March 1973 - 'Dark Side of the Moon' enters the charts

The UK pop charts from March 1973. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon makes its first appearance in the album chart. It stayed there for the next 10 years, but apparently it never made it to Number 1.

It was the album that came to define progressive rock in the 1970s, with the iconic prism cover and production values that must have shifted hi-fis and headphones by the million. 

The ultimate concept album, Dark Side of the Moon covers the span of birth and death, touching on key themes of time, love, death, war and madness. 

Responses to questions on these topics - from staff at Abbey Road studios and the band’s crew - are weaved into the narrative. Each song merges into the next, giving the album a seamless flow that transported listeners, some of whom were lucky enough to hear the music on quality stereo systems, or on headphones. This was the age when hi-fi was becoming more accessible. Dark Side as the demonstration disc of choice for many years afterwards.

 I was lucky enough to see them perform Dark Side Of The Moon live in 1974 at the Empire Pool, Wembley. You can see the ticket at the top of my blog. The concert was in two parts; the first half was them road-testing songs that would appear on their next two albums, Wish You Were Here and Animals, including an early version of Shine On You Crazy Diamond. 

Part two of the show was Dark Side played in its entirety, complemented by visuals projected onto a circular screen, many of which can be seen in the Classic Albums programme about DSOTM.

They encored with Echoes, from the album Meddle, which is still one of my favourite pieces by Pink Floyd. 

The singles chart in 1973 was the usual mix of the cool and the seriously uncool. The notable aspect is the high proportion of soul artists, including Roberta Flack, the Detroit Emeralds, Timmy Thomas, Jimmy Helms, the O'Jays and Gladys Knight.

The albums list contains quite a few all-time classics, including Stevie Wonder's Talking Book, Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, Moving Waves by Focus, Holland by the Beach Boys and Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon & Garfunkel. 

Also on this blog:
Pink Floyd On Tour - 1974 and 1977

Reviewing Pink Floyd - Their Mortal Remains at the V&A

Vegetable Man - Syd Barrett's last recordings with Pink Floyd

February 1970 - Bowie in obscurity, Mick Ronson joins Michael Chapman

Michael Chapman's album Fully Qualified Survivor had just been released on Harvest. It featured some classic Mick Ronson guitar, instantly recognisable now as the sound Ronson would soon deliver on David Bowie's album The Man Who Sold The World. But in February 1970, it would be hard to say who was the more successful of the two, Bowie or Ronson.

Mick Ronson in 1970

David was at this point involved in his Arts Lab project and had formed an electric band, The Hype, a vehicle for the new songs he had written, some of which would be heard on his next album, The Man Who Sold The World.

The Hype was Bowie with Tony Visconti on bass, Mick Ronson on guitar and John Cambridge on drums. Cambridge had been replaced by Ronson's mate Woody Woodmansey by the time they came to record TMWSTW in the late summer of 1970.

Here's a short clip of them performing the Velvet Underground's 'I'm Waiting For The Man' at the 'Atomic Sunrise' festival in February 1970.

They also did a radio session for the BBC's Sounds Of The Seventies the following month.

Bowie was still a long way (another two years) from seeing any more commercial success, after his lone hit Space Oddity in 1969. Mick Ronson, on the other hand, was not only helping Bowie forge a new sound, but was being picked up by various other emerging artists, including Michael Chapman and Elton John.

Here is Ronson to the fore on this track from Fully Qualified Survivor, 'Stranger in the Room

The common denominator between Chapman and Elton was producer Gus Dudgeon. Gus was so impressed with Ronson's playing on Fully Qualified Survivor, he recommended Elton John check him out for his forthcoming album Madman Across The Water.

Ronson did record some guitar for Elton's record, but it didn't make the final mix of the original album release. In fact, it didn't see the light of day until much later, when a CD reissue of the album featured out-take tracks, including the version of Madman with Ronson's guitar part.

Here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CExEESuhhPg

Bowie on stage in 1970

Meanwhile, as the above page from the Melody Maker of the time shows, on Tuesday this week, Ronson had started gigging with Bowie and The Hype, who were booked to play at the White Bear pub in Hounslow! In the advert, they were billed as 'David Bowie's new electric band'.

It's fair to say The Hype were not well received by the critics. Bowie's questing for the right sound to reboot his career would take a few more twists, before he finally hit the big time with Ziggy Stardust in 1972.

He was at a particularly low point when he appeared at Glastonbury in 1971, but took encouragement from the reception at the festival, even though he was playing at dawn.

Bowie told how he was up all night smoking dope with Terry Reid and Linda Lewis. He took the stage at 5am, but nonetheless he seems to have captivated those who were awake.

