One Album Wonders: A Cross, A Ross, And An All Around Wonderful Record

The British music scene in the early 70s had an interestingly active group of bands that were trying to mimic the sounds that came splashing over the ocean to their shores. More precisely, the sounds that had travelled across the U.S. mainland before going on a transatlantic journey. The sounds of the westcoast. Bands like Brinsley Schwartz were shamelessly mimicking Crosby, Stills & Nash, while the Jess Roden-led Bronco or Hookfoot were trying their own spin on So Cal country rock. And then there were these two blokes, Keith Cross and Peter Ross, two songwriters who briefly teamed up to make one of the most Westcoast-sounding albums of all time. Oh, and also one of the best. Bored Civilians is the sun-kissed place where the influences of The Byrds, and The Beach Boys meet, and ir's glorious. Not bad for two Brits. 

Just take the album opener and instant classic "The Last Ocean Rider". Almost seven minute of pure bliss. The song itself is over by the three an a half minute mark, the rest is a long vamping section that I normally would look at suspiciously at the very least, but this is the equivalent of Martin Scorsese's "it's a quick three hour movie" (guess the picture he said it about!), it doesn't feel like seven minutes while you bathe in that warm ocean coda. There is a spirited cover of Fairport Convention side project Fotheringay's "Peace In The End", which is the only outside number, with the rest of the songs written by either Cross or Ross, and original closer "Fly Home" a co-write. 

I probably prefer Peter Ross' contributions, even though Ross was a bit of the junior member of the association. Not age-wise, but Keith Cross had already played in short-lived prog rock groups Bulldog Breed and T2, and was a bit of a name, at least to insiders. Besides "The Last Ocean Rider", Ross ' other highlights include the catchy "The Dead Salute" (which sounds like it could have been a single) and the atmospheric b-sides "Blind Willie Johnson" and "Prophets Finders". Keith Cross seems more responsible for the slower songs and ballad side of things, though he does get a little bit funky on the lengthy "Story To A Friend". That last track, together with "Rider" and the equally lengthy "Fly Home" plus Cross' past work is no doubt responsible for this album still being lumped in with progressive rock (or prog folk, more precisely), and while I don't find anything overtly proggish in it, besides these extended instrumental sections, the labeling doesn't matter, though it might have mattered back in 1972. 

And it might have mattered, because artwork and promotion for this album were..., let's say, suboptimal. The original cover for Bored Ciivilians is a great shot by itself, it just isn't very representative of the album and doesn't represent the sunny sounds within at all. It's a great cover shot, but for the wrong album. The new cover art is based on a pastel painting (ha!) by Australian artist Tricia Reust. CD back cover art is included for CD folks like myself! While the cover shot was great but ill-fitting, I never liked the original album title. Bored Civilians? Who is that supposed to entice to pick this up? I don't know if the newly christened Pastels would have sold more copies, but it is an improvement I'd say. It's certainly more indicative of the great music within. 

I love this image, but it sucks at selling the music within properly...

Changes, however, aren't limited to packaging. I thought the sequencing left room for improvement. I didn't like the eleven minute "Story To a Friend" taking up so much space in the middle and slowing it down. This track, rather then a closer for side a seemed destined to be the long run-out groove at the end of the record, which is where I placed it. And I thought that the three non-album songs "Can You Believe It", "Blind Willie Johnson" and "Prophets Guiders" were so strong, that they deserved to be included in the album proper instead of being merely attached as bonus tracks extra limbs, so that's what I did. The latter two songs, both b-sides and both by Peter Ross, are interesting in that the vocals are quite a bit grittier than the conventionally beautiful leads on the album, on "Prophets Guiders" Ross does sound a faint bit like Mercury-era folk rock Rod Stewart. 

Mixing in these three extra songs means that this alt album version of Bored Civilians breaks a little bit with one of the principles I have maintained on my alt albums from yesteryear, namely respecting the vinyl limits of the time to have an authentic record as it could have come out at the time of release. So most of my alt albums clock in between 35 and 45 minutes, as they would or could have at the same time. But, seriously, who cares about fake historical possibility when it's about the music, right? So you get a vinyl recording-limit spraining 55 minutes of fabulous music by Cross and Ross, time-period authenticity be damned! At least I don't leave no damn tracks off for no damn reason! 

