Roxy Music - Ferry and Eno still vying for our attention

Ferry and Eno, the glamour twins

As I head back to my second home, Hong Kong, for another of my quarterly visits, I recall that a few years ago I spotted a strange coincidence along one of the main roads in the central city.

Far removed from the leopardskin and bacofoil beginnings of Roxy Music in 1972, Bryan Ferry and Brian Eno were now advertising luxury brands. It seems their rivalry stretches down the years in mysterious ways.

Viewed from a passing taxi in the Central district of Hong Kong, there, on giant billboards were the two Roxy rivals vying for our attention as they have done ever since Roxy's breakthrough.

Bryan Ferry is a fan of the Mandarin Oriental

Across the road from the hotel itself, Ferry is shown as a 'fan' of the Mandarin Oriental.

A matter of yards further along, Eno is seen beseeching us to consume Dunhill's wares.

In 1972, Roxy were a publicist's dream, with their exotic costumes, slicked-back hair and distinctive musical hybrid.

They played up to that other-worldliness to the extent I can vividly recall a Radio 1 'Newsbeat' report that the band's synth wizard Eno was actually from Mars. 

A few yards along, Brian Eno endorses Dunhill

Although by his own admission he was only semi-literate musically, Eno's flamboyant costumes were the focal point for the band.

Look at any photo of them in their early days and Eno is at the forefront. The picture here of them on stage in 1972 shows how the audience's attention was drawn towards Eno.

It worked to their advantage when they were trying to establish themselves, but ultimately, it threatened to steal the spotlight away from Ferry, the band's undeniable leader since he wrote and sang all the songs.

In retrospect, given their phenomenal output, Eno's departure from Roxy was inevitable.

It is arguable which of them has had the more lasting influence, and frankly it doesn't matter, they have both produced great work over a long and, certainly in Eno's case, varied career. Roxy Music couldn't hope to contain two such big musical egos, and over the years we have been fortunate to hear what each of them, unfettered by the other, has been able to produce.

Bryan Ferry and Eno in 1972

In spite of his musical limitations, Eno must have added something to the Roxy sound, because those first two albums on which he appears have a distinctive vibe. And he proved his worth in his subsequent solo career, right from the off with his first album Here Come The Warm Jets and the hit single Seven Deadly Fins.

His early ambient records, the Berlin albums with David Bowie, the collaborations with Robert Fripp, David Byrne, Daniel Lanois and others are all major landmarks in recorded music.

Ferry has the edge in terms of being a traditional songwriter and live performer, as well as being the pioneer of a distinctive style with Roxy that was quite unique.

He still tours and although I haven't seen him live since 2005, at that time he delivered a surprisingly rocking show, driven on by the ever-dependable Paul Thompson on drums (announced by Ferry in time-honoured fashion as 'the Great Paul Thompson') with a twin guitar line-up of Chris Spedding and Mick Green.

Lucy Wilkins on violin playing the Eddie Jobson solo from Out Of The Blue note for note. It was a fantastic gig, but the most remarkable thing about it was that Mick Green, the veteran guitarist from The Pirates, having just played a blistering solo, collapsed, just fell over, like a tall tree, guitar still strapped to him.

Everyone’s looking at Eno

 At first we thought it must be a joke, but after a few moments, road crew appeared and a couple of doctors from the audience ran down to the front. Green had suffered a heart attack, from which he recovered (he died a couple of years later).

Green was dragged off-stage and Ferry gave the scene a quick glance, but the show carried on without missing a beat. No mention was made of it. On with the show, eh?

So cast your mind back to that wonderful period in 1972 when Glam was the new sensation and Roxy appeared on Top Of The Pops. One of the most exciting TV music moments ever.

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Virginia Plain - Top Of The Pops, 1972
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gJIH6cOMPs

Re-Make Re-Model - Royal College of Art, 1972
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWhzG9cQGgc

Ladytron - Old Grey Whistle Test, 1972
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44VEfWgbLSE&list=PL6C0142F66F552D65

Do The Strand - OGWT, 1972
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YzB70L5g-4

Editions of You - Montreux, 1973
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgHv9NCgyy0&list=PL6C0142F66F552D65

March 1978 - The Rutles Are Coming!

A postcard dropped on the doormat in March 1978, sent from the press office at Warner Brothers (WEA actually) where a mate of mine worked.

