Waves - Waves 1975

Waves was the debut album by New Zealand folk-rock band Waves. It was released in 1975 and reached No.7 on the New Zealand album charts. The album, which became a sought-after collector's item on vinyl, was re-released in 2013 on vinyl and CD with a bonus disc, Misfit, a previously unreleased album recorded by the band in 1976.
 

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Jeff Beck - Truth 1968

Despite being the premiere of heavy metal, Jeff Beck's Truth has never quite carried its reputation the way the early albums by Led Zeppelin did, or even Cream's two most popular LPs, mostly as a result of the erratic nature of the guitarist's subsequent work. Time has muted some of its daring, radical nature, elements of which were appropriated by practically every metal band (and most arena rock bands) that followed. Truth was almost as groundbreaking and influential a record as the first Beatles, Rolling Stones, or Who albums. Its attributes weren't all new -- Cream and Jimi Hendrix had been moving in similar directions -- but the combination was: the wailing, heart-stoppingly dramatic vocalizing by Rod Stewart, the thunderous rhythm section of Ron Wood's bass and Mickey Waller's drums, and Beck's blistering lead guitar, which sounds like his amp is turned up to 13 and ready to short out. Beck opens the proceedings in a strikingly bold manner, using his old Yardbirds hit "Shapes of Things" as a jumping-off point, deliberately rebuilding the song from the ground up so it sounds closer to Howlin' Wolf. There are lots of unexpected moments on this record: a bone-pounding version of Willie Dixon's "You Shook Me"; a version of Jerome Kern's "Ol' Man River" done as a slow electric blues; a brief plunge into folk territory with a solo acoustic guitar version of "Greensleeves" (which was intended as filler but audiences loved); the progressive blues of "Beck's Bolero"; the extended live "Blues Deluxe"; and "I Ain't Superstitious," a blazing reworking of another Willie Dixon song. It was a triumph -- a number 15 album in America, astoundingly good for a band that had been utterly unknown in the U.S. just six months earlier -- and a very improbable success. AMG.

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Astor Piazzolla and Gerry Mulligan - Summit - Reunión cumbre 1974

Astor Piazzolla, the Argentinean master of the bandoneon (an instrument very similar to the accordion) and a revolutionary who recast the tango into something very new, invited the baritone sax legend Gerry Mulligan to record with his group in a Milan studio in 1974. Piazzolla's works have seemed to grow in stature since his sudden death following a stroke in 1992. While it's a shame that Mulligan never got an opportunity to record the leader's well-known ballad "Adios Nonino," there are many highlights, including the dramatic "Deus Xango," a wistful ballad "Close Your Eyes and Listen," and the reflective "20 Years After." Although he has few extended solos on this CD, Mulligan composed "Aire de Buenos Aires" (which frees up the group from Piazzolla's more tightly structured works), and he adds an important new voice to Piazzolla's music. The rather strangely muddied sound of this reissue makes the strings (violin, viola, and cello) often sound like a synthesizer, and the percussion is often a bit heavy-handed; perhaps this is why Piazzolla downsized later groups to omit drums. Fans of Piazzolla will want to pick up this once-again unavailable release, while it may be more of historical curiosity for most Mulligan collectors. AMG.

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Yellow Hand - Yellow Hand 1969

This album would be utterly insignificant if not for the presence of half a dozen songs by Stephen Stills and Neil Young, originally written and demoed during the Buffalo Springfield era, but never officially released by that band (except for "Down to the Wire," which surfaced on Young's Decade compilation). God knows how Yellow Hand got a hold of them, and they squeeze the life out of the fairly good folk-rock tunes with run-of-the-mill 1970 rock arrangements and vocals. The record's filled out by three unmemorable songs composed by lead singer Jerry Tawney. Most of the Buffalo Springfield-affiliated rarities (Stills' "Neighbor Don't You Worry," "We'll See," "Come On Lover" and Young's "Down to the Wire" and "Sell Out") have circulated on bootlegs, particularly Buffalo Springfield's Stampede, and at this point it's actually a lot easier to track those illicit (and much better) versions down than the officially released ones on the long out-of-print Yellow Hand LP. This seems to be the only place you can hear Stephen Stills' "Hello, I've Returned" in any form, however. AMG.

