When it comes to curating a period specific, multi disc anthology – particularly covering the exciting, ever evolving sounds of the late 60s and early 70s – there are few that do the job anywhere near as well as Cherry Red Records and their family of associated labels. That said, it doesn’t initially feel as if ‘Feelin’ Alright?’ will be one of their better efforts. By kicking off with Deep Purple’s over-exposed ‘Hush’, reaching for Spencer Davis Group’s ‘I’m A Man’ in record time, presenting what feels like the hundredth compilation outing for Small Faces’ ‘Song of A Baker’, and having the first disc also play host to the titular track from Traffic – tracks that’ll need absolutely no introduction – there’s a strong feeling of deja vu.
However, with everything sequenced chronologically from 1968-1972, ‘Feelin’ Alright?’ is one of those sets that seems to get better as it progresses (no pun intended), and its foray into the archives of the early 70s throughout the third disc uncovers the kind of treats you’ll have come to expect from a set such as this.
‘Who Can I Trust?’ from the one and only album by Walrus (issued on the Deram label in 1970) captures the freewheeling spirit of the music scene perfectly. The track’s huge sounding horn section counters forceful sounding guit riffs with soul inspired fills, whilst insanely busy bass sounds work funk grooves beneath a blues rock workout. It’s like discovering a much rawer version of the Chicago Transit Authority, and had this not been hampered by a vocal that could most kindly be described as average at best – their frontman makes Pete Brown sound like Paul Rodgers – this might be considered a lost classic of the era. A similarly busy vibe cuts through ‘I Really Need A Friend’ by the largely unknown Norman Haines Band. The number blends blues, jazz and rock with a seamless style, and any vague similarities to the earliest Santana works are made stronger by a conga player (presented extremely highly in the mix) who sounds like he has three hands. For those who like a deep dive into early 70s rock, this is a must-hear. Better still is the live sounding ‘Solar Level’ by the Johnny Almond Music Machine, a short number that’s essentially a mod banger augmented by sassy horns. Sitting somewhere between beat group sounds and very melodic jazz, this shows off a superb band in under three minutes. The spaciousness between the instruments proves that less can be more, and this track sounds like the Middle Earth floor filler that never was.
For those keen to dip into the jazzier end of things, ‘Variations on Nanos’ by the often underrated Blodwyn Pig is worth seeking out – or, perhaps, revisiting if you’ve not heard it in a while. Mick Abrahams’s vocal is recognisable as the one that graced a couple of Tull tracks a couple of years earlier, even if the music here is far more adventurous than the ‘This Was’ LP ever dared to be. There are passages that sound like an extension of that album’s sound, notably driven by Mick’s guitar, but when the band cuts a little freer, jazz inflected basslines and flutes that sound like they’ve been inspired by Yuseef Lateef are really impressive. More of a tight jam than a song, this should remind people that BP were far more than just an offshoot of the Jethro Tull family tree. An earlier Blodwyn track, ‘Sing Me A Song That I Know’ isn’t quite as interesting – Mick’s booming voice doesn’t suit the arrangement anywhere near as well – but some great brass and a swing to a bluesy sound lend the music enough of a necessary lift to ensure the band sounds great throughout.
No dip into the jazzier archives of the early 70s would be complete without an Affinity tune, and whether approached as an introduction to the band or a reminder of their once hard to find Vertigo album, ‘I Am And So Are You’ is the perfect pick. The track’s jazz rock groove instantly conjures memories of Curved Air’s more melodic output, whilst the dominant brass could be drawn from the world of Curtis Mayfield. There’s a busy air that also pulls everything in line with the oft forgotten Stoneground too, and although such a melting pot could be a mess, Linda Hoyle’s soulful voice acts as a brilliant melodic core throughout; her slight jazz leanings hint at things to come from this band, but there’s always an ear on a great tune. In the closing moments, guitarist Mike Jopp emerges from the shadows and offers a brilliantly fierce bluesy solo showing how, for all of their arty pretensions, Affinity would also be a band capable of really rocking out when required.
East of Eden provide a full on jazz rock freakout with ‘Marcus Junior’, a number driven by Northern Soul inflected rhythms but dominated by a freewheeling soprano sax. Rhythmically, it’s another great number, but the increased fusion tendencies will likely make it a bit hard going for the jazz averse. Even so, it’s nice to hear something that isn’t ‘Jig A Jig’. Best known for their short tenure with King Crimson, McDonald & Giles bring one of this box set’s highlights with the track ‘Tomorrow’s People – The Children of Today’. This is a pleasing reminder of how their sole album (Island Records, 1970) is actually far more interesting that the much-lauded ‘In The Court of The Crimson King’. Featuring more heavy Latin rhythms (clearly a fashion with fusion bands from the era), some superb flute work from Ian McDonald and a great groove throughout, this just never gets old. The eponymously named McDonald & Giles album is a stone cold classic, and even hearing this out of context should make that fairly obvious.
