The Herd - "Lookin Thru You" Vinyl, Album, U.S., 1968 (Fontana)

The Herd is a very typical band of their era, as well as unusual.   The truth is, the 1960s were an extraordinary decade when it came to a lot of things, but for me, the music defined its eccentricity, and there is nothing ordinary about The Herd, in that sense.   Peter Frampton, a pin-up rock god of the 1970s, was also the pin-up teen pop star of the late 1960s.  Still, I was surprised to hear The Herd, and hearing not only Frampton's voice, but also The Walker Brothers, a touch of Procol Harum, very early David Bowie, and a pinch of ska, with respect to its rhythms.  Baroque in style, but the closest thing I can also think of is Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich in its ridiculous manner of over-the-top pop.   They also share the songwriting talents of Alan Blaikley and Ken Howard, better to known to us record label readers as "Howard Blaikley."  I first discovered the duo through Joe Meeks' 1964 band The Honeycombs, who had the enormous hit "Have I The Right."

I know very little about the history of The Herd, except that all of them were teenagers when they were in the band.   They had three hit songs in England and Europe, and they made one album in the U.K. and this album, "Lookin' Thru You" is their only American release.  Basically a bastard version of their British album "Paradise Lost" and a load of other singles.   When I was a young boy in the 1960s, I remember having a mass paperback of the upcoming bands from the UK, and among many, The Herd was in that pile.   They stood out because of their photo.  Their perfect haircuts seduced me. It took almost 50 years until I purchase their album.  Time waits for no one.  Except hearing The Herd.  It doesn't take me back to my youth, or the love of their haircuts, but the fact that they made pop music that is insane and beautifully accurate for their time. Listening to it in 2018 I'm struck by the imaginative use of orchestration and horns.  And the voices are entirely from the Scott Walker method of attacking and embracing a melody.  

Without a doubt their masterpiece is "From The Underworld" is mythical as well as a teenage pop narrative.  It's fascinating that pop songwriters like Blaikley and Howard can slip in something magnificent in the lyrics and sell it as teenage angst.  That's the brilliance of pop, in the hands of crafty and brilliant songwriters.   The other classic is "Paradise Lost" which starts off as a stripper's theme song, and then goes into this dark classical mode, which is similar to "From The Underworld." The transition from one place to another is breathtakingly beautiful.  

Besides the two veteran songwriters, Frampton and Andy Bown co-wrote a lot of songs as well, which sounds a lot like The Small Faces.  Which ironically (or not) enough, Frampton went off with Steve Marriott to form Humble Pie.  The secret weapon in The Herd is their bassist who can sing like Scott Walker.  Gary Taylor also writes for The Herd as well, and his voice is just magnificent.  The Herd has a lot of strength, and why they didn't make it in a huge way is a mystery to me.  Sometimes the cards are not in favor of its players, and The Herd left us some incredible music.  

Small Faces - "Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, Limited Edition, 1996/1968 (Castle Communications)

Small Faces may or may not be geniuses, but they strike me as moments of perfection.  To this day, I'm confused what makes a Small Faces album.  I think most of their records are a collection of 45 rpm singles and their b-sides.  Their aesthetic is the 45 single, and therefore most of their albums are greatest hits collections.  Yet, in 1968, after Sgt. Pepper (1967), and before "Tommy" (1969), The Small Faces made their conceptual or narrative album.   "Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake" is not only that but also a highly designed album package, that is tricky to fold up or put the disc away in its packaging.   I have to imagine it made a significant hit on the present and future graphic artists.  And in fashion, just as important as the music inside the designed package. 

Usually, when a recording artist decides to make a concept album, it has a huge theme of some sort.  Sgt. Pepper is a made-up group, and the album's theme follows that method of narration, and of course, "Tommy" is a major statement from Pete Townshend with respect to his spirituality and perhaps a severe sexual relationship/abuse.   On the other hand, Small Faces made a concept album about a fellow following or trying to locate a disappearing moon.   And this is only on side two with a narrative spoken by British comedian who invented his own humorous language, "Unwinese."  A language that has a few words in standard English, but the listener picks up or imagines that there is a consistency in what he's saying.  Totally eccentric, and that is also the appeal of the Small Faces.   A band that was driven by its love for Rhythm n' Blues, but on the other hand, they do have this secure connection to British music halls and the Cockney culture.  It is this relationship between the two worlds that makes the Small Faces a great band.  

"Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake" is not really a masterpiece, but it's an enjoyable and unique album from 1968.  I don't think the album could have been made outside of that era or year.   It captures a certain innocence as well as the enjoyment of getting high and letting your mind wander into a recording studio.  It is also interesting to note that this album was the work from the Small Faces.  Steve Marriott left the band to form Humble Pie, with fellow pop star Peter Frampton of The Herd, who both wanted to investigate a heavier sound in their music and approach to that aesthetic.  Still, "Ogden's" is an incredible combination of charm and classic Small Faces pop.  "Afterglow," "Song of a Baker," "Lazy Sunday," (a song that Small Faces had mixed feelings about when it was released as a single by Immediate Records, but to me a classic work), and the more obscure "Happy Days Toy Town."  One often thinks of the Small Faces being the flip of the coin with The Who on the other side.  On some days, I think the Small Faces were a better band, but the truth is, both on a very street, but smart level, took their music to another platform or level.   I only know a few people who "like" the Small Faces, but I know a lot more who "love" the Small Faces.  It's a love that is richly accepted.

Pink Floyd - "Masters of Rock" Vinyl, LP, Compilation, Netherlands, 1974 (Columbia)

Finding the songs that are not on, or never appeared on a regular Pink Floyd album is a consumer's game in trying to find the right record or fit for the listener.  For my taste, I love Pink Floyd's compilation "Masters of Rock," which is a series of compilations put out by Columbia Records in the 1970s.  For the Syd Barrett fanatic (which I border on in that category) there is "Apples and Oranges" and "Candy and A Current Bun."  "Apples" I believe was only officially released as a single, and I think "Candy, and A Current Bun" was a b-side to another Pink Floyd single.   That's the reason why I bought this album.  Also, it was nice to have both "See Emily Play" and "Arnold Layne" on one disc.  The rest of the Syd songs all come from the first Pink Floyd album, which of course is a masterpiece. 

The big surprise for me, and I have to let readers know that I pretty much don't know anything about post-Syd Floyd, are the songs "It Would Be So Nice" and "Paint Box," both by the keyboard player and sung by Richard Wright.  Incredibly solid and even if I may add fantastic pop songs.   Why wasn't "It Would Be So Nice" a huge hit at the time?  As I write, the chorus sticks to my brain like oatmeal to the guts.  The ultimate psych-pop tune that is authentically psychedelic.  "Paint Box" another fantastic tune, that is a song diary.  Wright, I think, at least at this period, is underrated as a songwriter. How did he lose his position in Pink Floyd to Roger Waters?  Who by the way also has a fantastic song "Julia Dream."  But still, I was shocked at how strong the songs are by Wright.  My question out there, are there other fantastic songs by Wright on later Pink Floyd albums?  Is his solo album any good?

The beauty of a compilation is not only getting the hits, but the undiscovered b-side or the 45 rpm single that didn't become a hit, yet, still, a fantastic record.    "Masters of Rock" is a mind-opener for me.   

Paul & Linda McCartney - "Ram" Vinyl, LP, Album, 1971 (Apple Records)

Some days I find Paul & Linda McCartney's "Ram" a masterpiece, and if my mood is a bit down a disappointment or the first signs of aesthetic weakness in the world of Paul.   I remember at the time that "Ram" was going to be the ultimate Paul album, after the low-key first solo album, which I think is still an incredible record.  The up aspect of this album is "Too Many People," some say it's about Lennon, which at this time was the height of their series of poison letters to each other in the press, and in their music.   Still, it's a beautiful production that is off-kilter and a great mixture of noise and pop.  I like the entire side one, but there is a danger sign of "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" that has elements of Paul's spiritual poison against himself.  The word 'cute' comes to mind, and cuteness is not flattery in the hands of this musical genius. 

"Smile Away" is an underrated Paul masterpiece, and I like the mixture of Linda's 'girl-group' back up vocals as well as it being a very driven 'rock' song.  Side two is the so-so side, with "Heart of the Country" being a serviceable throw-a-way song. But then comes the eccentric "Monkberry Moon Delight" and then, work that is almost there on a high level, such as the last song "Back Seat of My Car," but is just product at the end of the day.  

Paul wrote six of these songs by himself, and the others are co-credited with Linda.  I'm not sure what she contributed to the songwriting or the making of the album besides her backup vocals.   When Yoko Ono added material or vocals, you know it's 100% Ono, but Linda's contribution to the Paul McCartney post-Beatle years is a mystery to me.   Not saying that Linda is not essential to the songs or recordings, but I'm curious how the relationship works in the making of music.  

As a Beatle fan, I supported financially to the John and Paul solo years up to the mid-1970s, but then I woke up from my daze and realized that this is work that is not as good or interesting as their early solo work.  The early singles and The Plastic Ono Band are masterpieces, and I feel that Paul's first album and "Another Day/"Oh Woman" are masterpieces as well.  But when it came to "Imagine" and "Ram," it was a formula that dried up.  What stayed consistent with the duo is their craftsmanship in writing proper songs.  But the genius spark went missing.   Their voices (singing) was fantastic, and everything was top-notch in backup musicians, and once in awhile they had a tremendous single or a song on an album; but very uninspiring in its scope and focus. 