The postcard was heralding the television premiere on Easter Monday of All You Need Is Cash, the story of legendary British beat group The Rutles.

The Prefab Four

Note the postmark advert for Elvis Costello's second album

The Prefab Four, as they were known, were the brainchild of Monty Python's Eric Idle, with songs (not entirely) originally composed by Neil Innes of the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, who had collaborated on music for the Monty Python movies. His contribution to Holy Grail, for example, included the famous Tale of Sir Robin.

The Rutles' career arc was oddly familiar - from early days in Northwest England, to worldwide fame - Rutlemania! - the expansion of their musical horizon after consumption of exotic teas - and the embracing of eastern religion.

The TV special, shown at Easter time on BBC2 and on American TV the same week, included 
appearances by George Harrison, Mick and Bianca Jagger, Paul Simon, Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, Bill Murray and Gilda Radner. The Saturday Night Live actors had become fans of the Rutles when Idle and Innes appeared on SNL in 1977.

For All You Need Is Cash, The Rutles characters, apart from Idle, were played by real-life musicians. 

Innes played singer and guitarist Ron Nasty, Idle was singer and bass player Dirk McQuickly.  

Ricky Fataar (a drummer in real life with the Beach Boys) played guitarist Stig O'Hara. 

John Halsey (drummer in the band Patto, whose sessions include Lou Reed's Transformer album) played drummer Barrington Womble, otherwise known as Barry Wom.

Guitarist Ollie Halsall, also from the band Patto, who was one of the studio musicians on the Rutles recording sessions, appears in the Rutles film as Leppo, the fifth Rutle "a friend of Nasty's from art college, who mainly used to stand at the back".

The Prefab Four became the most popular group in the whole world, loved for their cheeky banter as much as for their music.

 Here's the original trailer for The Rutles: All You Need Is Cash

Of course, The Rutles were a very closely observed pastiche of The Beatles. All You Need Is Cash is narrated by an earnest Alan Whicker-type documentary presenter and highlights the key moments of their career in the 1960s, familiar to anyone with a reasonable knowledge of The Fabs and with helpful commentary from Jagger and others:

Jagger: Why did the Rutles break up? Women. Just women. Getting in the way. Cherchez la femme, you know.
Narrator: Do you think they'll ever get back together again?
Jagger: I hope not.

The show features some wicked caricatures of Rutle associates, such as Gwen Taylor in a Nazi costume playing the Yoko-like Chastity.

While the Rutles film now looks rather quaint and of its time, the music composed by Neil Innes still has universal appeal, because it is so fiendishly close to the source material. 

The Rutles - Ouch!
The Rutles - With A Girl Like You
The Rutles - Get Up And Go

Too close for some: While George Harrison was happy to provide some funding for the project and to appear in the film, Paul and John didn't see the funny side of having their music pastiched in this way.

The initial reaction to All You Need Is Cash from UK audiences was appreciative without being ecstatic. The Prefab Four's legend grew, though, with repeat TV showings. Perhaps it was a case, as had happened with The Beatles, that people needed to be told that this was actually a spoof.

And so, in May 1978, I received another postcard from WEA. The BBC were giving The Rutles another go, with a showing on BBC 1 at 10:15pm on May 27th.

The postcard featured the covers of various Rutles albums, With The Rutles, Tragical History Tour, Sgt. Rutters Only Darts Club Band and Let It Rot.

On the back of the postcard was a sample of "genuine Rutle trouser fabric", authenticated by the former Rutles manager, Leggy Mountbatten, now living in Australia.

Genuine Rutle trouser fabric

Archie Macaw, Record Producer: Well, one day this rather odd chap hopped into the office. He'd been to see virtually everyone in the business and been shown the door. He asked to see MY door, but I wouldn't show it to him. Instead, he showed me the photographs and tapes of the Rutles. They were pretty rough, but they had something.

Narrator: What was it?

Macaw: I think it was the trousers.

 
Following the release of The Rutles album in the 1978, ATV Music, the then-owner of the Beatles publishing rights, sued Innes for copyright infringement. Innes was always on a sticky wicket legally because The Rutles were unmistakeably a Beatles rip-off, however affectionate.

Lennon and McCartney both felt that, at least with some of the songs such as Get Up And Go, that Innes had sailed too close to the originals. He was forced to settle out of court for 50% of the royalties on the 14 songs included on the Rutles album.