Bowie at Glastonbury in 1971

Audio of his Glastonbury appearance exists, in which he thanks the audience for appreciating him, at a time when he was considering giving up playing live altogether:

"I just want to say that you’ve given me more pleasure than I’ve had in a good few months of working. I don’t do gigs any more because I got so pissed off with working, and dying a death every time I worked, and it’s really nice to have somebody appreciate me for a change.”

The Supermen: Mick, David and Woody, 1971

 

Here's some rare footage of Michael Chapman, live in Paris in 1970, with Rick Kemp on bass and Richie Dharma on drums - both of whom are mentioned in the above news item about Chapman teaming up with Ronson in the MM cutting, under 'Folk News'.

The Heyday of the NME

There's a been a lot of talk this week about the closure of the NME's print edition - the end of an era and all that. In his Guardian obituary for the music paper, Alex Petridis reckoned the NME had umpteen “golden eras” which he said usually had less to do with the quality of the writing "than whether or not you were 17 or 18 when you were reading it".|

That's true-ish, but really, the legend of the NME as the cool, trend-setting weekly bible for music fans, was formed in the first half of the 1970s, which was really a hangover from the late 60s. It was a wild and often chaotic paper in those days, informed by the underground press vibe of Oz and IT, that had spawned some of the NME's own writers including Charles Shaar Murray and Nick Kent.

It was the first break with the formal traditions of music writing, passed down through the jazz age in the 50s and the still formal and respectful pop journalism of the 60s. The more anarchic style of the NME's new brand of hacks made star names out of maverick characters like CSM, Nick Kent, Mick Farren and Ian MacDonald.

They were given as much space as they wanted and used the opportunity to write think pieces about relatively obscure artists. Kent's long elegy to Nick Drake soon after the singer's death, was a landmark in UK rock journalism, influenced no doubt by the kind of intelligent analysis they had seen in Rolling Stone.

The central storyline of Kent's 1975 three-part series on Brian Wilson, 'The Last Beach Movie', was the collapse of the Beach Boys' 'Smile' project. It was the first time most of us had heard any details about the album Wilson was forced to abort in 1967 and Kent's detailed account was rightly acclaimed.

This was also a time when the market was clearly divided between pop and rock, albums and singles, US and UK - two very distinct music markets in those days. America was still a foreign land in those pre-cheap transatlantic travel days. The NME writers schooled us ordinary folk in the different music coming out of New York, Detroit, LA and San Francisco.

Meanwhile, the thinking freak's rock critic, Ian MacDonald, a Cambridge drop-out, was writing feature length pieces about Todd Rundgren, Steely Dan and Sparks - expanding our consciousness and daring us to go along for the ride. Ian Mac was the guy that turned me on to all these artists and more.






















It wasn't all ground-breaking though; much of the rest of the NME was throwaway - entertaining that Thursday when it hit the streets but not meant to last. Nonetheless it was a reflection of the time. Rock had yet to become an 'industry'. The lunatics were still running the asylum. The Lone Groover, Tony Benyon's stoned cartoon character, was emblematic of the long-haired freak scene, a hangover from the sixties that persisted until the advent of punk. The NME's album reviews were often wildly funny, but often dismissive - and downright wrong - about albums and artists whose work is now justly revered. From Bowie to Joni to Marley and even the early punk scene - there are individual examples where the NME's writers didn't get it right.

But collectively they had great taste, as the 1974 Top 100 albums demonstrates. Every single one of those 100 albums remains a classic, which I suppose goes to support the idea that the period up to 1975 was the classic era for rock and roll.

No doubting that things changed from '77 onwards, and if truth be told, the NME's writers were as blindsided by the new wave as any of the other music mags. For a time though, in the first half of that decade, they created the lasting legend of the NME. The rebelliousness was now led by the musicians themselves, and arguably that's just another form of PR. But the legend of an NME full of edgy, exciting music writing allowed it to remain in business way beyond any of the other music papers of the time. Melody Maker and Sounds went the way of the dinosaurs. Smash Hits was wildly successful for 20 years but was closed in 2006. It's a wonder the NME lasted as long as it did.

Bowie - "It's a Drive-In Saturday"

 

Other-worldly. In the early 1970s, David Bowie really was that rock hero from another planet, the starman waiting in the sky. His words and music sparked the imagination of a new generation of pop fans. The images from the Ziggy Stardust period in 1972 and '73 show an artist taking the early stylings of Glam Rock established by T. Rex and Slade to a whole different level. The front cover of the Ziggy Stardust album plays up the other-worldliness perfectly, as if Bowie had just fallen to earth. And this advert for his 1973 single 'Drive-in Saturday' plays on the other-worldly persona; a cleverly cultivated image and a perfect complement to the music. Drive-in Saturday  is one of the stand-out tracks on the 'Aladdin Sane' album and, for some fans it is one of Bowie's greatest songs. Its setting is a futuristic world where people have forgotten how to make love. When he played the song live soon after he wrote it, Bowie said, "This is after a catastrophe of some kind, and some people are living on the streets and some people are living in domes, and they borrow from one another and try to learn how to pick up the pieces."