"Ram" is an album, on a good day, that I look back as a wonderful album. But once I dig into it, I find troubling aspects that became larger in his later work.  Ironically enough, I love Wings "Wild Life," the album after "Ram," and also another back-to-basics work by him, as his first solo album.  There is a conflict in McCartney's work that is between inspiration/experimentation and then pop poop.  The dangerous thing is that he's very talented in making listenable pop poop, but needs to be pushed to make brilliant sonic art.  Perhaps that's the beauty of The Beatles.  That combination was magical, and once you leave the family you make music with, you are trying to replace that magic with real family members or listening or respecting too much the craft of putting together a song or record.  Still, "Ram" has crucial moments of true greatness. 

Kraftwerk - "Trans-Europe Express" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 1980/1977 (Capital)

If someone approached me and said: "Kraftwerk is the most important band in the world," I would not dispute that.  In fact, I may agree with that mysterious someone.   I discovered Kraftwerk when "Autobahn" came out, but it was "Trans-Europe Express" that changed everything.   For one, they were the first band to me that didn't come from America or England.  They were hardcore German.  They looked German, sounded German, and the traces I picked up were European classical music, with a touch of Musique Concrete.  No blues, or Beach Boys which I think was an influence on their previous album.

I remember showing this album cover to my German (Hamburg born) grandmother, and she said: "ah, they look like young men from my youth."    "Trans-Europe Express" was my first gateway to a European aesthetic.  I admired European films, but this was (sort of) my contemporary entrance to the European aesthetic.  When I went to Europe for a huge traveling trip, it was Kraftwerk's music on this album that served as a soundtrack to my adventures in Italy, Germany, France and the UK.  At times when I was in Munich, I wasn't sure if what I was seeing was truly my experience, or I was re-living the imagery from "Trans-Europe Express."

There are many brilliant artists in the pop music world, but Kraftwerk seemed to me another or unique version of genius at play.   The icy perfection of their image/music (the same thing for me) as well as the beautiful melodies, made a huge dent in how I saw the world.   I love other Kraftwerk albums, especially "Radio-Activity," but "Trans-Europe Express" is my sonic version of someone else's "On The Road," or another romantic literary title.   Once bitten, you've changed.  Kraftwerk was the bite that keeps on giving.

The Byrds - "Fifth Dimension" Vinyl, LP, Album, Mono, 1966 (Columbia)

The Byrds are a classic band that had a busy and successful career.  From 1965 to 1967 at the very least the David Crosby, Chris Hillman, Jim (Roger) McGuinn and Gene Clark years were the prominent landscape of their classic sound, which in a nutshell would be their harmonies, Jim's 12-string electric guitar, and a relationship between folk and psychedelic music.  On paper, it sounds perfect to me, but in actuality, I have always had a problem with The Byrds. 

I liked them, but compared to my friends for the last few decades or so, who see them perhaps as the most important band, I, on the other hand, found them conventional.  As a young teenager, I bought their albums up to "Younger Than Yesterday," but when they turned to country on the next album, "Sweethearts of Rodeo," I couldn't deal with that identity nor sound.  But even before "Sweethearts" there is something about their overall sound that was pleasing, but not fitting in as a band, or a singular identity, and that I have always found troubling.  I recently purchased an original mono copy of "Fifth Dimension," which was my favorite Byrds album as a young tot, and I still remember playing this album over and over again in my bedroom on a very cheap and portable turntable.  The density of McGinn's great 12-string electric guitar freak-outs in the midst of Crosby and others perfect harmonies or folk-related ballads was an interesting relationship between noise/chaos and rigid pop/folk melodies.   I have thought that McGuinn was going one direction and the rest of the band to another part of the world.  Even though Crosby's songwriting had an Eastern drone, it was never as fascinating as The Beatles experimental approach to the drone, or of course, the music being made by John Cale, Tony Conrad in New York City around that time. 

Still, the one song that is a massive standout on "Fifth Dimension" is "Eight Miles High." A work of beautiful perfection that is either a fearful look at flying or a narcotic reaction - but for me, it works as a musical version of a phobia for being in a metal machine in the sky.  The opening cut on side one is "5D (Fith Dimension)" with Van Dyke Parks on organ, is a great swell of sounds, with a wonderful McGuinn vocal.  The rest is enjoyable filler.  Like a lot of bands during that period, they also do a version of "Hey Joe" which is lame compared to The Leaves, Love, and the brilliant Jimi Hendrix version that will come out later either that year 1966 or in 1967.  

I understand the importance and stance of The Byrds, and why they are so beloved by their fans, but for me, they never went far enough with their sound.  Los Angeles had a fantastic run of great music/bands at this time, and when you compare The Byrds to either Buffalo Springfield or the great Love, they come off as weak and an afterthought.  Still, I find some pleasure in their rubble. 

