Between the release of The Beach Boys ‘Pet Sounds’ in May 1966 and the first Woodstock Festival in August 1969, the American rock and pop scenes went into overdrive. With the groundbreaking ‘God Only Knows’, Brian Wilson had shown how grand “pop” could be in the hands of a master; the birth of psychedelia meant that garage rock grew into something much bigger and more interesting than a selection bands churning out variants of ‘Louie Louie’, and the blues morphed into sprawling jams which birthed a generation of guitar heroes. A prolonged period of experimentation arguably reached its peak in 1968, with The Byrds releasing their last works with David Crosby (at least for a time), Moby Grape issuing a double LP (‘Wow/Grape Jam’), the arrival of Spirit’s debut (helmed by the fantastic ‘Fresh-Garbage’), The Velvet Underground’s ‘White Light/White Heat’ proving their Warhol overseen debut wasn’t just some arty fluke, and the Grateful Dead issuing their show piece ‘Dark Star’ as a single. Even Simon & Garfunkel got a little out there on their fourth LP ‘Bookends’, with their masterful folk-pop joined by the vaguely psychy ‘Punky’s Dilemma’, and feeling brave enough to include Art’s audio verité ‘Voices of Old People’ as a key album track.
In some ways, three discs of material is only just enough to scrape the surface of a great year, but Grapefruit Records make ‘Can’t Seem To Come Down: The American Sounds of 1968’ really count by eschewing some of the more typical “compilation fillers” in favour of a raft of lesser heard, independent sides which filled under-bought 7” singles back in the day.
Beyond a few obvious tracks by Dylan, The Byrds, The Velvet Underground, The Beach Boys and Love – all of which will be familiar to your average 60s compilation fiend – there are a truckload of great sounds here. An amazing cut, Things To Come’s ‘Come Alive’ features a prominent drum part that sounds like Nick Mason in the middle of ‘Saucerful of Secrets’ which is used to back a scary collection of noises including blues guitar drenched in echo, alongside ugly and funereal keys that make Ray Manzarek’s most ominous riffs sound like a Scott Joplin rag. It’s all counterbalanced by a wall of vocals featuring harmonies that could be culled from an old Love record. In fact, the more you play this tune, the more it sounds like a really weird Love off-cut, so it definitely deserves pride of place here. With an overuse of Farfisa organ and psych-tinged vocals, there’s something very European about Hearts and Flowers’ ‘Tin Angel’. Maybe its that everything plays like a slightly messy blend of 1967 Beatles, The Syn and early Moody Blues. It’s a little too long at over four minutes, but evokes the era really well with the help of drones, back-masked noise and marching rhythms. It’ll never replace the likes of Blossom Toes in your psych-y affections, but since it is rather more out there than the band’s usual Byrds-ish stock, it’s a welcome addition here the archives. It’ll also be a pleasure for many to be reminded that there was far more to Del Shannon than ‘Runaway’ – great as that is – and the haunting, heavily orchestrated ‘Silver Birch’ casts the singer in the vein of dark troubadour, as he works his way effortlessly through a number that sounds like an out-take from one of Scott Walker’s early solo albums.
Those looking for great 60s pop with a vaguely alternative feel should definitely check out ‘You Are Your Only Mystery’ by Columbus, Ohio’s The Baroque Monthly. A superbly jaunty number, the verse works a riff that sounds a hell of a lot like Shocking Blue’s ‘Venus’ (which wouldn’t be released until 1969) and couples that with a spirited vocal that balances a pop tone with a slight psych rock energy. It’s chorus ushers in slightly more of a garage pop quality and, eventually, an unexpected middle eight adds a world of woodwind that makes good on the band’s chosen moniker. This is a superb three minute workout that deserves to be a far better known recording. Taking a less than subtle approach, Ars Nova apply some very 60s guitar lines to a quirky baroque pop melody on ‘Fields of People’, and appear to wobble all over the place behind a booming vocal. At first, it sounds like two very different ideas welded together with a shaky hand, but the arrival of brass and choral vocals really helps to put the different strands in context. Far more tuneful, yet still feeling slightly off kilter, ‘Three Part Invention’ by The Phoenix Trolley opens with a vocal that mixes trad folk and dark choral tones. Like something where the vocals sound like a less wazzed Incredible String Band and the music edges towards the moodier end of Mellow Candle, it’s very “of its time”. It sounds sort of cool; but what is clear here, though, is that this was far more of an “idea” than a song designed with any durability in mind. Beyond the original refrain – which does sound rather smart, it has to be said, it has nowhere to go. It doesn’t make it a dud, but it’s hard to imagine these droning and repetitive sounds would ever become anyone’s favourite recording. In retrospect, it seems frankly bonkers that Capitol Records – home of The Beach Boys, Glen Campbell and The Band – would’ve entertained the idea of releasing this as a single at all.