In contrast to the likes of McDonald & Giles and Affinity, the busy blues rock of Fuzzy Duck feels rather more traditional. Nevertheless, ‘More Than I Am’ (taken from the band’s sole LP, issued in 1971) is home to a reasonably played guitar solo in the Hendrix mould and some solid bass work, even if the end result sometimes makes it obvious why this band aren’t always well remembered. Their playing is enthusiastic; their songwriting, largely forgettable. From such a fruitful era, there’s nothing to make Fuzzy Duck stand out. As a track on a compilation, this works just fine, however, and for the hardened crate digger, it’s worth noting that members of this band had previously been members of psychedelic flops Five Day Week Straw People, Andromeda, and the pre-Uriah Heep hard rock band Spice, which gives this a little more interest.
Another brilliant jam, ‘Cold Sweat’ by Clouds works a Hammond organ into an absolute frenzy whilst a tight rhythm section hammer through something that sounds like Santana’s ‘Soul Sacrifice’ in bigger boots. Even the addition of a vocal doesn’t derail a heady groove, and in terms of overall tightness, this band are hard to beat. On the basis of this track, they could’ve been huge, if only their record label had believed in them a little more, instead of ploughing all of their promotional interests into Jethro Tull. If this box set brings a few more ears to the Clouds fold and encourages 70s rock fans to dip into their trio of albums, then their inclusion here has been more than worthwhile. Those looking for something a little more punchy should get listening pleasure from Satisfaction’s ‘Call You Liar, Liar’, a number that first sounds like it’ll be a late 60s Who pastiche, but then turns into a rock-mod hybrid where the overdriven guitars are joined by uptempo horns (courtesy of Mike Cotton) which, at first, help this tune to be oddly danceable. Then, taking a blues based detour, some fine lead guitar harks back to a slightly older sound, which makes Cotton’s brass sound even stronger when the original riffs make their inevitable return. Although sometimes presenting more of a groove and a mood than a memorable track you’d sing forever more, this number suggests the short-lived jazz rock band are worthy of a re-appraisal.
There’s so much good stuff tucked away on the third disc of this set – Status Quo’s blues rocker ‘April, Spring, Summer and Wednesdays’ is arguably the least interesting selection, and as lovers of early Quo will know, it’s a bloody great tune – that the first two discs seem far more scattershot in terms of consistency. That isn’t to say you won’t find good sounds… The often overlooked Manfred Mann Chapter Three’s ‘One Way Glass’ (taken from their 1969 LP) applies a funk bass throughout, which set against neo-psychedelic vocals creates a strange mismatch. The track ultimately works, though, thanks to a huge brass section that plays a riff that sounds like something The Stones might’ve shared from around the same time. To stop this from becoming far too accessible you’ll also find the great riffs offset by an atonal jazz sax, just for a little extra oddness. It’s certainly a universe away from the likes of Mann’s earlier hits like ‘Doo Wah Diddy’, and all the better for it. A successor to The Action, Mighty Baby also present a large sounding funky bass throughout their ‘Egyptian Tomb’, and although the use of brass isn’t as smart as some of their peers, there’s a lot about this busy number that makes it a great bedfellow with the Manfred Mann track. It’s got a similar sense of adventure, and the use of loose harmony vocals, weird falsetto, and vague nods to jazz definitely sets it apart from a lot of the era’s bigger rock sounds.
Adopting more of a standard blues feel, Killing Floor’s ‘My Mind Can Ride Easy’ is a take on the old standard ‘In My Time of Dying’ driven by a huge fuzzy guitar and harmonica. Despite its chunky, trad sound in places – and a corker of a lead guitar break – its best moments are actually supplied by a horn section that takes on the confidence of something from a CCS recording, and from a rolling piano that drops in (all too briefly) along the way. For fans of great blues rock, this will supply a welcome twist on something familiar, before Rock Workshop derail everything with a bunch of weird noises at the beginning of ‘Born In The City’, a 1970 LP cut that manages to subsequently rescue itself with a massive R&B riff and sassy horns, before being subsequently wrecked by Alex Harvey bellowing with abandon. Naturally, Harvey’s fans will love this – and many will be thrilled to have this gracing a compilation such as this – but it’s definitely an acquired taste. It’s never a pleasant listen, but it’s still better than having ex-Move man Ace Kefford and his Stand mauling Graham Gouldman’s ‘For Your Love’, but it’s fair to say that the genuine misfires within this set are few. In terms of covers, it’s hard to beat compilation regulars Wynder K. Frog turning ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ into a pounding, mod-baiting floor filler, driven by aggressive organ and a tight rhythm section, or even experiencing Mott The Hoople taking ‘You Really Got Me’ and applying a heavier hand via some very 70s sounding proto-metal guitar work. Both of these might be tunes you’re a little tired of hearing in their original guise, but these covers prove that great songs really do live on.