King Crimson - "Islands" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 2014/1971 (Discipline Global Mobile)

"Islands" I feel is the forgotten King Crimson album, perhaps due that its mood is very different from the first three Crimson albums.  Also, it's an album that strikes me as an arranger's album.  It's more somber except for the sexual pull of "Ladies of the Road" which is horny and suggests a slight funk edge, but still in the King Crimson format.  

Side two does it for me because there is a beautiful string orchestration piece "Prelude: Song of the Gulls" that's exquisite.   Not a classical prog piece, or classic rock work, but an actual string orchestration of beautiful music.  Four minutes of pure bliss. "Islands" reminds me of a cousin to perhaps Robert Wyatt's "Rock Bottom." It's not absurd as Wyatt, but there is a dreamy jazz feel that reminds me of that album as well as some of Miles Davis's orchestrated works with Gil Evans.  There are reflections of the previous King Crimson album "Lizard" but more sophisticated if that's the proper word.  One of my favorite Crimson albums, because it flows from cut-to-cut. 

The Move - "Something Else From The Move" Vinyl, LP, Compilation, France, 1979 (Cube Records)

Has there ever been a band such as The Move, who moved from psych-pop to heavy, and then at times, something operatic and more significant than big?   Never on my top ten list of loves, because I keep forgetting that they exist, and that is apparently a shortsighted position on my part.  Roy Wood is not only an incredible songwriter, but the eccentricity of his stance in the pop music world is one to admire. He's an artist who accepts the abscess of too much, and often I think how is this even possible?  

The Move has two lead singers Carl Wayne and Wood.  Wood writes the material, and Carl Wayne, in a Roger Daltrey manner, takes the material like a grand actor.  If one has to compare the band with another, I have to imagine it will be The Who.  Both groups are melodic as well as thrashing, and there is a sophistication in the mix that makes it a couple of notches better than the standard pop of its era.  It's not surprising that The Move influenced Sparks because they both share the density of the overall sound, as well as songs that are double-edged in imagery and presence. 

"Something Else From The Move" is a compilation album from France.  Side one is their early singles, but including "Brontosaurus" a song when The Move was a trio featuring Jeff Lynne.  Still, this collection is Roy Wood orientated, and side two is a live set from the Marquee Club in 1968.  The reason I purchased this album is that of the live side. One can find this material in various formats, including an EP, but it's pricey to locate.  Here The Move covers Eddie Cochran ("Something Else"), as well as Spooky Tooth, The Byrds, and surprisingly Love.  Besides Cochran, which is music from the past, the other artists they covered were contemporary and very much in force still in 1968. 

The secret of The Move is that they were very baroque orientated in their arrangements, but played the material in a heavy manner.  So there are layers of sound and textures within the three-minute pop single, but also they were able to stretch out in more extended material as well.  As a compilation, it didn't take that much imagination in putting this collection together; still, it is such an enjoyable listening experience. 

Johnny Thunders - "So Alone" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 1978/2014 (Drastic Plastic Records)

It's hard to separate the image of Johnny Thunders, the very model of him, and his music.  When I listen to a Thunders recording, whatever it's a Heartbreakers or New York Dolls, the image of the Junkie is very well defined in our world.  Which is a shame, because it hides the fact that Thunders is an outstanding songwriter.  One should never bury their vices, but when it becomes the only subject matter when it comes to Johnny Thunders, you're losing the full motion picture and sound.

"So Alone" is the first 'solo' album from Thunders, and he's backed from Steve Jones and Paul Cook from the Sex Pistols, and more interestingly Peter Perrett and Mike Kellie from the band The Only Ones.  Another semi-tragic songwriter of sorts, Perrett is a perfect mirror image of the Thunders angst and pleasure.  The root of Thunders is, of course, The New York Dolls, which is a band that is about the history of rock n' roll, Rhythm n' blues, and various girl groups from the 1960s.  And of course a touch of The Kinks circa 1964/1965.   Thunders don't move from this core on his solo recording, because this is the music that he breaths in and out throughout his life. "So Alone" is a fantastic album, because, at the time, it cuts all of his interest on one disc.  

The album is co-produced by Steve Lillywhite, who worked with a lot of great British artists in the post-rock years of the late 1970s such as Peter Gabriel, XTC, early Ultravox, Siouxsie & the Banshees, and of course U2.   Lillywhite captures the Thunders magic, by not doing anything slick or mechanical and frames the Johnny aesthetic as if it was a retrospective than just an album.  The music covers NY Dolls, Heartbreakers, and choice covers to give a portrait of Johnny, at his most muscular stance to honoring not only his songwriting but the aesthetic that goes with his territory.  The first two New York Dolls, and the early Heartbreakers, and then "So Alone" is an excellent package to get. A vital artist who stated not only the image of rock n' roll but also the poetic almost dandified stance that goes with that (Thunders') world. 