In 2019 Neil Innes was still playing The Rutles' music live, but he died suddenly on 30th December. He is fondly remembered on social media for his work with The Bonzos on TV shows like Do Not Adjust Your Set and Rutland Weekend Television - even The Old Grey Whistle Test.  
Proof that his legend will live long after other living legends have died.

Neil Innes talks about Rutland Weekend Television and the genesis of The Rutles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxxyG9jJhm0

Ron Nasty and Barry Wom with The Rutles live in London, 2013
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoOwx3j4b_I

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See also on this site:

My Visit To Abbey Road Studios

The Beatles escape the madness of the road to create Revolver

Sgt. Pepper Is The Beatles - Who Knew?

At Home With The Lennons, 1967

A Night With John Lennon - The Fab Faux at Radio City Music Hall

Tribute to Little Feat's Paul Barrère

"Livin' the life, livin' the life, lovin' everyone"

Sad times for fans of Little Feat as news comes through that guitarist Paul Barrère passed away on Saturday, after a prolonged bout of liver cancer.

Paul was a mainstay of Little Feat from 1973 onwards, when he joined the band in its second incarnation, as they moved away from the folk rock style, to the more funk jazz style of albums like Feats Don't Fail Me Now and The Last Record Album.

As well as being a master guitar player, he was also a good songwriter, contributing several key compositions during Little Feat's classic period, including Skin It Back and All That You Dream. He also co-wrote Feats Don’t Fail Me Now and Romance Dance, among others.

In the band hiatus after Lowell George died in 1979, Paul had various solo band set ups, and penned one of my favourite song titles – If The Phone Don’t Ring (You Know It’s Me).

He kept busy between Little Feat's latter-day touring schedule by playing acoustic live shows with his guitar partner in Little Feat, Fred Tackett.

In 2015, he was diagnosed with liver cancer but managed to continue working while undergoing treatment right until this month, when he cancelled appearances on Little Feat's 50th Anniversary tour. At the time, he wrote:

"Dear Friends,

As many of you know, for the past several years I have been dealing with liver disease. When we finished the second leg of our 50th Anniversary tour, I was beginning to develop some edema, which has been making some things a little more difficult. It has been a bit of a roller coaster as I go through the treatments my medical team has prescribed, and I have had good days and not so good days. Lately, the not so good days have been more common. 

“I have met with my team at UCLA and they have told me that what I am experiencing is common and treatable. However, the timing is not ideal, as they have directed me to stay home in October while they fine-tune the treatment in order to get me back to where the good days are the norm.

“Needless to say I am beyond disappointed as I was really looking forward to the shows in October. This whole year has been a musical dream come true and none of it would have been possible if not for the enduring support of all of you, the Feat Fans!

“Fortunately, the shows will go on. I have no doubt the band is going to rise to the occasion. As a band, for over 50 years we have always had each other’s backs and I know they will continue to put on the best possible show each and every night. That’s the way we roll."

"My plan is to follow my doctor’s orders and sit tight, but I have every intention of getting back to Jamaica in January and rock’n on the beach with all of you. Until then, keep your sailin’ shoes close by… If I have my way, you’re going to need them!

"Very best wishes, Paul".

As news of his death came on Saturday, the band's official website posted this message:
https://www.littlefeat.net/news.html?n_id=3859&fbclid=IwAR38joBqW5bKGtFu-kqXC84toUFx5ekoOnVANKOyP_DHlAZGeEHmr9n6raA

The future of Little Feat would appear uncertain. The core members are now just founder member and bandleader Bill Payne, with Tackett, bassist Kenny Gradney and percussionist Sam Clayton. Payne has been on tour this year with The Doobie Brothers, who have been supporting Santana on their US tour dates.

Whatever happens, it's the end of an era, as Little Feat loses another of its key members and the voice for so many of their songs, since the loss of Lowell George.

Thanks for the music Paul.

Bill Payne has posted a very personal statement about Paul on his Facebook page, which I've pasted here as it's well worth reading:

The Fierce Terrain: A Friendship and Alliance

I will leave it to others to memorialize, to exalt into the heavens someone who wouldn’t have wanted it. Paul Barrere was my band mate, my friend, someone I leaned on and occasionally pushed away. We spent a good measure of our lives engaged in the art of making and playing music with a band that could have only been conjured in a dream. But it was all too real. Little Feat was the one thing that could collectively bring us all together for the purpose of creating something with purpose, our place of refuge and exploration, of comfort, of dismay, and of ultimately what Paul might have called Home Ground. 