Seriously, how hard could it be, though, to collect all the songs of this glorious, but brief collaboration? Really fuckin' hard it seems, because throughout two re-issues they couldn't get it done. The original 1994 re-issue had an extra single, a-side "Can You Believe It" and b-side "Blind Willie Johnson", but somehow failed to include the b-side to lead single "Peace In The End", "Prophets Guiders". For years I could only unearth a crackly period version of it that sounded so much worse in terms of fidelity compared to the rest, that I had no choice but to attach it at the end, sort of as a quick encore, after Cross and Ross have finished their album 'set' with "Story To a Friend". Then, when Esoteric Recordings reissued it 20 years later, it had "Prophets Guiders", but now "Can You Believe It" was missing. Are you kidding me? Specialist re-issue companies and they can not manage to include everything their core audience want from such a release? Hell, Cross and Ross only recorded these twelve songs, so why the fuck are they not all here from the start, remastered and presented as they should? So now sites like this one have to do the job 'cause these doofuses can't get their shit together...(Gee, I curse a lot here, huh? This needless idiocy and avoidable treasure hunting seemingly really goats my get, if you drift my catch...). 

But now all our imaginary pain over these botches is over, as I'm proud to present what I think is the best way to hear the entire output of Cross & Ross. New artwork, new and improved sequencing, all tracks presented and accounted for. What more can you ask for? More music from these two, obviously, but it wasn't to be. After Bored Civilins bombed, both seems to have walked away from the music business, as Discogs has no rntries for them whatsoever after this album. But what a glorious one-shot it is! Cross & Ross might've only worked together for a small amount of time, but Pastels is proof that when you hit the bull's eye right away, sometimes once can be enough...

(N)One Album Wonders: Inlaws, Outlaws And Terry Dolan

The music industry, man. Sometimes you just don't get it. No, strike that, most of the times you don't get it. And that's me talking about the old music business, not the streaming-based, 'millions of streams will buy me a box of Pringles, so I'll shell out these mega deluxe editions and special VIP concert tickets for a couple of hundred bucks' system of today. Whatever goes into calculations, into their prognostics, and margin calculations, and spreadsheets, about - as Bob Seger sang "what to leave in, what to leave out", but when the music gets left lying in the dirt, and it's great music, then all this calculatin' really don't end up. 

No one is entirely sure as to why exactly Terry Dolan's (presumably) self-titled album never got released in its day. Some think it's because in demand pianist and Rolling Stones sideman-cum-producer Nicky Hopkins abandoned the sessions halfway through, some because Warner Brothers were cleaning house...but no one knows for sure. The whole story gets told in details in the booklet included with our One Buck Record of the day, so I'll just say this: Whoever took that decision was a total idiot (cue GOB-voice: "I think I've made a huge mistake"). Sometimes records get buried, that aren't a huge loss. Some, as Terry Dolan's, were a huge loss. But what really gets me is that here Warner Brothers had a finished record, with a song that was almost certainly going to be a hit...and yet they let it all go away.

But let's rewind a little bit. And say a word or two about who the hell Terry Dolan is (the bootleg accompanying the album explains all of this in huge detail). If you are from the Bay area, you've probably heard of Terry Dolan, at least through his group Terry & The Pirates, the ultimate bar band. If you haven't, well, Dolan started as a folkie who, as he'd sing in his signature song "Inlaws And Outlaws" "came out from the East Coast", trading the Washington D.C. folk scene for that of San Francisco in 1965, then becoming known as a guy who played too hard and rock'n'roll for a folkie and too soft for a rock'n'roller. Hanging out with Greg Douglass, fuitar player for Country Weather, made him switch from acoustic to electric guitar. In 1970 he asked new Bay era resident Nicky Hopkins to produce a two-song demo tape, that included"Inlaws And Outlaws" and "Angie", a ballad written for his wife, both of which figure of course on the One Buck Record of the day. 