King Crimson - "Starless and Bible Black" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 2015/1974 (Discipline Global Mobile)

Listening to King Crimson in 2018 is connecting the dots between Roxy Music, King Crimson, and what-the-hell-is Prog Rock.  John Wetton played with Roxy Music as their (one of many) bassists and I also remember he toured with Bryan Ferry (In Your Mind) tour.  And of course, the Eno/Fripp matchup during the time of this album "Starless and Bible Black."  It's not that all the musicians are masters of their instruments (which they are, of course) but more of the fact that they are brilliant arrangements at work.  The textures between almost silence and thrash come in equal doses.  

"Fracture" at 11 minutes is a relationship that's taking place between percussion, violin, and Fripp's guitars.  At times it reminds me of a Looney Tunes soundtrack, or something off from the Beach Boys' "Smile," with respect to chimes looming in the front and back.  Wetton's bass is the foundation, and I want to add, like their next album, "Red," his playing is aggressive, but knows how to frame the song in such a manner as Thelonious Monk sketching out the melody.  At times, he sounds like a jet about to leave the airport.   As they are rocking, one of them yelps, which seems almost out of place in the sterile cold world of King Crimson.   

Just focusing on "Fracture" makes it sound that is it, but the whole album is remarkable.  The noise they make is big, grand, and at times, there are Chinese melodies that slips in the heaviness.  Michael Nyman Band also comes to mind as well, with the intensity of its speed, and again, at least in the early recordings by Nyman, a very aggressive electric bass, that sounds incredible with the strings/horns.    The four members of King Crimson, David Cross (violin), Bill Bruford (percussion), and of course Fripp and Wetton, I think were the best version of King Crimson.   Roughly this combo made three albums.   It's music that is grounded in 1974 because one senses that something else will come upon the world,  punk/No Wave.   And I think King Crimson was at the entrance waiting to open up to that world with welcoming arms.  Also one should note the beautiful cover by Tom Phillips, who has associations with the British experimental music world, as well as being a great artist. 

Heinz -"The Singles" Vinyl, LP, Compilation (Triumph)

No one sounds like Heinz, because Joe Meek produced Heinz.  And the closest record maker to Meek is maybe Brian Eno, during his early solo album/song career.  Meek started off as a recording engineer for EMI during the 1950s and eventually left the corporate music world to start his own label, Triumph Records, for the sole purpose of producing and even writing hits.  His one accepted masterpiece is "Telstar," which he wrote and produced for The Tornados.  In that instrumental band, the platinum blond bassist, Heinz, caught Meek's eye (and ears).  If Phil Spector had Ronnie, then Heinz was Meek's obsession.  

The 16 songs on this compilation album are recorded in what sounds like from another planet.  Each country has their own take on rock n' roll, and these recordings sound like they came from Mars.  To describe the music, it's basic rock or pop but filtered through Meek's aesthetic it becomes a weird hybrid of bedroom recordings (he worked mostly in his home studio in North London) and musique concrete practices.  It's pop music, but clearly has avant-garde leanings that I don't think Meek was aware of. In that sense, he's an outside artist who thought himself as a commercial hit-maker.  And he was, at certain moments in his brief and tragic life. 

For the last 25 years or so, I have been obsessed with Joe Meek.  I'm slowly collecting his works on CD and on vinyl, which at times can be difficult to obtain.  "The Singles" I found the other day at Rockaway Records in Silver Lake, and I believe that it was once owned by Ronald Kane, who had a record collection that was out-of-mind-out-of-body great.   Nevertheless, Heinz belongs in an eccentric world of sound and vision.   The compression of the sounds and the muted drums are surely the foundation for not only Eno's "Here Come the Warm Jets," but also the pop side (side 1) of Bowie's "Low."   Without a doubt, the strangest recordings to come out of 1960.   Therefore a work of genius.  

King Crimson - "In The Court of the Crimson King" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 1969/2010 (Discipline Global Mobile)

By its reputation, I should be naturally hating this album.  If not ground zero for prog-rock aesthetics, it's at the very least very close to that dangerous neighborhood.  As a 1960s popster with touches of French avant-garde Musique Concrete, and a feel for a great torch song here and there, logic would tell you that I should remain far away from "In The Court of the Crimson King." In fact, I never wanted to be in any court of any sort, especially one attached to King Crimson.  But alas, I'm a prejudiced soul!

I have been curious about this album for decades now.  As mentioned in another commentary on King Crimson, I admired Robert Fripp as a guitarist and his work with David Bowie, Eno, among others.   Still, is it possible for me to ever love or like a song called "I Talk to the Wind?"  Or worse yet, "Moonchild?"  The odds were even against this ever ending up in my home or on my turntable.  But under a weak moment, and perhaps the effect of wine, I purchased this album, due to curiosity, but also the fact that it's almost impossible to hear this album in its entirety online.  That I find is admirable.   If I want to hear it properly, I'm going to have to get the credit card out, and deal with the fallout if that's the case may be.   I did, and I kind of love "In The Court of the Crimson King."