I met Paul in the summer of 1969 at Lowell George’s rustic home, tucked a bit off Rowena Avenue in Los Feliz. The story of Paul auditioning to play bass with Little Feat is well documented, but what isn’t as evident, or wasn’t to me at the time, was just how well he played guitar. Three years later, following the recording of Sailin’ Shoes for Warner Brothers, Lowell alluded that he needed someone to take over some of the guitar duties in Little Feat. He wanted to concentrate more on playing slide—I thought he also wanted to spend more time writing, and having another person in the band might give him more freedom to pursue that and other avenues. Richie Hayward told me about a warehouse in downtown L.A. where Paul would be performing and that we should check him out. 

That evening Paul Barrere was tearing up the stage with some remarkably aggressive riffs on the guitar. He had a command of the blues that floored me. Richie and I took one look at each other and smiled. Little Feat is shrouded in myth, of course, so there were many roads and scenarios as to how Paul joined the band, and given how life works, they all probably aligned with his becoming the second guitarist. Myth gives way to reality, though, and it wasn’t merely a matter of keeping Lowell happy; Richie and I had to embrace whomever came in, as well. Paul more than exceeded our standards. It was obvious to us he should be in Little Feat. Paul felt the same way.

The miles upon miles and time warps that envelop 50 years of knowing someone, the sharing of life’s fortunes and missteps, is what brought me to a convulsion of tears following the second to the last show of our 50th Anniversary tour, October 26, 2019. Leaving yet another hotel—I had been away from home for three months—I saw my friend and manager Cameron Sears standing outside the bus. 
 After putting my luggage in the bay, I came back around to ask if he had any news on Paul. He solemnly told me Paul had passed away at 1:15 that morning. I had been dreading the news ever since he had had to cancel coming out on what would be the last leg of the tour. 

The cliché that our lives pass before our eyes before we die might hold some truth, but I can tell you that Paul’s passing left me with a kaleidoscopic montage of his and my life, interrupted, by life unfolding in real-time. Images of Paul and I breaking down in tears after the tribute gig to Lowell at the Forum in Los Angeles; surfing with Bert Toulotte on the East Coast; playing golf in Essen, Germany, with older club members and their Lolita-like caddies; taping a jam at our rehearsal room near Cahuenga and Barham, where we somehow spontaneously and simultaneously played a series of licks that came out of the ether, accompanied by our looks of utter disbelief as to just how we had accomplished that, while much later inserting them into what became “Day At the Dog Races”; the drive to his house discussing putting Little Feat back together in 1986, resulting in Let It Roll in 1988; plans and more plans; one of our last calls about his health, his concerns for everyone in the band and his hopes for rejoining us again at some point.

The fierce terrain we were enjoined in over these 50 years was reflected in our music, in our journey, and in our understanding that none of it would be easy. Honesty is not always benign, but it is necessary if you are to be truthful to yourself and others. That honesty translates into the songs we wrote, which is why they resonate with so many people. Paul touched many hearts and minds by sharing the gifts he possessed. 

We have the songs, his voice and all the inflections he commanded, his incredible musical sense as a player, whether playing a searing and soaring slide part or a gentle acoustic guitar. He was a master at rhythm and creating stellar parts to songs of almost any genre. I still can hear the laughter in his voice, still feel the reverberations over misunderstandings, along with knowing that throughout it all we were brothers. I know well the intensity of who he was as a musician, as a man, and I honor that.

My tears are of sadness, both for him and for those of us that knew him, that loved him and that carry him in our hearts.

The souls circle the sun
They play with the moon
Live amongst the stars
Their reflections on the river
Are gifts to your heart
from Bill’s River Blues

Bill Payne, Montana, October 29, 2019

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See also on this blog: When Lowell George Was The Future Of Rock n Roll
https://bangnzdrum.blogspot.com/2012/06/when-lowell-george-was-future-of-rock-n.html

Frank Zappa and Lowell George together
http://bangnzdrum.blogspot.com/2012/08/frank-zappa-and-lowell-george-together.html

Automatic Man - they could have been huge

File this one under ‘Buried Treasure’. In 1976 I bought an album called Automatic Man, having been drawn in by their single My Pearl and in the knowledge that the band included one of my favourite drummers, Michael Shrieve, formerly of Santana.