Georgie Fame sounds absolutely superb on ‘Somebody Stole My Thunder’, a fuzz guitar dominated monster that finds the him punching against some superb brass and a very mod friendly rhythm. This is an absolutely huge tune; its kitchen sink production sounds like one of the late 60s most expensive affairs – shy of The Beatles holed up in the EMI Studios at Abbey Road doing endless overdubs on ‘Sgt. Pepper’, naturally – and will be a real ear opener for those who only associate Fame with his UK number 1 hits ‘Yeh Yeh’ (1964) and ‘The Ballad of Bonnie & Clyde’ (1967). For busy grooves and more mod-centric beats, The Lion Tamers’ ‘Speak Your Mind’ offers another semi-deep cut, and it’s a tune that’ll draw in lovers of organ, even if the end results feel somewhat workmanlike when heard decades on, whilst Curiosity Shoppe’s ‘Baby I Need You’ manages to drop a similar organ sound into something a little more intense, showing how quickly the scene had shifted its focus from beat groups to deep psychedelia within the space of a year. In terms of mod/psych crossovers, this isn’t the most melodic tune you’ll ever hear; it has a rather claustrophobic production sound which makes an uneasy chorus sound even more tossed off, but somewhere within the musical melee, there’s a great song trying to fight its way out. The rhythm section are solid; the organ work – in keeping with other cuts from the period – is pleasingly punchy, and even a somewhat limited vocal seems to suit the job in hand. It’ll take a few listens to really show its best side, but it’s clear why this previously had pride of place on Decca’s single disc compilation ‘The Psychedelic Scene’.
Perhaps one of this anthology’s biggest surprises comes from the inclusion of Love Affair, a band only ever really associated with their evergreen hit ‘Endless Love’.‘So Sorry’ couldn’t present an even more different sounding act if it tried. A semi bluesy number, it allows harmony vocals to flow in and out of strident beats; a rather hazy and very late 60s mood colours the track as if it were a leftover from the Stones’ ‘Let It Bleed’, and a sizeable guitar solo ensures that this is anything but throwaway pop, or AM radio filler. Another familiar name offering some unfamiliar wares, Blue Mink – best known for the anti-racist hit ‘Melting Pot’, now off limits due to racist language – deliver a great instrumental with the unfortunately named ‘Gidda Wadda Wobbie’, which plays sort of like a lighter version of something John Mayall might have buried on an album circa 1972, or Derek & The Dominos could have recorded as a studio jam. Needing no introduction, The Shadows sound really funky on ‘My Babe’, trading in some of Hank’s trademark twang for a dominant organ, making the number sound more like a mod club floor filler than a typical Shads hit. Much like the Wynder K. Frog track, this really benefits from being played at a reasonably loud volume, as does ‘Don’t Be Afraid’ from former Mayall sideman Keef Hartley, which fuses some bluesy swagger with a mod-friendly beat and jazz elements, on a tune where a loud-ish vocal is matched throughout by a pleasingly aggressive rhythm section. ‘Feelin’ Alright?’ features stronger tracks – and some bona fide classics – but when it comes to summing up this anthology’s main interests, this – along with the tunes by Blodwyn Pig, Affinity, and (to a lesser extent) The Shadows (surprisingly) – provides a hugely effective snapshot. It’s actually better than The Alan Bown tune, , a pair of undeniably good tracks by the legendary Terry Reid, and even the mighty Colosseum in that respect (all of which share some great tracks during this musical journey.)
By taking in rock, mod, bits of prog and afew things on the fringes of jazz, ‘Feelin’ Alright?’ has less of a focus than, say, Cherry Red’s ‘Crawling Up A Hill’ exploring the British blues boom, or even Strawberry’s own mod and soul themed sets (of which the first, ‘Halcyon Days’ should be considered essential listening), but with most of the material sharing an American sound, this broad selection of tunes ultimately works well enough. Even if the folks responsible have delivered sets in previous years that have felt just a little more coherent, there are enough decent tunes buried here, and for those willing to spend the time to seek them out, this three disc collection should deliver a more than reasonable amount of entertainment, despite its underwhelming start.
Buy the box set here.
May/June 2025