To be honest, at the height of the FM radio years I loved to hear the song "In the Court of the Crimson King."  I'm a total sucker for the grand over-the-top melody, and when one adds a mellotron to the mix, it's a guilty pleasure.  Still, listening to the entire album, and looking at the credits, I was shocked that Fripp didn't write or co-write the actual "In the Court..." song!  Also, the big ballad "I Talk to the Wind" was written by its' multi-instrumentalist Ian McDonald and lyricist Peter Sinfield, who produced the first and great Roxy Music album.  It is actually through Roxy that I started to change my mind about Crimson, in that I realized that they shared similar roots and characters.  Still, the big masterpiece by King Crimson and Fripp had nothing to do with it, on a songwriting level is a shock to me. 

As an album, "In the Court..." is extremely well-paced, and the band knows something about avoiding excess, and still manage to bring out different sides of the band/work.  Side one starts off with the killer riff of "21st Century Schizoid Man" and leads perfectly to "I Talk to the Wind," and then the final cut on that side "Epitaph" (must they always have pretentious titles). This is a perfect example of economy, pace, and seducing the listener to their world.  Greg Lake is a good singer, and anyone who can sing those lyrics by Sinfield, alone, is a magnificent effort. 

Side two of the album, compared to the first, is more interesting. "Moonchild" is free-form playful music that leads up to the swelling and majestically structured "In the Court of the Crimson King."   The other surprising aspect of this album is that I always have the sound of the mellotron was attached to Fripp, but according to the credits on the record, it's McDonald who plays the instrument.  King Crimson is always a band that collaborates with all the musicians, in all forms of Crimson.  Fripp is the mainstay, but one can't underestimate the contributions from the other members of the band.  If there is another active music force on this group/album, it's for sure McDonald.  Lake comes through on his own, and the drumming of Michael Giles is solid. 

In conclusion, I'm now buying all the early King Crimson albums, for the purpose to explore whatever my taste is or was.  It is something that I can't imagine I would have done in the past, but still, there were signs of this to come. My best friend in the 1970s was very much into King Crimson and a mega-Eno fan.  He liked Fripp/Crimson first, which led him to Roxy/Eno world. That always stayed on my mind, even after all these years.

King Crimson - "Red" Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, 1974/2013 (Discipline Global Mobile)

I've avoided King Crimson ever since their first album. I admired and loved the Eno/Fripp albums as well as Robert Fripp's contributions to David Bowie's "Heroes" album, yet when it came to King Crimson, I felt like that was the Jets hangout, when I was clearly a member of The Sharks.  It wasn't until a few hours ago that under either a condition of boredom or being adventurism (or both) that I went to Amoeba and purchased "Red."

I played the album once so far, and I love it.  What surprised me, and it shouldn't have, is the connection between Roxy Music and King Crimson.   I know that Bryan Ferry was once going to audition to be their lead singer, and of course the Eno/Fripp connection as well.  But listening to "Red" reminds me of some of the longer instrumental passages of the first two Roxy albums.  It's more in that line than say garden-variety prog rock.  Fripp is exceptional of course, but John Wetton's bass playing is incredible.  A very aggressive heavy sound from that instrument that reminds me a bit of John Entwhistle or traces of a punk aesthetic concerning the noise of the bass.  Michael Nyman in his orchestra had a heavy electric bass player as well, that also stands out in such a manner. 

"Red" is a classic album, in that there are no wasted moments and all five songs are equally placed in a position that makes the album seem more like a novella than a big novel.  The beauty or strength of King Crimson and on this album is the textural playing by all musicians.  There is a riff orientation that goes through here, but also a gentle melody here and there that gives the material tension.  Fripp broke up the band right after recording "Red," I think due to the issues of the band being tied down to its prog-rock image, as well as Fripp being curious to explore the world of New York City's punk/post-punk/ no wave scene.  He didn't need to break up this band. It would have been at home in lower Manhattan. 

The Who - "Tommy" 2 xVinyl, LP, Album, 1969 (Decca)

I was 15 years old when I purchased the "Tommy" album.  Oddly enough, considering that I'm a huge Who fan (with Keith Moon/John Entwistle) now, then, I just liked the idea that they smashed their instruments after each performance.  But at 15 I got caught up on the grand aspects of pop music, and when I heard that Pete Townshend was working on an 'opera,' well, this was going to be my first Who purchase.   I admired the Townshend scope and ambition.  Also in publications like Rolling Stone, it was reported that he worked on this project for a long time.  Once I heard it, I knew it was a masterpiece, in fact, I knew so, because being a media child at the time, it was written that "Tommy" is an iconic album.   The truth is, I played the album a few times and forgot about it.  For god sake for one, they were not The Kinks!