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Steely Dan - Can't Buy A Thrill 1972

Walter Becker and Donald Fagen were remarkable craftsmen from the start, as Steely Dan's debut, Can't Buy a Thrill, illustrates. Each song is tightly constructed, with interlocking chords and gracefully interwoven melodies, buoyed by clever, cryptic lyrics. All of these are hallmarks of Steely Dan's signature sound, but what is most remarkable about the record is the way it differs from their later albums. Of course, one of the most notable differences is the presence of vocalist David Palmer, a professional blue-eyed soul vocalist who oversings the handful of tracks where he takes the lead. Palmer's very presence signals the one major flaw with the album -- in an attempt to appeal to a wide audience, Becker and Fagen tempered their wildest impulses with mainstream pop techniques. Consequently, there are very few of the jazz flourishes that came to distinguish their albums -- the breakthrough single, "Do It Again," does work an impressively tight Latin jazz beat, and "Reelin' in the Years" has jazzy guitar solos and harmonies -- and the production is overly polished, conforming to all the conventions of early-'70s radio. Of course, that gives these decidedly twisted songs a subversive edge, but compositionally, these aren't as innovative as their later work. Even so, the best moments ("Dirty Work," "Kings," "Midnight Cruiser," "Turn That Heartbeat Over Again") are wonderful pop songs that subvert traditional conventions and more than foreshadow the paths Steely Dan would later take. AMG.

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The Beatles - Abbey Road 1969

Conventional wisdom holds that the Beatles intended Abbey Road as a grand farewell, a suspicion seemingly confirmed by the elegiac note Paul McCartney strikes at the conclusion of its closing suite. It's hard not to interpret "And in the end/the love you take/Is equal to the love you make" as a summation not only of Abbey Road but perhaps of the group's entire career, a lovely final sentiment. The truth is perhaps a bit messier than this. The Beatles had tentative plans to move forward after the September 1969 release of Abbey Road, plans that quickly fell apart at the dawn of the new decade, and while the existence of that goal calls into question the intentionality of the album as a finale, it changes not a thing about what a remarkable goodbye the record is. In many ways, Abbey Road stands apart from the rest of the Beatles' catalog, an album that gains considerable strength from its lush, enveloping production -- a recording so luxuriant, it glosses over aesthetic differences between the group's main three songwriters and ties together a series of disconnected unfinished songs into a complete suite. Where Sgt. Pepper pioneered such mind-bending aural techniques, Abbey Road truly seized the possibilities of the studio and, in doing so, pointed the way forward to the album rock era of the 1970s. Many of the studio tricks arrive during that brilliant suite of songs, a sequence that lasts nearly a full side of an album. Here, McCartney's playful eccentricity juts against John Lennon's curdled cynicism, while the band thrills in sudden changes of mood and plays plenty of guitar, culminating in McCartney, Lennon, and George Harrison trading solos on "The End." The depth of sonic detail within "You Never Give Me Your Money" and "She Came in Through the Window" provided ideas for entire subgenres of pop in the '70s, but Abbey Road also contains a handful of the most enduring Beatles songs, each adding a new emotional maturity to their catalog. The subdued boogie of Lennon's "Come Together" contains a sensuality previously unheard in the Beatles -- it's matched by "Because," which may be the best showcase for the group's harmonies -- Harrison's "Something" is a love ballad of unusual sensitivity, and his "Here Comes the Sun" is incandescent, perhaps his purest expression of joy. As good as these individual moments are, what makes Abbey Road transcendent is how the album is so much greater than the sum of its parts. While a single song or segment can be dazzling, having a succession of marvelous, occasionally intertwined moments is not only a marvel but indeed a summation of everything that made the Beatles great. AMG.

