasingly irrelevant in the face of the tremendous social changes sweeping the nation, and after scoring a pair of 1969 Top Ten hits with "Too Busy Thinking About My Baby" and "That's the Way Love Is," he spent the majority of 1970 in seclusion, resurfacing early the next year with the self-produced What's Going On, a landmark effort heralding a dramatic shift in both content and style that forever altered the face of black music. A highly percussive album that incorporated jazz and classical elements to forge a remarkably sophisticated and fluid soul sound, What's Going On was a conceptual masterpiece that brought Gaye's deeply held spiritual beliefs to the fore to explore issues ranging from poverty and discrimination to the environment, drug abuse, and political corruption; chief among the record's concerns was the conflict in Vietnam, as Gaye structured the songs around the point of view of his brother Frankie, himself a soldier recently returned from combat.

The ambitions and complexity of What's Going On baffled Berry Gordy, who initially refused to release the LP; he finally relented, although he maintained that he never understood the record's full scope. Gaye was vindicated when the majestic title track reached the number two spot in 1971, and both of the follow-ups, "Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)" and "Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)," also reached the Top Ten. The album's success guaranteed Gaye continued artistic control over his work and helped loosen the reins for other Motown artists, most notably Stevie Wonder, to also take command of their own destinies. Consequently, in 1972, Gaye changed directions again, agreeing to score the blaxploitation thriller Trouble Man; the resulting soundtrack was a primarily instrumental effort showcasing his increasing interest in jazz, although a vocal turn on the moody, minimalist title track scored another Top Ten smash.

The long-simmering eroticism implicit in much of Gaye's work reached its boiling point with 1973's Let's Get It On, one of the most sexually charged albums ever recorded; a work of intense lust and longing, it became the most commercially successful effort of his career, and the title cut became his second number one hit. Let's Get It On also marked another significant shift in Gaye's lyrical outlook, moving him from the political arena to a deeply personal, even insular stance that continued to define his subsequent work. After teaming with Diana Ross for the 1973 duet collection Marvin and Diana, he returned to work on his next solo effort, I Want You; however, the record's completion was delayed by his 1975 divorce from Anna Gordy. The dissolution of his marriage threw Gaye into a tailspin, and he spent much of the mid-'70s in divorce court. To combat Gaye's absence from the studio, Motown released the 1977 stopgap Live at the London Palladium, which spawned the single "Got to Give It Up, Pt. 1," his final number one hit.

As a result of a 1976 court settlement, Gaye was ordered to make good on missed alimony payments by recording a new album, with the intention that all royalties earned from its sales would then be awarded to his ex-wife. The 1978 record, a two-LP set sardonically titled Here, My Dear, bitterly explored the couple's relationship in such intimate detail that Anna Gordy briefly considered suing Gaye for invasion of privacy. In the interim, he had remarried and begun work on another album, Lover Man, but scrapped the project when the "Ego Tripping Out" lead single -- a telling personal commentary presented as a duet between the spiritual and sexual halves of his identity, which biographer David Ritz later dubbed the singer's "divided soul" -- failed to chart. As his drug problems increased and his marriage to new wife Janis also began to fail, he relocated to Hawaii in an attempt to sort out his personal affairs.

In 1981, longstanding tax difficulties and renewed pressures from the IRS forced Gaye to flee to Europe, where he began work on the ambitious In Our Lifetime, a deeply philosophical record that ultimately severed his longstanding relationship with Motown after he claimed the label had remixed and edited the album without his consent. Additionally, Gaye stated that the finished artwork parodied his original intent, and that even the title had been changed to drop an all-important question mark. Upon signing with Columbia in 1982, he battled stories of erratic behavior and a consuming addiction to cocaine to emerge triumphant with Midnight Love, an assured comeback highlighted by the luminous Top Three hit "Sexual Healing." The record made Gaye a star yet again, and in 1983 he made peace with Berry Gordy by appearing on a television special celebrating Motown's silver anniversary. That same year, he also sang a soulful and idiosyncratic rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" at the NBA All-Star Game; it instantly became one of the most controversial and legendary interpretations of the anthem ever performed. And it was to be his final public appearance.

