Re-issues Reviews

Gettin' into focus: the Dutch legends' psych classic for a current mind to melt.

Most famous as a launch pad for FOCUS, it was in BRAINBOX that guitarist Jan Akkerman and drummer Pierre van der Linden sharpened their creative teeth to bite bigger things, but in their native Netherlands the latter band's first album is more than a footnote in the former's history. More so, the LP still sounds strong, lacking many a contemporary's naivete - if it lurks in the straightforward reading of "Reason To Believe", then the raging "Summertime" blows such a gauze to pieces - and while there's much energy in these exercises in interpretation, the group's originals make the obligatory covers look pale.

If "Baby, What You Want Me To Do" shows the quartet were a mean blues force, and "Scarborough Fair" gently drives its ever-sprawling pile into the listener's unconscious, lubricating its way with organ and flute, "Dark Rose" is delightfully demented slice of rhythm-and-blues that shoves Kaz Lux's soulful voice to the fore of frenetic funky scratch, and the 17-minute "Sea Of Delight" could have been embraced by the most experienced acid-fried Californian - but the piece, all its Eastern motifs, time changes and solos creating a kaleidoscopic swirl of aural images - is a trip in itself. The scarcity of the players' own material on the LP is compensated here by no less than 11 single sides where "Amsterdam - The First Days" rocks the catchy riff, "Cruel Train" chugs over the emotional gamut and "Down Man" explores the troglodytes' groovy step.

The Akkerman fans will love his fretwork race on "Doomsday Train" and the lyrical lace of "Good Morning Day", yet it was Jan's desire to play outside the BOX that got him ousted for FOCUS to be born. There'd be more albums and Akkerman/Lux work but "Brainbox" still retains its erstwhile allure.

****

Straight off PLANET GONG, the Ladbroke Grove bunch battles the punk spikes in their own frenzied way.

Looks like Daevid Allen needed some good dirt to give the GONG offshoot a nice start in 1977, and he found the perfect soil in HERE & NOW. A rough-sounding collective bent on spontaneity and jamming before that, once the PLANET went to pieces the band picked up its idiosyncratic progness to create their own beast, "Give And Take". Weird yet engaging, "What You See Is What You Are", which seems to be skipping a beat in its Zappa-esque first part and goes spaceward on the leader Keith Bailey's bass jive in the second, traps one's ears to let go when the swirl grinds to a halt in "Improvisation" that's exactly that - a fantastic folky free freak flow.

One of the best - and one of the most unsung - British rock belters receives his due.

The light percussive masterpiece with heavy guests at the feast table but no pixie lurking in the shadows.

Daevid Allen's GONG had an idiosyncratic wind about them, and Pierre Moerlen joined the party right in the midst of it, during the "Radio Gnome Trilogy" phase. But when the band's founding fathers left, the drummer was left to pursue a smooth dream of his own. In 1979, finally free from the Virgin contract, the classically trained Moerlen pushed his name to the fore and set about playing the highly melodic fusion with a prominent pop nous which strokes all the right places.

The only strange choice being Babatunde Olatunji's "Jin-Go-Lo-Ba" - SANTANA's version is impossible to upstage in the percussion department - its fire Europeized in the French hands, the original material runs from the airy "Aeroplane" to "What You Know" with Mick Taylor guitar to paint Moerlen's vocals in blues. And when it comes to things to hit, "Crosscurrents" feels the place to dwell thanks to Pierre's brother Benoit Moerlen's vibraphone and Francois Causse's marimba joining the drums, and Hansford Rowe's supple bass slapping the leader's synth rack. MAGMA's Didier Lockwood's violin spices the brew here as well as in the gentle "Emotions", where all other instruments are laid down by the main man.

This simplicity is opposed to the epic title track that sees Michael Oldfield's cosmic guitar repay Moerlen his involvment in the tubular bells master's projects, yet it's other tubes, Pierre's glockenspiel, that reign here above Terry Oldfield's flute and Steve Winwood's Moog, while the rest of percussion ties it all to the ground and the old GONG sax-blower Didier Malherbe helps to build the delicious tension. The release comes with the shimmering "Xtasea" that winds down the album: such perfect balance between unpredictable and sweet would never be achieved again.

*****

Subtitled "Angel Air Rocks!", the compilation sees the seasoned label ranging their seasoned stable.

One avian transformation makes for a wonderful, if doomed, flight.

Ripped by their accountants to the extent where even the mighty "Sympathy" didn't bring them much money, RARE BIRD had no other choice but split. Eager to play, keyboards master Graham Fields secured a better deal and, on Robert Fripp's advice, got former CRIMSO drummer Andrew McCulloch on board, who brought in bassist-guitarist Alan Barry into the fold: thus, this trio were born - ELP-like but with a different agenda.