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Stevie Wonder - Innervisions 1973

When Stevie Wonder applied his tremendous songwriting talents to the unsettled social morass that was the early '70s, he produced one of his greatest, most important works, a rich panoply of songs addressing drugs, spirituality, political ethics, the unnecessary perils of urban life, and what looked to be the failure of the '60s dream -- all set within a collection of charts as funky and catchy as any he'd written before. Two of the highlights, "Living for the City" and "Too High," make an especially deep impression thanks to Stevie's narrative talents; on the first, an eight-minute mini-epic, he brings a hard-scrabble Mississippi black youth to the city and illustrates, via a brilliant dramatic interlude, what lies in wait for innocents. (He also uses his variety of voice impersonations to stunning effect.) "Too High" is just as stunning, a cautionary tale about drugs driven by a dizzying chorus of scat vocals and a springing bassline. "Higher Ground," a funky follow-up to the previous album's big hit ("Superstition"), and "Jesus Children of America" both introduced Wonder's interest in Eastern religion. It's a tribute to his genius that he could broach topics like reincarnation and transcendental meditation in a pop context with minimal interference to the rest of the album. Wonder also made no secret of the fact that "He's Misstra Know-It-All" was directed at Tricky Dick, aka Richard Milhouse Nixon, then making headlines (and destroying America's faith in the highest office) with the biggest political scandal of the century. Putting all these differing themes and topics into perspective was the front cover, a striking piece by Efram Wolff portraying Stevie Wonder as the blind visionary, an artist seeing far better than those around him what was going on in the early '70s, and using his astonishing musical gifts to make this commentary one of the most effective and entertaining ever heard. AMG.

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Juicy Groove - First Taste 1978

A short-lived late-'70's band called Juicy Groove, which featured former members of Steppenwolf, Captain Beefheart's Magic Band, and Spirit. Their leader was a character named Michael "Rainbow" Neal, who was involved with many of Sky Saxon's post-Seeds activities. Their 1978 album First Taste is a fun piece of garage psychedelic that sounds like it was recorded a decade earlier.

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Quicksilver Messenger Service - Happy Trails 1969

Without question, this follow-up to Quicksilver Messenger Service's self-titled debut release is the most accurate in portraying the band on vinyl in the same light as the group's critically and enthusiastically acclaimed live performances. The album is essentially centered around the extended reworkings of Bo Diddley's "Who Do You Love?" and "Mona," as well as the lesser lauded -- yet no less intense -- the contribution of Gary Duncan's (guitar/vocals) "Calvary." This album is the last to feature the original quartet incarnation of QMS. The collective efforts of John Cipollina (guitar/vocals), Greg Elmore (percussion), David Freiberg (bass/vocals), and the aforementioned Duncan retain the uncanny ability to perform with a psychedelic looseness of spirit, without becoming boring or in the least bit pretentious. The side-long epic "Who Do You Love?" suite is split into an ensemble introduction and coda as well as four distinct sections for the respective band members. The perpetually inventive chops of QMS are what is truly on display here. The musicians' unmitigated instrumental prowess and practically psychic interaction allow them to seamlessly weave into and back out of the main theme. Yet all the while, each player takes center stage for uncompromising solos. "Mona" and its companion, "Calvary," continue in much the same fashion. Here the members of QMS play off each other to form a cohesive unit. This track also contains some of Cipollina's finest and most memorable fretwork. He is able to summon sonic spirits from his guitar in a way that is unlike any of his Bay Area contemporaries. A prime example of his individuality is the frenetic "Maiden of the Cancer Moon" -- ascending from the remnants of "Mona." The angst and energy in Cipollina's guitar work and line upon line of technical phrasing could easily be considered the equal of a Frank Zappa guitar solo. The brief title track, a cover of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans' "Happy Trails," seems almost insignificant in the wake of such virtuoso playing. It clears the sonic palette and also bids adieu to this particular fab foursome of psychedelia. AMG.