Gaye's career resurgence brought with it an increased reliance on cocaine; finally, his personal demons forced him back to the U.S., where he moved in with his parents in an attempt to regain control of his life. Tragically, the return home only exacerbated his spiral into depression; he and his father quarrelled bitterly, and Gaye threatened suicide on a number of occasions. Finally, on the afternoon of April 1, 1984 -- one day before his 45th birthday -- Gaye was shot and killed by Marvin Sr. in the aftermath of a heated argument. In the wake of his death, Motown and Columbia teamed up to issue two 1985 collections of outtakes, Dream of a Lifetime -- a compilation of erotic funk workouts teamed with spiritual ballads -- and the big band-inspired Romantically Yours. (Vulnerable, a collection of ballads that took over 12 years to complete, finally saw release in 1996.) With Gaye's death also came a critical re-evaluation of his work, which deemed What's Going On to be one of the landmark albums in pop history, and his 1987 induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame permanently enshrined him among the pantheon of musical greats. AMG.

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Elvin Jones - Time Capsule 1977

Drummer Elvin Jones' Vanguard recordings of 1975-77, of which this was the final one, generally found him playing with all-stars or augmenting his band with guests. The five obscurities on this LP (three by altoist Bunky Green, who emerges as the date's top soloist) matches Jones with Green, tenor saxophonist George Coleman, the electric piano of Kenny Barron, bassist Junie Booth, guitarist Ryo Kawasaki, and percussionist Angel Allende. Two of the songs ("Frost Bite" and "Digital Display") have bassist Milt Hinton and flutist Frank Wess; the latter piece also adds the soprano of Frank Foster. Overall, the music is worthwhile, although not quite adding up to the sum of its many parts; the set has very little unity despite some individual fireworks. AMG.

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Isao Suzuki - Touch 1975

Isao Suzuki is the grand master of jazz in Japan. He is a bassist, multi instrumentalist, composer, arranger, producer, and bandleader. He was born on January 3, 1933 in Tokyo. Thanks Bertrand for introducing me to this excellent musician.

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Pantha - Doway Do, Doway Do 1975

Along with Pirana (another Sydney band in the early 1970's), Pantha were influenced by the Santana hall mark of using rock over a Latin beat. Their music was an unusual hydrid of rock, jazz, Latin American, West Indian and even occasional Zappa-like tracks.
Even though these guys were obviously channelling the Osibisa/Santana thing, they were doing it with immense fun. Exuberant frontman Paul Curtis was a good vocalist and flamboyant percussionist and other members, apart from Jack Wilson on bass, included sensational guitarist Roger Pell (ex-Kush), fluid keyboard player Danny Bourne (who later joined Mick Fettes, ex-Madder Lake, and Thank God You're Here's Shane Bourne [brother?] in Bandicoot), and, later, drummer Barry Cram (who went on to play with hard rock bands Avalanche and Contraband). Conga player Peter Lee who later switched to drums was not the same Peter Lee who was drummer with similarly funky band Stylus.
The band had one line-up change in their time together, with Barry Cram replacing Adriane Paine on drums and Jose McLaughlin replacing Dannie Bourne on keyboards.
Pantha supported the Doobie Brothers on their "Stampede Across Australia" Tour at Festival Hall, Melbourne in 1976.
Pantha only released three singles and one album (on the Wizzard label) during their short lifespan and were recorded live at the DoubleJay studio concert on April 12th, 1977, with a track entitled 'Rushcutter Bay Heartbeat Reggae'
Their album was recorded at Trafalgar Studios, Sydney and was produced by Roger Pell and John Sayers. (thanks to Midoztouch)

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Lindisfarne - Happy Daze 1974

Lindisfarne barely command more than a footnote in most rock reference books. During the early '70s, however, Lindisfarne were one of the hottest folk-based rock bands in England, with chart placements on two of their albums that rivaled Jethro Tull, and had them proclaimed one of the most important groups of the decade. With a sound that mixed plaintive folk-like melodies, earthy but well-sung harmonies, and acoustic and electric textures, the group seemed poised for international success, when a series of unfortunate artistic decisions, followed by a split in their lineup, left them bereft of audience and success.