Within decades I avoided any album by The Who after "Tommy," but over time, and with great patience, I purchased and listened to Who records that led to their 'opera.'   As a 63-year-old man, I consider that there is no such bad thing as a bad Who album or song before "Tommy."  I lost my "Tommy" album when I made the massive switch from vinyl to CD, during the digital revolution and never replaced it as I did with the earlier Who recordings.

Last March I was on a 9-hour flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles, and in that numb state of mind, I watched the current version of The Who do "Tommy."  I loved it. Not sure if it was due to the boredom of a long plane flight and being trapped in a confining coach seat on the airline, or that I just appreciated the entertainment wherever I can find it.   But it stayed with me until I went to a local record store.  It was a week ago that I bought a used copy of "Tommy" to re-introduce myself to the record without the cultural baggage that came with the rock n' roll opera.   It brought back my memory of being 15, and now I recall why I didn't like the album that much.

The music itself is brilliant.   There is not one bad tune on the entire album.  And I even love the Keith Moon song "Tommy's Holiday Camp" as well as the always brilliant composition by Entwistle "Do You Think It's Alright?"   What I do not like is the actual sound of the album itself.  My cultural hero Kit Lambert failed The Who in the sonic department.   The recording strikes me as a demo more than a finished recorded work.  A sketch when it needed a full oil-paint on a canvas.   Keep in mind that I love Lambert's production on all Who recordings that he worked on, except for the iconic "Tommy."    If I were a total lunatic, I would collect every recording of "Tommy" possible, and I may go down that dark and slippery slope shortly, but meanwhile, I think the best version of "Tommy" is the live recordings such as the longer version of "Live at Leeds."

The big primary question is "Tommy" good for rock n' roll or pop?  I don't have an answer for that.  For one, I have always seen the album as a work that is one whole and not separated by individual song tracks. Of course, this is not always the case by the artists in question.  Still, this is how I look at albums.  I rarely look at an album and go "that's a great song, but the rest...." I take the entire work as if it is (or was) a narrative novel.   There are economic reasons why albums exist, and the difference between the 45 rpm single and the 33 1/3 long player.   But when I play an album, I'm embracing the huge world that this 12" represents to me.   "Tommy" may be one of the first albums for me (as a teenager) that led to the bigger picture of how one approaches the album.  That, and "Sgt. Pepper" of course.

David Bowie - "Welcome to the Blackout (Live in London '78) 3 x Vinyl, 2018 (Parlophone)

If I can look into the fortune teller's crystal ball, I can safely predict that there will be many more live David Bowie albums in the coming years.   Which by the way, I'm not complaining.   "Welcome to the Blackout" was recorded on June 30, and July 1, 1978, and the last shows of this particular tour.  Oddly enough I do not have "Stage" in my collection, so I can't make the comparisons between the two live albums, which were both recorded on the same tour.  On the other hand, it's an exciting mix of musicians backing Bowie up.  There's the Station to Station lineup of George Murray, Carlos Alomar, and Dennis Davis - a powerful rhythm section with Alomar mostly on rhythm guitar. Then there is the arty side, which is Adrian Belew, Roger Powell (from Todd's Utopia), Sean Mayes, and violinist Simon House who played with Hawkwind.

If this were a sandwich, Murray/Alomar/Davis would be the meat, and the others are expensive dressings on those two pieces of bread.  It's a terrific band, but on record, I think I prefer the Station to Station group because it was more focused and had a more of an attack on the material.  The songs on this album are almost speeding metal versions, in that the pacing is upbeat, and goes quite quickly.  Bowie's vocals and pronunciations are perfectly pitched and entirely understandable.  The Ziggy Stardust side doesn't allow any space or silence between the songs.  It's one rush of a full-length melody that is effective.  Their version of "Ziggy Stardust" is very textured and exciting interplay between the electric violin and Belew's guitar.  

The material is very much Ziggy (all in one go) with a few songs from "Station to Station" and the rest from "Low" and "Heroes."  Oh, and there is an excellent Weill/Brecht song as well.  A must for the collection or completist, but is it essential?   Tony Visconti did the original recording of the album, and Bowie did finish this live album at the time, but forever reasons, was never released until now.  Perhaps Bowie himself is a completionist as well. 

Serge Gainsbourg & Michel Colombier - "Le Pacha" Vinyl, LP, Album, OST, 2018/1968 (Wewantsounds)

This newly released album is the original soundtrack of the film "Le Pacha," composed and made by Serge Gainsbourg and Michel Colombier.  The critical song here is Requiem Pour Un Con, which is one of the classic Gainsbourg pieces.  Easily my top three for four (or five) Serge recordings.  The relentless rhythm is brilliant, and the minimal guitars, with Gainsbourg's unique and unusual voice over the track, is essential listening.   One of the great dance pieces as well.  Nevertheless, the genius of Gainsbourg, besides his literary talents, is his ability to work with arrangers who contribute significantly to his recordings.  Michel Colombier is one of three significant arrangers who worked with Serge, to make fantastic music.  Colombier's talents were used for the late 1960s recordings. 