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The Plastic People of the Universe - Egon Bondy's Happy Hearts Club Banned 1974

Sounding like a meeting between Zappa, Henry Cow, and Allen Ginsberg, this is a wild, politically-charged chunk of avant-garde agitprop. Egon Bondy's poetry may not be the most lyrical you've ever heard, but his imagery is striking in its desperation and anger. Lots of honking saxes courtesy of Vratislav Brabenec, who is a big-time blower in the style of German free jazz player Peter Brotzmann. For those whose love for the late-'60s/early-'70s progressive rock is boundless, this is absolutely essential. But, even if you're squeamish about anything labeled art-rock, don't pass this by; the raw emotions and intense idealism in the face of oppression, despite their being sung in a language you don't speak (there are English lyrics on the LP jacket), are very moving. AMG
 

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Hoi' Polloi - Hoi' Polloi 1972

Hoi’ Polloi’s only self-titled private press LP is a true lost gem.  Record Collector Magazine referred to this album as “a buried treasure” while Acid Archives writer Aaron Milenski said of the album, “Here’s proof that great finds are still out there awaiting us.”  Family Vineyard reissued this strange but engaging album on vinyl and digital download. The group, which hailed from Richmond, Indiana, mixes various early 70s pop/rock styles (CSN&Y styled singer-songwriter pop, country rock, power pop, folk-rock, progressive rock, lite psychedelia) into an appealing whole.  Hoi’ Polloi was recorded at Earlham College during spring break using two stereo deck tapes.  Album opener “Who’s Gonna Help Me” sounds like a lost Emitt Rhodes track – this is radio-friendly and highly accomplished pop for a self-released disc.  The folk-rock tracks such as “Stories,” “Devil Song,” and “Old Bootstrap” are the group’s greatest strength as they are tuneful and finely crafted pieces of music – how was this excellent band overlooked? Other winners are the acid-soaked but brief “Last Laugh,” the progressive harpsichord instrumental “Sid Stoneman Gets Scaled,” and the catchy singer-songwriter styled “15 Miles To Mexico.”

While influences are easy to spot, Hoi’ Polloi had a unique quirkiness and strong sense of musicianship that keeps this music original and fresh.   They were a group that could sing, write, and plays better than most major label acts of their time.  There are no rough spots or dull moments to be found on this very entertaining set, which is highly recommended to fans of early 70’s pop-rock.

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Byard Lancaster - Funny Funky Rib Crib 1974

A lesser-known avant-gardist who based much of his career in Philadelphia, Byard Lancaster was an advanced improviser who was not shy to show the influence of blues and soul in his solos. He played with Sunny Murray starting in 1965 and worked with Bill Dixon (1966-1967), Sun Ra (off and on between 1968-1971), and McCoy Tyner (1971-1977). Lancaster played for a bit with Memphis Slim in Paris, but mostly performed jazz locally. All of his own recordings were for obscure labels (including Vortex, Dogtown, Palm, Philly Jazz, and Bellows), but his 1966 ESP date with Sunny Murray was reissued digitally. Byard Lancaster died of cancer in August 2012 at the age of 70. AMG.

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Moonquake - Moonquake 1972

Rock trio from Montreal, Canada. Very interesting album, worth listening to. Don't miss it.