 

Kansas - why 'Leftoverture' is their masterpiece album

Kansas may just be the ugliest band in the world. Not hip or trendy in any way, but if you can put that aside and you have an appreciation for progressive rock, read on.

Most people in the UK have barely heard of the band Kansas. To put my interest in context, 1977 was a schizophrenic year. My old concert tickets show that I saw Black Sabbath and Pink Floyd, but I also saw The Clash and the Sex Pistols.

In the middle of all that, in the summer of ‘77, I went to America for the first time and stayed with the family of one of the girls from a school exchange trip in ‘76. We bonded over a shared appreciation of Boston’s first album.

The music on the American FM radio at the time - WPLR out of Newhaven, Connecticut was our favoured station - included Aerosmith (Toys In The Attic), Foghat Live, Frampton Comes Alive, Rumours (you couldn’t get away from it) and Leftoverture by Kansas, which contained their big hit at the time, 'Carry On Wayward Son'. Some of it has stayed with me. All of it, in fact, except Foghat.

Carry On Wayward Son

Leftoverture has great songs and playing, progressive in style with some intricate but not too complex arrangements - just the right mix of guitar and keyboards to keep the whole thing interesting. It was on heavy rotation in my bedroom in the late 70s. I saw them live at London's Hammersmith Odeon in 1978 too, playing the set you can hear on the live album from that time 'Two For The Show'.

One of the key facets of the album is Kerry Livgren's guitar playing, which manages to be heavy, but in a sophisticated way that brings in elements of classical guitar. The interplay and harmony between the guitar and keyboards is also way more sophisticated than most rock bands at the time could manage. Make no mistake, this is progressive rock.

The extended songs and the wonderful melodies are topped off with the incredible singing of Steve Walsh. He broke out of his rather nerdy look on their early albums (tbh, none of them were lookers) to become a much more showy front-man. Still a little strange at times, with his '70s sports look, bouncing around his keyboard, but there can be no dispute that he was a fantastic singer.  

Kerry Livgren, the main songwriter on Leftoverture

Kansas have recently released a 40th anniversary 'Leftoverture' concert CD, with a second CD of other classic material. It's probably not the best starting point, but it does at least highlight their prog credentials, including as it does many of their long-form compositions.

This latest incarnation of Kansas contains only two original members out of six – drummer Phil Ehart and rhythm guitarist Rich Williams. Leader and songwriter Kerry Livgren left many years ago, while more recent departures include Steve Walsh, along with their other original singer and violinist Robbie Steinhardt.

So, the first thing anyone familiar with the originals will have to get over is the change of singer. Vocals are now handled mainly by new keyboardist Ronnie Platt, supported by bassist Billy Greer. Platt can carry a tune, but prog singing requires a certain delivery to match the ostentation of the music. Steve Walsh had that in spades. A song like Journey from Mariabronn, from the first Kansas album, is one of their most successful compositions, made especially effective by Walsh’s impassioned delivery. Platt, while he hits the notes, can’t convey the drama in the same way.

 

Journey From Mariabronn

This clip is a little fuzzy but it's the real thing. Early Kansas in all their prog pomp.
Listening to ‘Journey from Mariabronn’ again on this live disc, I’m reminded they did some really good long-form compositions that mark them out as the best of the few US bands that could be compared with their UK prog peers.

Those who bought the Best of Kansas because they liked 'Carry On…' and 'Dust In The Wind' may have missed that point, which is why Kansas get lumped in with the pomp rock bands like Boston and Styx.

Here's 'Icarus - Wings of Steel'

I had hoped for a large dollop of nostalgia listening to them play Leftoverture, which takes up disc 2. It was OK, but I felt I was listening to a tribute band. If you don’t have the originals, this is not the place to start. Get a copy of Leftoverture and the original live album, Two For The Show.

This youtube video of Rick Beato dissecting Carry On Wayward Son is terrific. He breaks the song down, isolating the different instruments and the way they harmonise in key passages. It's really insightful - and he plays the riffs! Outstanding work.

If you want to investigate further, the albums either side of Leftoverture – Song For America and Point of Know Return, as well as the first album – are worth checking out.

 

Also on this blog:

Pink Floyd on tour in 1974 and 1977

 

The Yes Album - 50 years old and still sounding great

 

Genesis on tour in 1975 - Peter Gabriel quits 

 

Well certainly the hairiest band anyway