"Over And Over Again" sounds like a purest progressive rock, where instrumental prowess vies for the listener's attention with the music soulness, and the opening salvo of "A Friend Of Mine" holds a classic bombast. But the fugue drive is pushed towards a cosmic dance in the mix of heavy organ and light synthesizer, and an arresting vocal line that gets straight to the heart, while the head is bobbing to the rhythm. Then, there's "Three Minstrels" the folk drone of which has a vertiginous medieval fair effect, yet many of the pieces here possess a pop suss, "Feeling Free" exploring the spiritual side of things, "A Place To Lay My Head" flowing down the blues stream and and "While The Sun Still Shines" forestalling glam rock, the "no pretence" feel making the result adorable rather than reverent.

Sadly, this was the band's only record, all due to the business again, yet the FIELDS' pastures are still welcoming.

****1/2

A progressive rendezvous that, sadly, wouldn't last. The memories are pleasant, though.

Exceptionality stated in the very title: the best rock album from the very center of Europe, with all the grandiose aspects that go with it.

With something rock-like about Republik Osterreich, the Austrians' lack of looseness made their country poor on rock 'n' roll. But it's the same approach that produced EELA CRAIG, the inescapably artsy septet who took five years after their debut to snatch their second album, "One Niter", out of symphonic waters, and the same reserve that made it a masterpiece.

Hubert Bognermayr, the band's leader, escapes any pompousness here, exploring Gothic rather than Renaissance motifs in the records' two epics. There is a stark solemnity in "One Niter Medley", that of the space kind, and an orchestral beauty, while in "Circles" he steers the synthesizers' flight towards Elysian pastures, once the dust of the main anthemic theme settles down and the cosmic funk's echoes fall silent. It could be labeled new age if it didn't feel so antique and didn't have rock guitar at its most lyrically heroic to spill over into "Loner's Rhyme" and go on the scintillating tiles again. George Clinton would have approved such cheekiness - jazzy in the fabulous "Way Down" - so the flute and acoustic guitars "Venezuela" make it all pastoral only for a change and a charge. A complete adventure.

****

Subtitled "The Anthology", a brace of two sparkling albums from the British folkie whose rock conversion was mightier than Dylan's.

The sprawling goodbye with an obscene ambition utterly fulfilled - and then some. An album big but beautiful.

The received wisdom says OUT OF FOCUS dissipated due to the musicians pulling in their own direction. It might be so - in places the German's band third, and last, record sounds exactly like it - yet all could be vice versa, for it was here the players finally bloomed to have their individual agendas. Ideas abound, "Four Letter Monday Afternoon" just had to be a double LP, or effectively, two albums under one cover.

The three-part suite "Huchen 55" that takes the whole of the second disc could stand out in its own, enveloping one's ears with a delicate folk which transforms into an anxious art rock, bent on free-form extemporization and led mostly by organist Hennes Hering and the flute-wielding guitarist Remigius Drechsler. It's deep and complex yet indefinitely tasty, save for the part C where all hell breaks loose to rip the joint asunder and then get it together again on a new, more energetic, if slow, level.

The first disc is more digestible, even palatable, with memorable pieces like the scat-lifted Gypsy carnival of "Tsajama" or baroque blues of "When I'm Sleeping", where the titular four-letter word makes its appearance. Still, the marching dirge of "L.S.B" with its acid-burnt guitar scorching the ground under the brass storm opens the album to a vista so large it's difficult to measure, yet very easy to be drawn into and revel in this faux-symphonic mix of progressive fusion, especially once the synthesizer brings on a trance-inducing drone. Broken later on with explosions and smoothed with a flute, the war tableau is complete and a playful jazz gallop comes on to paint the modern scene with a plonking guitar and boogie piano. Then, "Where Have You Been" is a pensive acoustic ballad, with another expletive for more impact - it's more Sunday than Monday in its mood, and is a perfect way to get out of this swirl of an album, so swap the discs and surrender to the flow.

****4/5

The train, already gone, blows its last - and strong, if different - whistle. But whether there was a band remains a question.

Minimalism on a grand scale making an aquatic picture near impossible to fathom.

Still cutting it to shreds, the future of heavy metal that time and the world criminally forgot.

Praised by the press back in the day, the Ealing quintet arrived on the scene a bit too late to get in the NBOWBHM competition at a full force. Their released legacy is scarce, the classic line-up having put out a sole EP, but the music MOURNBLADE played remains fresh in their time-bubble to kick a listener in the balls as hard now. The fantasy slant may paint the group as heroic, and Dunken Mullet's vocals are warrior-like indeed, yet it's the rock 'n' roll zap and Rich Jones' hookful riffalama that's the catch of their first demo, 1984's "Anthem Of Chaos", which has all the energy of the four tracks served up two years later on the aforementioned mini-album, the heart of this collection.

The "Ein Heldebtraum" EP, heavy as it is, somehow fails to deliver the punch, due to keyboards smoothing the sharp edges and the overall theatricality of songs like the HAWKWIND-indebted "Science Friction" or "The Stairway", while the qualities play out strong on the live recordings such as the fantastic "Eternal Champion" and "Servants Of Fate" - mid-paced for the best impact and shot through with bass rumble - that make the bulk of the CD. These tapes show how tight a unit the band were on-stage: had they pushed a little harder on "Sidewinder", the speed metal crowd would have adored them, yet the Brits didn't go for the modern grit and, thus, entered obscurity.