The story of "Inlaws And Outlaws" is as fascinating as it is frustrating: The hit that wasn't a record, and then never would be. DJs, first at San Fran's K-SAN and KMPX would play the demo tape version of the song, which became an airplay hit that even began to spread throughout the U.S., but callers enquiring about the song were disappointed, as there was no official single yet. An album with Warner Brothers was negotiated, with the understanding that Hopkins would again produce. In January 1972 Dolan, Hopkins and a hand-picked band of all-star Bay area pickers (including Douglass, Steve Miller Band-bass player Lonnie Turner, and of course John Cippolina, who had already contributed to the demo tape) Wally Heider's San Fran studios and started working on the album, recording what would become side one of Terry Dolan. 

These numbers live up to the 'folk rock'n'roller' reputation of Dolan, with crunchy guitars aplenty, and Hopkins especially piling on the multi tracks and flourishes in his part of the record. The Pointer Sisters, still months away from issuing their debut album, add lavish background vocals. Hopkins himself cheekily inserts a very Stones-ian melody about two and a half minutes into opening number "See What Your Love Can Do", a gospel-rave up. "Angie", the ode to his wife is followed by another guitar-based uptempo number, "Rainbow", before side a ends with what should have been Dolan's classic hit that we still hear on classic rock radio to this day. Quality work all around, and then disaster struck. With only these four finished tracks in the can, Hopkins was called up by The Rolling Stones to do overdubs on Exile On Main Street, then leave for a U.S. tour, then immediately go back to the studio to work on Goat's Head Soup. All of a sudden, Dolan's album was without a producer. 

After a break of almost six months, sessions restarted with Pete Sears as producer (and bass, piano, and keyboard player), who drafted in Neal Schon, right in between leeaving Santana and founding Journey, who shredded like crazy on "Purple An Blonde..?" and "Burgundy Blues", the two heaviest tracks on the Sears-produced second album side, while a cover of J.J. Cale's "Magnolia" and "To Be For You (a pure Sears/ Dolan collaboration) were more melodic. With the album finished, photos for the artwork were shot by Herb Greene, the record got a catalogue number, labels and test pressings. Warner Brothers created a bio for Dolan and a write-up, and then - cancelled the record, as well as summarily dropping Dolan from the label. What should have been - on the strength of "Inlaws And Outlaws" alone - if not a hit, then a more than decent debut by a major talent, turned into a great mess of frustration for Dolan and all the involved players and friends, musical and otherwise.  

Reasons for this suden and seemingy inexplicable cancellation abound, but answers aren't easy to come by. Just the sad fact remains, that a great record was shelved and then forgotten about for more than forty years, and by the time Terry Dolan's solo debut album finally came out in 2016, its author was dead, dying in 2012 of heart failure. He had seen the beginning of the campaign to finally get Terry Dolan issued, but wouldn't live to see it arrive in record stores. 

Why and how was he deprived of seeing the results of those sessions proudly as a finished record? And how many people were deprived of driving down the highway with a window rolled down, fist in the air and loudly proclaiming "Living! My Life! Free!"? Well, way too many. The sad story of how Warner Brothers fucked up, and would so again with Bob Carpenter shortly after, despite its reputation in the 70s as an 'artists first' label, reminds me of the mess they are right now, especially its movie division. You might have heard about a fella named David Zaslav who hates audiences and artists and movies and would rather turn an almost finished or finished film on which hundreds of people worked into a line in a spread sheet for a tax write-off. Big entertainment companies - music, film, TV, it doesn't matter - of course always cared about the dollar first and the artists second, but a company like Warner Brothers who always had a good reputation as being welcoming to artists, has now left that reputation in tatters. 

Oh well. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but this album sounded great in 1972 when it should have come out, and it sounds great now. A couple of weeks ago, over at Babs' place, she asked about what everyone's favorite unreleased music was. Well, this is mine. Just a top notch 70s album, halfway between folk and a rollicking Rolling Stones record. This album is a killer, and I'm happy, if a couple of you will discover it. 