It’s an oddity for sure, with its mixture of funk, rock guitar and cosmic lyrics. It still sounds great today though. I heard one of the tracks played over the PA at a large festival, so I figure there must be a few people out there who think the same way.

Mike Shrieve was already a big name from Santana

How did this cosmic funk prog band come to be? When Mike Shrieve left Santana in 1975, he was keen to develop a new band project and so got together with guitarist Pat Thrall and jazz keyboard player Todd Cochran, also known as Bayete.

Shrieve met Thrall when he collaborated with Steve Winwood and the Japanese percussionist Stomu Yamashta on the ‘Go’ albums. Bayete, an established recording artist in the jazz field, had the songwriting skills, and it was his influence that would prove to be the greatest in terms of the band’s direction. The fourth member of the band was bassist Doni Harvey.

They were signed by Island Records and moved from San Francisco to London, for sessions at Olympic Studios in Barnes with engineer Keith Harwood.

The result was a collection of songs high on melody and set to a background of synthesiser swirls, wild guitar solos and with Shrieve’s dramatic flourishes propelling the whole thing. The balance of the rock and funk elements was pitched just right, making the album accessible and appealing, potentially, to a wide audience. It certainly deserved more recognition than it gained.

The problems came when they tried to reproduce it live. Automatic Man played in Europe and the US in 1976, but by all accounts they struggled to capture the magic of the album. Since much of its dynamic was due to the layered synth lines and the various effects applied to the guitar and drums, it’s easy to see how they might have found it hard to reproduce.

Expectations had been high though; the record was good and the album artwork had been expensive to produce, so Island were looking to recoup. But the single only just scraped into the top 100 and the album failed to capture a wide enough audience. I suppose the music didn't fit with rock radio or the R'n'B stations.

The band, minus Shrieve, moved back to the US. Bayete and Thrall recruited a new rhythm section and recorded a second album, Visitors, which lacked the panache of the first album. Shrieve was the big name in the band and without his distinctive drumming style, there was even less interest in the second album. Automatic Man disbanded in 1978.

Mike Shrieve said: “I put a lot into Automatic Man. We had great players, Pat Thrall on guitar, Bayete, a genius on keyboards, David Rice on bass at first, then Doni Harvey. We rehearsed every single day at my house in San Francisco. I bought instruments for everybody, my girlfriend at the time, Maria Ysmael, cooked wonderful dinners every single night.

"We moved to London to do the record, which we were really excited about. We just couldn’t seem to get it together live, though. We had a falling out and the rest of the band moved to LA and made another record without me, and that was that.”

Todd Cochran's career continued to thrive as he wrote and performed with artists including Aretha Franklin and Peter Gabriel. Pat Thrall went on to work in the fusion field with musicians including Narada Michael Walden and Alphonso Johnson. He joined the Pat Travers Band and later worked with Glenn Hughes.

Doni Harvey continued to play sessions and for a time was a member of the fusion band Nova. I saw Nova play a support slot at the Hammersmith Odeon around 1978. Harvey obviously modelled himself on Jimi (right down to the spelling of his name – and see back cover photo of Automatic Man) and on this night he was pulling all the Jimi shapes and moves. It was remarkable but also faintly ridiculous.

In 2004, a remastered version of Automatic Man was released by Lemon Records. Tom Karr of Progressive World gave the disc a five star rating in his review:  "People have a strong desire, an urge, to categorise things, to put them in boxes. In the sense of Automatic Man fitting into a pre-conceived sub-genre of progressive rock, then no, they are not a prog band.

"But they are much, much more than any label given them could describe. This San Francisco band had strong elements of spacey synthesizer driven progressive. Definitely. They could just as well be described as a hard rocking funk band as well. Both are true. Neither is accurate. No group I can think of so defies categorisation as does Automatic Man."

I’ll stick with Cosmic Funk Prog.

The track 'Geni-Geni' from the album Automatic Man, 1976

IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, PLEASE HIT THE FOLLOW BUTTON ON THE SIDE PANEL THANKS

Also on this blog:

2-Tone and possibly my best gig ever

Queen's 1976 Free Concert in Hyde Park

Memories of the Reading Festival, 1975

Five Days of High Drama at the Isle of Wight, 1970

From Pinner to LA - Elton's Big Breakthrough, 1970

My Woodstock 50th Anniversary Diary

A Wizard, A True Star - my all-time favourite album

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan's Artistic Peak in the 1960s

 Joni Mitchell - The Hissing of Summer Lawns

'A Wizard, A True Star' - my all-time favourite record

I love this record. For me, it's the greatest album ever made.