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Rosebud - Rosebud (Judy Henske & Jerry Yester) 1971

Rosebud's sole album was an eclectic but erratic venture. It veered between psychedelic-tinged, poetic tracks reminiscent of Henske-Yester's Farewell Aldebaran ("Le Soleil," "Lullabye II (Summer Carol)," "Lorelei"), ornately orchestrated, tuneful art-pop ("Flying to Morning"), pedestrian-period L.A. singer-songwriter music, and country-rock. It seems no coincidence that the four tracks praised in the previous sentence were penned by Henske and Yester, while most of the remaining ones on the LP were not. The record was at its best when it attained that oddball mystical, ethereal air characteristic of Henske-Yester's best collaborations, retaining accessibility via their almost pseudo-classical melodies. When they weren't aspiring to this level, Rosebud was just an ordinary, laid-back, early-1970s, California rock band. It might be misguided to criticize the record for what it wasn't, and for not featuring Henske more as the lead vocalist, since the other singers in the band couldn't match her at all. Rosebud was a group project, not a duo one like Henske-Yester, which might be why she and he are more subdued on this effort. Still, it seems like there's half of a good album struggling to become a whole one. AMG.

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Soft Machine - Softs 1976

At this point in the band's history, Soft Machine's lineup might raise the question of Theseus' paradox: if all the pieces of something are replaced, bit by bit over time, does the identity of the original something still remain? On Softs, Mike Ratledge, the only original bandmember present on Bundles, the group's preceding Harvest LP, was relegated to guest status, contributing synthesizer to only two tracks, "Song of Aeolus" and "Ban-Ban Caliban." Otherwise, keyboard duties fell completely to Karl Jenkins, who joined the group prior to the recording of Six and had gradually taken over the conceptual reins as the Softs finished their tenure with Columbia and moved over to Harvest. On Softs more than ever before, Soft Machine was Jenkins' band; he composed fully seven of the LP's 11 tracks, making the album a vehicle for his own artistic conception. And yet, as Soft Machine albums go, this one is just fine, thank you. Jenkins had always put his own personal stamp on the material he wrote for the band, but he also retained elements of a Soft Machine style that emerged around the time Ratledge began penning LP side-long opuses on Third: a marriage of modalism and minimalism with memorable themes in layered counterpoint and an occasional backdrop of rippling, echoey overdubbed electric keyboards, giving the music a trippy, trance-inducing quality. Nimble keyboard and reed solos were also an important element of the Soft Machine sound, although, as the group entered its Harvest fusion period, they tended to take a back seat to the work of fleet-fingered electric guitarists, first Allan Holdsworth on Bundles and then John Etheridge here. With Etheridge proving that Holdsworth wasn't England's only blindingly fast fusion guitar riff-meister, and with new saxophonist Alan Wakeman being a somewhat heftier reedman than Jenkins, the Softs lineup was plenty strong enough in the soloing department, so Jenkins could concentrate on overdubbing an arsenal of keyboards to give the music its overall structure and mood. Meanwhile, the Roy Babbington (bass) and John Marshall (drums) rhythm-section team, intact since Seven, was as fine as ever, kicking the band into overdrive at the drop of a hi-hat. While Softs has plenty to satisfy the Canterbury and jazz-rock fusion fan, another stylistic element -- new age -- can be heard blowing in with the synthesized wind and strings of the slow and lovely "Song of Aeolus." A precarious balance is usually maintained and the music keeps its footing in jazz-rock, although Softs certainly has more polish than grit. Moments of subtlety and understatement, like the pastoral soprano saxophone and acoustic guitar duet of the opening "Aubade" and Etheridge's folk-jazz duet with himself on the album-closing "Etka," are balanced by passages of high drama: the multitudinous layers of guitars and keyboards piled onto the closing of "The Tale of Taliesin" might suggest the Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" coda through a widescreen '70s fusion lense. Elsewhere, the careful buildup and breakdown of lovely themes on "Out of Season" and the insistent groove of "Ban-Ban Caliban" are notable highlights. Softs is adventurous listening, yet accessible and engaging enough to have broad appeal, and its stylistic links to the past maintain Soft Machine's distinctive identity -- even if this particular machine is constructed of replacement parts. [Some good selections from Softs can also be heard on Tales of Taliesin: The EMI Years Anthology 1975-1981,  AMG

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