One Album Wonders: Try Some Cayenne, It's Good Stuff...

It's been a while since we've been in the world of the one album wonders, time to get back and do it in the way old school One Buck Heads like C in Cali know me with my rootsy proclivities to go: the country rock route, obviously!

Cayenne were a country rock group from the Bay area, gigging and occasionally recording throghout the early 70s, mainly between 1973 and 1795. They finally took up a residency in McGowan's Wharf Tavern on San Fancisco's Fisherman's Wharf and finally self-released (via their label Bucksnort records) their eponymous and unfortunately only record. 

One of the issues was timing. The time it took for Cayenne to lay down these ten sides - noted on the sleeve as being a 'demo' rather than a 'master' recording, but sounding perfectly fin eand professionally recorded and engineered - the country rock boom was over. In 1973 the Eagles' eponymous debut came out, but by 1975 , when Cayenne finally came out, Henley & Co. were openly courting the disco crowd with "One Of These Nights" and had otherwise tried to move to a rock sound. Other presumably country rock outfits like Firefall were openly moving into soft rock. So, really, the fine but unassuming country rock of Cayenne didn't stand much of a chance of making a local, much less national splash. 

Cayenne follows the country rock model of having several songwriters and singers in its ranks: both guitar players John Salz and Clair Louis Hinton (who also adds banjo and harmonica)  as well as drummer Ajay Avery. Salz is the most active with half of the tracks here, while Avery has my favorite track with the bluegrass-styled "2 Months In Red Bluff". The sound reminds you of Poco or The Pure Prairie League or latter day Moby Grape on closing cut "Things Get Better". 

Before relistening to this for prepping the write-up I had also forgotten how crunchy the lead guitar can be, as on opener "Make Your Move". The track list had a tiny soft spot in the middle, so I did some resequencing for a better flow of Cayenne. 

This album won't change your life, and it isn't a hidden classic like George Law's selftitled album or Luke Gibson's Perfect Day But it is a damn fine album with all of country rock's hall marks like the close vocal harmonies that you associate with the genre. It sure as hell deserved better than selling a couple of copies via Jim's Used Record Store in San Fran and obviously not enough people sent their five bucks to Bucksnort Records to make Cayenne a continuing thing. 

But thankfully the internet never forgets, so let's pretend to go to Fisherman's Wharf in the early 70s and being attracted by some fine country rock coming out of one of its bars...

One Album Wonders: How many Buffalo did you say you've seen?

60 000 000 Buffalo weren't supposed to be one album wonders. Unlike some others in this series, they didn't struggle through self-publishing or difficult record company dealings. They were contracted for two albums by the mid-sized Atco label, but after completing Nevada Jukebox the band soon broke up afterwards. Which is a shame because lead singer Judy Roderick was an absolute powerhouse and Don Debacker on guitar was no slouch either. The group was in a friendly competition with fellow Colorado band Zephyr, whose lead singer Candy Givens - like Judy Roderick - somewhat recalled Janis Joplin. I'd say Roderick was less obviously imitating Joplin, and while Zephyr had its moments, I overall prefer the country-fried vibe of Nevada Jukebox. 

In many ways, 60 000 000 Buffalo are somewhat typical of a hippie band in 1972, freewheelin' while generally staying in a blues rock framework with some country influences mixed in as was the style of the day. "Lovely Ladies" with its slightly sludgy midtempo blues stomp is probably a good representation of their style, while "Denver Dame" does the same thing in a more relaxed register. "Canyon Persuasion" shows that Roderick is equally effective with a ballad, while Don Debacker gets a vocal cameo on the old timey country rag "Shake it & Break It". But the real highlights of the album are the lilting "Country Girl Again" and their turbo-charged cover of the traditional "Maid Of Constant Sorrow" which old time One Buck Heads might remember from all the way back on All Pearl, No Swine Vol. 2. 

This is a nice rock'n'roll'n'blues'n'country record from back in the day - nothing more, nothing less. But sometimes that is quite enough. 