Lemon Fog display a love of The Animals and Love on ‘Summer’. A number that juxtaposes friendly, sunny harmonies against a swirling and slightly sinister organ melody, much like the early Love recordings, there’s an unsettling feeling that runs through this recording that almost shares the strange paranoia of the era. Of course, there’s plenty to be found within it’s semi-busy arrangement that’ll strongly appeal to lovers of cult 60s sounds. Offering something a little more akin to a busy beat group, ‘Cowboys & Indians’ by October Country features some superbly twangy guitar driving a busy groove which works brilliantly in tandem with some relentless harmony vocals. Add a solid bassline and this becomes a tune that updates a mid 60s sound brilliantly for the psychedelic age, and there’s also a lot of merit to be found in ‘You’re In My Mind’ by Graf Zepplin [sic] which sounds like a weird happening featuring members of Jefferson Airplane and The Monkees. Even a recording that sounds like a stretched cassette can’t hide the shameless sixties sparkle and soft drugs haze of these two and a half minutes.
For those only familiar with The 1910 Fruitgum Company via their hit ‘Simon Says’, their mid tempo ‘(Poor Old) Mr. Jensen’ might come as a surprise. The militaristic drumming on the verse lends a sinister edge, and even the dense harmonies that fill the chorus (about a man who’s dead) don’t send out positive vibes. A well placed oboe gives the music a lift without elevating it to the band’s bubblegum infused norm, and overall, it’s more the kind of thing you’d expect from a particular sour Beach Boys album cut from around the same time. It seems like the bad vibes from the Viet Nam war were really taking their toll. Another pleasing addition to this set comes from The Children, whose ‘Maypole’ – a deep album track issued on the Cinema label in August ’68 – is a prime piece of late period psych, with a world of wavering keyboard sounds and back-masked oddness offset by a really accessible and cheery vocal. As you might expect, the juxtaposition of the two styles creates something strange, but oh, so sixties, ensuring it’s never anything less than brilliant. Also haunting, but in a different way, the opening of The Fallen Angels’ ‘I’ll Drive You From My Mind’ features a run of ascending and descending scales for full on creepiness, and doesn’t even waver once a moody vocal creeps in. The chorus introduces a noisy maraca and a world of studio trickery on the voice to reinforce the psych-y element, before the second half of the track overlays everything with a noisy farfisa organ and electric sitar, just in case this didn’t sound quite enough like a product of its time. Lovers of psychedelic deep cuts will certainly find much to like within these three minutes, especially as it sounds a little like something that might have fallen into the lap of John’s Children man Andy Ellison, had it originated in the UK.
Applying a sturdy groove, a fairly fast tempo and a whole world of fuzz, Velvet Haze sound ready to challenge The Monks on the pleasingly noisy ‘Last Day On Earth’, an absolute banger that’s guaranteed to entertain most garage rock aficionados, and Glad sound like a supercharged Monkees with extra guitars from late period Byrds on ‘Johnny Silver’s Ride’, another excellent 60s cut that wouldn’t normally be found on your average compilation. On the much rockier side of things, The Moving Sidewalks tear through The Beatles’ ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’ with the gusto of a furious blues band. With Hendrix-like bursts of guitar and heavy drumming throughout, and the pop melody replaced by a tempo shifting groove, it’s less than subtle, but it’s great to hear a pre-fame, pre-ZZ Top Billy Gibbons in full flight. [Trivia fans might be interested to know that this arrangement was reproduced by the Melvins for their 2018 cover, but played in a sludgier manner, so this recording is definitely loved by Buzz Osborne.]
On another of this set’s stand out tracks, The Human Beinz wheel out the fuzzy guitars and grand brass during the intro of ‘The Face’, hinting at a couple of key elements from ‘Tommy’ before the grandiose rock opera was foisted upon an unsuspecting world. Eventually, the track settles into an arrangement that sounds far more like a 60s beat group with some hefty boots, but even that results in something great. Opting for the downbeat, dark organs swirl throughout The Vectors’ ‘Paisley Haze’ setting up a piece that’s somewhere between very moody R&B and a proto-goth weirdness. Despite the vocal being more of a standard beat group variety, it’s clear The Doors have a lot to answer for here. As with some of the other tracks found in this collection, it’ll likely be greeted as a pleasing discovery rather than something destined to become an all time favourite.