I bought Todd Rundgren's 'A Wizard, A True Star' in 1974 - it was the record that awakened my sense of musical wonder. Although it is now 50 years old, it still sounds, as the author Barney Hoskyns put it: "more bravely futuristic than any ostensibly cutting-edge electro-pop being made in the 21st Century." 

A Wizard, A True Star was a single album that had more musical ideas on it than many artists could muster in a whole career. It ranges across a variety of styles, reflecting a precocious talent channelling everything from The Beatles and Laura Nyro to glam rock, classic soul and Jimi Hendrix.

I came to know Todd Rundgren via the single I Saw The Light, which was a radio play hit in the UK, with its catchy piano melody and George Harrison-like guitar solo.

I decided I wanted to investigate further. I remember being in a record shop in the West End of London, looking up at the albums on display. I don't remember what the price difference was (probably only about 50p) but I couldn’t afford Something / Anything, the album that contained I Saw The Light,  because it was a double. Todd's follow-up album was also on sale and I was attracted to its kaleidoscopic cover.

Having gained an audience for his singer/songwriter-style songs
like 'Hello It's Me', Todd got weird on their asses

So I bought that instead. It’s fair to say the record blew my mind.

From the opening fuzz tones of ‘International Feel’, it was clear that 'A Wizard, A True Star' wasn't going to sound anything like 'I Saw The Light'.  This was exciting though; I had something none of my friends had. My musical universe was about to expand.

I was 15 at the time, a suburban kid eager for just this kind of adventure. If a record can be life changing, this was it.

That first side has 12 tracks on it; it's like watching a fast action cartoon. Todd's influences are all over the shop but if you can keep up with the stylistic shifts and the slightly crazed delivery, it's a wild ride.

The mood and style of side two is in marked contrast; Todd takes a more measured approach, with the middle of the side devoted to his soul medley.

Rolling Stone magazine's review considered the soul medley to be "the highlight of the record, in which Todd plays tribute to the Impressions, the Miracles, the Delphonics and the Capitols. 

"The first three selections, 'I'm So Proud', 'Ooh Baby Baby' and 'La La Means I Love You', feature Rundgren's plaintive singing that conveys a feeling of a kid vocalizing along with the originals late at night, fantasising about crooning to his dream girl," said the review. "The lovely synthesizer and harpsichord arrangements reveal Todd's respect for Stevie Wonder's recent recordings."

Unlike side one, where the tracks come thick and fast, on side two each track is a given the chance to soar. The songs still seque into each other, but do so beautifully, particularly towards the end, as the fuzz guitar of ‘Hungry for Love’ tails off to the solo piano of ‘I Don’t Want To Tie You Down’ which in turn echoes away into the guitar frenzy of ‘Is It My Name’.

The album ends with the majestic ‘Just One Victory’, the national anthem of Utopia as Todd called it.

It's a trip - in less than an hour you've heard a whole world of music. 

John Siomos, Ralph Shuckett, John Siegler & Moogy Klingman
the core band members, at Secret Sound recording AWATS

Rundgren has always made it clear this album was not a solo performance, like much of Something/Anything, where he played all the instruments on three sides of that album.

'Wizard' was recorded at Secret Sound, a small  studio created in a loft apartment in New York that was rented by Todd's keyboard playing friend Mark 'Moogy' Klingman.

Secret Sound was really Todd's creation, said Moogy. He did all the wiring and the equipment installation himself. "That studio was really put together with band aids and bubble gum. It just barely held together.”

A Wizard, A True Star was one of the very first things they recorded at Secret Sound. In Paul Myers' book about Todd's recording sessions in the 1970s, Moogy recalls, "One day Todd said ‘Okay I’m gonna start recording'. He was in the room by himself and he laid down the bass part to “International Feel” and then he started adding on to it. I said wow he’s making some really weird noisy sounds. 

Todd at Sunset Sound

"Then he was overdubbing and it started to sound like something and he said 'OK Moogy, I want you to bring your band in and we're gonna do the track. One of the first tracks we did was 'Toot Toot Tootsie Goodbye' but he’d changed it to 'Da Da Dali'.