One Album Wonders: The stoned'n'beautiful perfect day of Luke Gibson

A pastiche artist like Jonathan Wilson would give half an arm to sound as beautifully, beatifically stoned as Gibson does here, in a way only a 1970s record can. You can study the mannerisms and sound, but the feel of such a record is hard to duplicate. As it turns out, even for Mr. Gibson himself, who never got to record another album. That's a true shame, considering the quality of his single outing here. But hey, this also means that Gibson could not tarnish it with weak follow-ups, instead having his music frozen in time in 1972. "He's called it 'Another Perfect Day' and it is", says an ad from the time, and they're right. it really is. 

Dave "Luke" Gibson was a stalwart of the Toronto music scene, biding his time and learning his trade as a folkie in Toronto's Yorkville district, coming up slightly later than famed Yorkville luminaries Joni Mitchell, Neil Young and Gordon Lightfoot. It was of course also the epicentre of Toronto's hippie scene, and it's fair to say that Gibson was definitely a part of that. He co-founded electric blues band Luke & The Apostles in the mid-60s, remarked for their 1967 single "Been Burnt", but infighting had the band implode almost directly afterwards, especially since Gibson had an offer to join local psych rockers Kensington Market. He then reformed Luke & The Apostles in 1970 for another one-off single, then went solo.

Another Perfect Day came out, like Luke & The Apostles' 1970 outing, on True North records, but it was distributed by Columbia Records, so clearly there was some faith in Gibson's outing. But Another Perfect Day came and went, and when it did nothing Gibson left the music business altogether, to become a set painter in the film industry, before reuniting Luke & The Apostles in the 1990s. 

The basis of Luke Gibson's music here is folk, but not the warm, romantic type his countryman Lightfoot popularized. Gibson's folk, with hints of country in it, is fuzzier and earthier. What unites the men is their declaration of love for the nature around them, but where Lightfoot uses romanticized terms to create a Norman Rockwell-style depiction of Canada, Gibson depicts a less romantisized picture on songs such as "Lobo". "Hotel", a tale of a poor drifter trying his fortune in a new town becomes a tale of indifference towards the ill-fated in life. I am also particularly fond of the beautiful, bouncy "Full Moon Rider", a song that gave Gbson's publishing company its name. "All Day Rain", already featured on the very first All Pearls, No Swine, sounds like a stoned hangover, watching the day go by behind rainy windows. 

But really, Another Perfect Day is a fantastic album, top to bottom. Maybe not a perfect day, but a perfect 40 minutes to spend with some very fine music...

One Album Wonders: The legend of Lakota

It seems that in the 1970s, every third band dabbling in country rock was named after a Native American tribe, a Native American chief or something other Native American-related. Some of these bands were more improbable than others. Such as one of the handful of bands named Lakota, this one being built around the songwriting, playing and singing of J.W. Grimm (not related to the famous Grimm brothers, as far as I know). These guys were called Lakota, using Native American imagery and came from the dusty plains and rocky canyons of...Long Branch, New Jersey. Lakota was essentially a two-person band: Grimm on lead guitar and lead vocals and J.T. Callahan on drums, percussion and harmony vocals. For their one and only album in 1979 they picked up help from William Sleight on Bass and Chris Norden on rhythm guitar. Published on JBS Records, only a few hundred copies of this crept out at the time. 1979 was of course a time by which country rock was entiely passé, so a straggler like this didn't have a chance. But how wrong people were! 

Unknown or little known country rock records are a dime a dozen and most of them probably deserve to await in attics or one dollar bins. But sometimes you can pull a diamond in the rough from out of that pile of obscure bands with country leanings and Lakota's self-titled album is such a case. It's an excellent listen all the way through, something that a lot of his peers in the genre didn't manage. Grimm was a really solid songwriter and performer. He also liked to play some loud rock guitar, as Lakota definitely come down more on the rock side of the country rock equation. So, if you're not that big on pedal steel and such, but like crunchy guitar and Southern Rock, you should definitely check this out as well. 