Singer/guitarist Alan Hull (b. Feb. 20, 1945), guitarist Simon Cowe (b. Apr. 1, 1948), mandolin player Ray Jackson (b. Dec. 12, 1948), bassist/violinist Rod Clements (b. Nov. 17, 1947), and drummer Ray Laidlaw (b. May 28, 1948) all hailed from Newcastle-on-Tyne, England, and the surrounding area. At some point, they were known as Downtown Faction, but they took their familiar musical form under the name Brethren. The band became a very popular act on the college circuit, playing what was known as "good-time" music, singalong numbers resembling (or directly derived from) pub songs in which audiences could luxuriate, usually with Jackson's harmonica honking along. Alan Hull had a background in folk music that enabled him to freely incorporate that influence, and he was the major songwriter and singer in the band.

In 1968, they discovered that an American group was already using the name Brethren, and the Newcastle group rechristened itself Lindisfarne, taken from the name of an island off the coast of Northumberland in Northern England -- the island Lindisfarne (also known as Holy Island) is most famous for its early medieval monastery and castle and the ancient "Lindisfarne Gospels" medieval manuscript. The new name fit the times and the group's sound, which was evolving in the direction of folk-style music. The group was signed to Tony Stratton-Smith's Charisma Records, England's premiere progressive rock label, in 1970.

They released their first (and best) album, Nicely Out of Tune, that same year. Their debut album captured the group's best attributes, a rollicking, upbeat, optimistic collection of hippie/folk music, somewhere midway between Fairport Convention and the early Grateful Dead, with a peculiarly urban, English working-class ambience. Their "Englishness," coupled with the occasionally uneven quality of their songwriting, may explain one major reason why Lindisfarne never achieved more than a tiny cult following in the United States. Nicely Out of Tune contained one wistfully romantic number, "Lady Eleanor," which became a favorite number in the band's concert repertoire, and seemed destined to find an audience. The album and the "Lady Eleanor" single failed to chart, but Lindisfarne's live shows only grew in popularity -- by the end of 1970, they were able to ask for £1500 a night from promoters, a far cry from the £300 they had been getting on the college circuit.

Their second album, Fog on the Tyne, released in 1971, marked their commercial breakthrough -- a collection of earthy, folk-type pub songs, Fog on the Tyne entered the British charts in October of that year and began a slow climb into the middle reaches. In February of 1972, however, the group's label belated issued a single from the album, "Meet Me on the Corner." That record was number five on the charts the following month, while Fog on the Tyne suddenly rose to the number one spot. Within a matter of weeks, Nicely Out of Tune entered the charts for the first time and eventually hit number eight; "Lady Eleanor," reissued in June of 1972, made it to number three.

That was when the media hype kicked in, raising expectations and aspirations for a group that, until four months earlier, had been a pleasant folk-rock outfit with a solid cult following. Alan Hull was referred to in the press as the most important new songwriter since Bob Dylan, and Lindisfarne were saddled with the designation as "the 1970s Beatles." Up to this time, the group had played in England and Wales, but, apart from one show in Scotland and individual forays to Paris and Holland, its members hadn't even pondered the notion or implications of an international career. It all seemed too good to last, and it was.