The seeds of future being sown, the present is lost to be rediscovered.

Method to the madness: the German hipsters got their act together to take on jazz - in their own rebellious way.

The greatest white blues chanteuse in America struts her star-studded stuff. A reason to get crazy, indeed.

Forget about that insecure girl called Janis who Kathi McDonald replaced in BIG BROTHER & THE HOLDING COMPANY; better think of Maggie Bell, the equally underrated soul warbler who mined the similar vein in the UK at the same time. But when it came to stellar cast on her solo debut, McDonald, a veteran of sessions for the likes of THE ROLLING STONES and Leon Russell, saw no equal, and the fact the singer isn't overshadowed here by her guests speaks volumes of her talent. After all, how many artists would dare to engage Sly Stone in fantastic reading of the Willie Dixon-penned title cut which closes this record?

Mythical Nordic coldness psyched-up to a multicolored warm sea. The only vestige of a great band that never blossomed.

Being praised by collectors doesn't mean a certain LP is of much interest content-wise, but in this case it's certainly so. Led by axeman Rodney Harrison, previously with BULLDOG BREED, and welcomed by the MOODY BLUES' label "Threshold", ASGARD's only outing entered obscurity soon after its release, as the record company had its directors to look after, yet proves to be an outstanding opus.

Why didn't "Town Crier" challenge SLADE in its glittery spill, remains a mystery - perhaps, here's too much naivete for 1972, even in a driving jig of "Friends" but, above all, in the breezy "Children Of A New Born Age". The equally memorable title track, meanwhile, is a pop confection in a progressive, violin-sprinkled coating with a memorable chorus and a tremendous, although short, rocking guitar solo, whereas the BREED's "Austin Osmanspare" re-emerges enveloped in orchestra, and "Time" comes on as a nicely psyched-up slice of electric folk rock. Rich on melody and going spaceward in the infectious acoustics of "Starquest", the realm of ASGARD is the place to revisit - and not for sweet nostalgia but for pleasure.

****3/4

The heavy metal kid steers his own flying object with some well-known tunes along with new numbers on board.

Who's that guy? He knew you'd ask - otherwise why admit his stance in the heavy groove of "Never Been Cool"? But when you reach the swaggering "Midnight Lady", you'll recognize its author, the former UFO keyboard and guitar player. Peyronel's style, first demonstrated in HEAVY METAL KIDS, who Danny leads again now, is basically the same on his first solo album: sharp riffs, smooth runs and memorable melodies. Which is all one needs to have a ball stadium-wide as "Makin' Room For Noah" welcomes to do, and why not if the title track so nicely follows in the wake of "Born To Be Wild"? Ah, the panache!

And then, the delicate blues: it fills the ever-expanding silky bubble of "Ships In The Night" and the '80s sheen of "Bigger Than Love". The similar jungly vibe rings in the remake of "Lie For A Lie" which Peyronel originally submitted for David Gilmour to sing on "Profiles", Nick Mason-Rick Fenn collaboration, another resurrected classic being the buzzing "Midnight At The Lost And Found" that Meat Loaf used to belt out. Now Danny's voice, operatically trained, sounds stronger than ever - crank up the tar-sticky "Happy" to appreciate the scope - and if you miss the classic UFO songwriting, "This Heart Is Broken" will quench your thirst. Meet the master in his element.

****

The most atmospheric duo find their blissful spot to flower and grow in power.

Island was the place to land for JADE WARRIOR once they were discarded by Vertigo, as Chris Blackwell's empire had no borders when it came to style, even though for this group his vision dictated dropping a vocalist and turn instrumental - which, perhaps, was what made the band sharpen their focus and become so unique. In their case, still, sharpening the focus meant throwing it out the door and open up to the atmospheric, ambient space with unpredictable dynamics: don't turn up the volume if the initial flossy quietude of "Clouds" feels too watercolor to embrace, as a drum will suddenly burst into your ear while guitar wails far away. Here, Tony Duhig's six strings show their teeth in crazy Balinese chug "Monkey Chant" and the heavy "Red Lotus", rare examples of the band's ability to rock hard and heavy, whereas the shadow of Debussy lurks here and there.

The most transparent and traditionally progressive the group fly in the captivating "Easty" - Mike Oldfield might have found kindred spirits in the duo - but there's much more jazzy bass to walk nicely around "Mountain Of Fruit And Flowers", where Jon Field's woodwind and organ roam in thunderous unison, just like acoustic and electric axes go in serene, if pregnant with anxiety, "Rain Flower". The closing "Quba" wraps things up in silky panorama and brings on an emotional resolution to the sonic enigma of "Floating World" without revealing everything. It's close yet out of reach, and here lies the album's enduring allure.

****

A slightly chaotic reveille that arouses a listener to a new kind of reverie.