"We spent the next month or so recording A Wizard, A True Star with Todd as the sole engineer. We didn’t even have an assistant to just watch the levels and bring things down a bit. But that’s how he liked to work. He was a solo guy, he was a hermit nerd.”

Todd's new girlfriend Bebe Buell is sitting on the sofa at the back

The list of session musicians on AWATS includes the Brecker Brothers, Rick Derringer and David Sanborn. Moogy was responsible for bringing in all the musicians, using second keyboard player Ralph Shuckett, bassist John Siegler and drummer John Siomos as the core band. The contribution of Siomos (who later played on Frampton Comes Alive) is notable as he provides the solid groove and highly distinctive snare and tom-tom fills for much of the album’s more soulful and rocked-out moments.

Because he had crammed so much on the record, Todd urged the listener to crank up their stereo to get the full effect. In fact he suggested people tape the record and then crank it up, to avoid having the stylus jump off the vinyl.

The inside gatefold

First issues of the vinyl LP in the US were die-cut, giving the record sleeve an odd shape, and psychedelic images on both sides of the gatefold cover. I have an early US pressing and I have to say the sound is superior to my UK copy. There's more detail audible and you really get a sense of how amazing the mix is, considering the amount of instrumentation and studio effects.

The original album package also included a ‘band aid’ poem written by Todd’s friend Patti Smith, as well as a postcard encouraging purchasers to send their name to be included on a poster, which was given away with Todd's next album.

Patti Smith's beat prose inspired review of 'A Wizard, A True Star' for Creem Magazine in April 1973, described the album as "Rock and roll for the skull. A very noble concept. Past present and tomorrow in one glance. Understanding through musical sensation. Todd Rundgren is preparing us for a generation of frenzied children who will dream in animation."

inner sleeve side one

inner sleeve side two

By the time he came to record 'A Wizard, A True Star', Todd had tasted success with the hit singles Hello It's Me and I Saw The Light. But he set the template for the rest of his career, by not giving the fans or the record company more of the same.  

A Wizard, A True Star was his take on psychedelia, with a dash of rock and soul. And despite all the indulgence, it worked.

That wasn't always the case with Todd; he went on to make some other really good records, but he confounded expectations at every turn, which his fans learned to tolerate, or not.

Glam'd up in '73, playing Clapton's SG

Even in those early days, just before he made AWATS, an appearance on the US music show Midnight Special playing Hello It's Me had his PR advisers tearing their hair out. Todd appeared in full Glam Rock style, with elaborate face make-up and multi-coloured hair. You don't have to camp around, indeed. Commercial suicide, it was the first indication that Todd wouldn't be playing the game the way they wanted. 

On this swing to the left, Todd said: "I threw out all the rules of record making and decided I would try to imprint the chaos in my head onto a record without trying to clean it up for everyone else's benefit. The result was a complete loss of about half of my audience. This became the model for my life after that."

If he'd stuck to releasing just the pretty love songs, he would have been a superstar, no doubt about it. But after AWATS, for every A Dream Goes On Forever, there was a piece of self-indulgent primitive synth bollocks. I still enjoy listening to his 70s albums, skipping the odd track that, even then, was annoyingly indulgent on his part. There have been times when he has unfuriated me in a live situation - ignoring his considerable body of work to play an extended version of Peter Gunn on the 'Liars' tour, for example. It's never been easy being a TR fan, and he is unapologetic about that.  

A Wizard, A True Star, though, is the high point of a prolific musical journey.

The following links include some rare footage from the 1970s and some more recent clips, including some good quality film of the performance of AWATS 10 years ago.

1974 low-fi film of Todd and the AWATS band, playing material from the album including Just One Victory.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8gpABtL7sk&fbclid=IwAR26QUOjPxSzryBZTl8vp2-UWuWySGey7aOIljBDUmSSSRVyCNZpCs2-DbY

Here's video of Todd appearing on the Daryl's House show, singing Sometimes I Don't Know What To Feel

And here, as part of the 2009 AWATS shows, he performs I Don't Want To Tie You Down

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Also on this blog:

2-Tone and possibly my best gig ever

Queen's 1976 Free Concert in Hyde Park

Memories of the Reading Festival, 1975

Five Days of High Drama at the Isle of Wight, 1970

From Pinner to LA - Elton's Big Breakthrough, 1970

My Woodstock 50th Anniversary Diary

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan's Artistic Peak in the 1960s

 Joni Mitchell - The Hissing of Summer Lawns