This release is the first time where all the music used in the film is on vinyl.  The theme of Requiem Pour Un Con runs through the album, and it's fascinating to see how they play with this remarkable melody.  Included in this package are two songs from "Mr. Freedom," a film by William Klein, which one can get through Criterion.   Funky soul, but French style.  Another win-win from the Gainsbourg/Colombier team.  Serge made numerous great OST albums or EP's and "La Pacha" is very much an essential Gainsbourg purchase and listen. 

Terry Reid - "Bang, Bang You're Terry Reid" Vinyl, LP, Album, 1968 (Epic)

Terry Reid has good taste in covers, and he has the voice that cuts through all his material.  Terry Reid is very much his voice/guitar, organ, and drums.  With some horn and what sounds like a stand-up bass on the song "Without Expression" which to me sounds like a classic Donovan song, but alas, a Reid song.  Legend has it that Jimmy Page asked Reid to be Led Zeppelin's singer, but he turned it down, but not before recommending Robert Plant.  And there is a similar sound to Reid's voice to Plant, but I think in 1968, Terry was a better singer.  Beside Plant, there is a Nina Simone touch, and he has a feminine approach to the words.  Without saying, he can sing the ABC's and make it into a moving experience.  

"Bang, Bang, You're Terry Reid" is a fantastic album.  It's very 1968, and it's produced by pop music golden ears Mickie Most, who at this time seemed to be into a heavy sound, for instance, he produced the Jeff Beck Group at this time as well.  The thing is Reid is heavy, but he treats his songs and his covers as delicate pieces of glass.  He knows how to press hard, but he gives each song a tension that is never cliche, and like my Simone comparison, he knows how to stretch, pull, and focus on the melodic dynamic of the song.   The covers here are Sonny Bono's "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)," Donovan's "Season of the Witch," the great Gene Pitney ballad "Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart," and Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues."  "Writing on the Wall" reminds me very much like The Yardbirds' "Still, I'm Sad," which they share the same producer (Most).   His version of the Cochran song has a Keith Emerson (The Nice) approach, which is unusual.  I should note here because there's no credit at all on the album that Eric Leese plays the organ and Keith Webb on the drums.  I suspect as a live act, they must have been magnificent.  Special thank you to Robert Newman for bringing Terry Reid to my attention.  

Ennio Morricone - "Ecce Homo, I Sopravvissuti" Vinyl, LP, Album, OST, 2002 (Dagored)

Ennio Morricone's "Ecce Homo: I Sopravvissuti" is one of his more obscure works, but of course, it's excellent.  This is more of his small orchestration with strings, some vocals, but basically a chamber work.  There is also a thumb-piano mixed in with the strings, and flute.   The Chimes gives it a slight exotica feel, but it's music that is quietly intense.  

"Ecce Homo" is a film from 1968 and directed by Bruno Gaburro.  If the film is like the music, it has to be an intense viewing experience.  Although Morricone wrote for the screen, I feel his music works just as well as an independent music piece.  I have to imagine that the works here are incidental pieces - there is no major theme music, but just a series of music that's similar or plays with the major theme.  The great Edda Dell'Orso is the vocalist, and again, her operatic touches are magical and profoundly beautiful.  In sections, I think of John Cage's prepared piano music, but I think due that the piano (prepared piano?) and thumb-piano are used in a rhythmic manner.  Also noted is the conductor, the great Bruno Nicolai.  

Wallace Berman - "(In Conversation)" Vinyl, LP, Album, Spoken Word, Limited Edition, Mono, 2015 (Edition Muta)

Without a doubt, the most personal recording in my record collection.  It's a conversation between my father the artist Wallace Berman with Hal Glicksman, a curator, and Jack & Ruth Hirschman, with my mom Shirley Berman as well.  On top of that, it was a secretly taped conversation.  My father didn't have the slightest idea that Hal was taping their chat, until halfway through this recording.  My father was famous for not giving interviews, and pretty much avoided talking about his artwork. He very much believed that the art itself should communicate with the viewer.  And he had an intense mistrust with popular media, which is ironic because Wallace used images from mass-produced magazines.  Or perhaps that alone is a comment on the nature of images and art.  Nevertheless, this is very much a typical night at the Berman household.   What I found shocking is the mention of Boris Vian by Jack, which many years in the future I became devoted to this author, and ended up publishing all his significant novels with my press TamTam Books.   The past becomes very much part of my present and going back listening to this recording, makes me realize that things are set in motion. It's a strange disconnect between my life now and then.   A fascinating document and I do recommend this to anyone who has an interest in my father's work, as well as American counter-culture life during 1968.  The album is a limited edition of 400.  I also wrote the liner notes for this release.