Much less enjoyable, ‘You Can’t Erase A Mirror’ by Children of The Mushroom features some great blues guitar and jazz drums, but doesn’t really offer much to back that up. The main melody is maudlin at best, since the droning keys have none of the power of those from The Vectors or other similar Doors-inflected acts, and Jerry McMillen is a complete non singer, drawing long notes over a really miserable tune. Such doomy fare should probably be expected from a band with such a bleak name, but despite its relative rarity, this isn’t the sort of track you’d listen to more than a couple of times. Luckily, thanks to some fortunate sequencing, Diamond Rings quickly help any bad feelings to fade, with a very strong track. Their ‘Which End Is Up’ has a hint of Hendrix about it, but the number takes an unexpected turn into a janglier arrangement where the sunny pop of the era meets some rather taut garage rock. The vocal harmonies share a hint of Buffalo Springfield, and the guitar lines attack like The Seeds, but the track’s secret weapon is definitely the organ which holds everything together with broad, melodic strokes. Overall, it plays like a near perfect late 60s gem that’s every bit as good as the big names.
Elsewhere, the singularly monikered Mortimer captures a perfect 60s pop melody on the chorus of the celebratory ‘Dedicated Music Man’, but is unafraid to pair that with a very slightly odd verse that seems as if it wants to join the psych set but isn’t quite brave enough to make the jump. With a tight band and a bright sound, though, it’s great as it is. Despite a lot of chutzpah and someone deciding strings would improve things, The Little Boy Blues’ ‘Mr. Tripp Wouldn’t Listen’ never seems to rise beyond a noisy piece of freakbeat – it’s never terrible, but nor is it essential listening. The Hendrix inspired guitar playing that sits at the heart of The Savage Resurrection’s ‘Thing In E’ would be enough to make it hold up, but this half-forgotten side also features some absolutely terrific drumming and a raw melody that shows how things don’t need to be complex to work well. Granted, you’ll find several dozen other cuts from the late 60s that plough a similar garage blues furrow, but this nails the style with an effortless charm.
Often celebrated for being the band that gave Debbie Harry her musical start, it’s great to get (re-)acquainted with The Wind In The Willows, whose ‘Wheel of Changes’ offers a whole universe of dark folk harmonies and strange orchestration, adding a psychedelic twist to harmony driven sounds, and also be given a reminder of the superb West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, sounding like a twisted cousin of The Mamas & The Papas on ‘18 Is Over The Hill’. You’ll find more beat group sounds on The Truth’s ‘P.S’, before it morphs into something more interesting with the help of jazzy twist via the drums and a few blues drenched guitars, eventually creating a clattering freakout worthy of Zappa’s Mothers. It’s the sort of thing you might find playing over a party scene in a cult film from the era. There’s also a solid slab of R&B from 60s singer Brian Hyland with ‘Delilah’, an energetic, punchy number that contrasts soulful stabs of brass – worthy of an old Stax cut – with a chorus augmented by underwater vocals. It’s a world away from ‘Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny’, on a par with the early Phillip Goodhand-Tait recordings…and all the better for that.
More sounds that mix a beat group core with the kind of keyboards Ray Manzarek gleefully threw upon everything, ‘Lantern Gospel’ by The World Column is another overlooked gem. Despite often favouring mood over melody, there’s some great playing here, especially from the bass which counters the swirling darkness from the keys and the dour vocals with a solid, punchy rhythm which clearly stops everything being derailed by its own dreariness, while The Peppermint Trolley Company (what is it with trolleys?) ventures into a much lighter, hazy pop when their wonderfully harmonious ‘Trust’ shares a world of harpsichord sounds and parpy brass. With the kind of melody that sounds as if it belongs on a film soundtrack, this brilliantly orchestrated track is more than reminiscent of something penned by Margo Guryan, making it a must-hear. The Sandstone Lollypop are not quite as grand, but their knowingly wonky ‘Never Said’ is another fine slice of psych where strange keys contrast some lavish harmonies, and a warm guitar occasionally cuts through with a vaguely bluesy air. Despite the arrangement being a bit too chirpy, there’s plenty within the perfectly produced music that echoes the great Love, and with a Hendrix-ish solo used effectively to build to a climactic finish, it eventually becomes another worthy addition to this set.
It’s hard not to be impressed by an anthology that’s been brave enough to include the usually compilation-unfriendly Zappa/Mothers and Captain Beefheart alongside the likes of Buffalo Springfield and The Monkees as if that’s the most natural thing in the world, or a collection that has the potential to bring the blues based sounds of The Yellow Payges or the wazzed out ‘Oscillations’ by Silver Apples into people’s living rooms for the first time in years…or, indeed, ever. ‘Can’t Seem To Come Down’ offers a superb selection of bands and tracks, and is surprisingly consistent in terms of general listening. It isn’t perfect, but it’s a seventy nine track deep dive that’s every bit as interesting as Grapefruit’s previous ‘March of The Flower Children’ set and, in it’s own way, as vital as the much celebrated ‘Nuggets’. For fans of late 60s sounds this is definitely a highly recommended purchase.
By the box set here.
June/July 2024