Later in 1972, after a frantic period capitalizing on one massive success after another, the band released its third album, Dingly Dell. The album was troubled from the start. The record's producer was Bob Johnston, the American who had worked on Bob Dylan's John Wesley Harding, among many other records, and who had also produced Fog on the Tyne. The bandmembers had a falling out with Johnston over Dingly Dell, and remixed the album themselves immediately prior to release. The resulting record had a very crisp sound, very up-front, and more of a mainstream hard rock sound than their previous two long-players. Unfortunately, this was not the move that the critics had wanted or expected of the band -- they wanted a richer, more progressive folk-type sound, in some ways closer to Fairport Convention, not the harder, more basic sound that they found here. Additionally, the songwriting didn't match the prior two albums, and nobody was drawing comparisons between Alan Hull and Dylan over the songs on Dingly Dell.

Ironically, this album came out at just about the time Lindisfarne were in the process of gaining a small following in America, although they never really had much chance of succeeding. Their association with Charisma Records meant that they were afforded a listen by the American progressive rock audience, and to some limited extent their mixture of folk and rock was "progressive." In reality, Lindisfarne were closer in spirit and music to such hard-rocking bands as Brinsley Schwarz, Bees Make Honey, and Eggs Over Easy, utterly lacking the pretensions needed for a prog rock band.

Under other circumstances, the album would have been passed over by most critics as nothing more than a slightly disappointing lapse, but reviewers and journalists seemed bent on revenge for Lindisfarne's failure to rise to the praise and hype lavished on them over the previous year. The record and the group were universally savaged, although Dingly Dell still got to number five on the charts and yielded one modest hit, "All Fall Down." They toured America, but discovered that American listeners and critics found their sound too peculiarly English -- in the wrong ways -- to really accept Lindisfarne. The group was never remotely as popular as its Charisma labelmates Genesis, who were eagerly snapped up by Atlantic Records once their Charisma contract was up.

Cowe, Laidlaw, and Clements exited the band in early 1973 and formed a new group called Jack the Lad, which specialized in a harder, more basic pub rock sound, and went on to release three albums on Charisma. A live Lindisfarne album, featuring the original lineup and songs mostly from the first three albums, was issued by Charisma in 1973, but it was at best a holding action. Later that year, Alan Hull and Ray Jackson were back leading a new Lindisfarne lineup, featuring Ken Craddock on guitar, keyboards, and vocals; Charlie Harcourt on guitars; Tommy Duffy on bass and vocals; and Paul Nichols on drums. Their first album, Roll on Ruby, was a critical and commercial failure. Hull embarked on a solo recording career at around this same time, which seemed to draw away still more of the band's original audience. As the principal songwriter and voice of the group, and one of two original members, he held Lindisfarne's public better than the new Lindisfarne did.

The band switched to Warner Bros. for its next album, Happy Daze, which fared no better. By 1977, Jack the Lad had called it quits and Cowe, Clements, and Laidlaw were back with Lindisfarne. Hull also recorded with Laidlaw and Craddock under the group name Radiator on the Rocket label, releasing a single album, entitled Isn't It Strange. Lindisfarne switched labels again to Mercury and debuted with a double live album, Magic in the Air, with songs drawn from the group's first three albums. The band remained intact and on Mercury for two more long-players, released to little lasting commercial avail: Back and Fourth (1978), which yielded a pair of modest hits in Alan Hull's "Run for Home," a song that sounds more like Springsteen than Springsteen does, and "Warm Feeling"; and The News (1979). They remained a reasonably popular concert attraction -- especially in Newcastle and the surrounding area -- into the early '80s, and have continued to record and reunite for concerts periodically in the years since. During the early '80s, they organized Lindisfarne Musical Productions and began releasing their work on the LMP label, including a live album cut in 1983. Their live recordings, featuring new renditions of their classic early-'70s material, seem to draw the greatest enthusiasm. Hull also maintained a separate solo career until his 1995 passing. Fans of the group should definitely own his Back to Basics CD, featuring live acoustic versions of his best songs dating back to 1970. AMG.

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