Speaking of Southern Rock, Grimm gets a little indulgent on "J.W. Crier", an almost seven minute extended rock jam, but unlike a lot of peers, he actually has the chops to pull it off. I personally am not a huge fan of jams, but I can groove with J.W. to J.W. Whether it's a beautiful country ballad like "Walking In The Rain" or a mid-tempo round-up like "Simple Wave", Lakota offers a constantly good listen. Actually, most songs are kept mid-tempo, giving the album a friendly, almost folk-rock-ish sound at times, as exemplified by the fantastic "If I Wanted To". 

'Nuff said, as they used to say at Marvel. Get this album and play it, it is definitely worth checking out and becoming part of your rotation. New Jersey Injuns rockin' your (virtual) turntable! Who'd have thought?   

One Album Wonders: Cometh A Lawman!

Since we can never have enough series on this here blog, here's another one for y'all. One Album Wonders will look at artists who for a number of reasons - lack of success, music industry malfaisance, change of lifestyle, what have you - managed only a single album. But not only that, the Wonder part already gives it away: These albums are really good! They deserve to have follow-ups and being heard by thousands instead of the hundreds or handfuls that most of these managed! And we're gonna start with one of the all-time best One Album Wonders, the kind of album that makes it worthwhile to rummage through loads of obscure stuff of unknown quality. 

If you've never heard of George Law, then you're probably not alone. A singer-songwriter who toiled away in his home state of Alabama, his sole, eponymous album was issued twice, in 1977 and 1979, both times without success. His slightly goofy look, well captured on the album cover, maybe wasn't going to help sell millions? But what a marvel it is. I don't want to throw out superlatives here, because there's a chance that folks will go "Huh? What's the big deal here?", and of course it helps that the Lawman hits my personal sweet spot, landing right between some polished country rock and a singer-songwriter album. 

Discogs has this listed as soft rock, which I think is overexaggerated, and some sites list this album as Southern Rock, which is even more exaggerated. To be fair, there is a single song that fits that mold, and it is dutifully titled "Southern Fried Rock'n'Roll". It also exemplifies what I like about this album: There is nothing fancy or show-offy about it, and unlike some of his fellow Southerners, he isn't tempted to draw things out needlessly. There is a drawn-out instrumental section, but it starts one minute into the song and is over about 45 seconds later, and the whole song is done in less than two and a half minutes. Some people can listen to various versions of The Allman Brothers Band's "Mountain Jam", all coming in over or around half an hour. I am not one of these people. I'd rather listen to Law getting the whole Southern Rock thing out of his system in about 8% of that time. 

His real strength are the mid-tempo tracks though. Songs like "Montgomery Town", "Ridge Song" and "Madison" sound like old friends, and once you've heard them you'll never want to let them leave. Well, I don't. Not to mention that in between these and Steve Young's "Seven Bridges Road", Madison County starts to sound like the most beautiful place on earth. Law at times has a perfectly 70s cosmic cowboy thing going, getting metaphysical on tracks like "Tomorrow's Always Today" or "Shine Sunshine". Or, you know, maybe good ol' George was just a heavy stoner, after all he did name his label Bongwater Records. 

He is backed on the album by jazz-prog group Backwater, which includes producer Tom Nist. This might also explain the rich instrumentation, including flugelhorn, clavinet and electric organ. That is probably also one of the secrets to the beauty of this album: The warmth and richness of its sound, certainly unusual for a self-released, private press record. 

George Law really does sound like the best parts of your favorite 70s music, or at least, well, mine. "Martha's Song" sounds like Jackson Browne wrote and sings it, while on beautiful album closer "Shine Sunshine" he sounds a little like Jimmy Spheeris. Even the least memorable track on this album (my vote: "Clouded Mind") is never less than beautifully played and sung. But really, there are no losers here. All killer, no filler, as they like to say, and all that in half an hour. Short and sweet.

Listen to this, it'll be the best half hour you can spend on music, or almost. Trust uncle OBG on this, or even better, tell me what you think of Mr. Law in the comments!

And now, let Law ring throughout the land...