Category Archives: 70s

THE GARY MOORE BAND – Grinding Stone

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After the breakup of Irish power trio Skid Row (not to be confused with the popular US band) in the early 70s, Gary Moore embarked on a solo career. This, the first release with Gary as band leader is credited to The Gary Moore Band. The Gary Moore Band released one album together – 1973’s ‘Grinding Stone’.

The album possesses a fair amount of power, but not always much focus. ‘Time To Heal’, with a driving, almost southern boogie approach is one of the album’s better tracks, even if it’s more Allman Brothers than Gary Moore. The only down side is that Gary chooses to deliver his vocal in his rock style voice, which seems an odd choice given the nature of the material. It’s not like he’s not found his blues voice yet, either, as he uses that to great effect elsewhere on the album. The title cut is an instrumental (just shy of ten minutes) which fuses bluesy shuffles and faint hints of jazz rock, creating something which Carlos Santana would’ve been proud to have grace one of his mid seventies albums. Gary’s fuzzy guitar playing has a sometimes bluesy edge, but no real soul. It’s aggressive, sharp and fairly unrelenting. Jan Schellhaus (later of Caravan and Camel) helps create some softer counterbalance here; his piano and electric keyboard work is decent enough given what he has to work with. As something which sounds like it was born from a blues-rock jam, it’s pleasing enough, but you’ve heard this done so much better. ’The Energy Dance’ is a short keyboard instrumental leading into ‘Spirit’. All I’ll say about this is that Jan Schellhaas spoils decent piano work by overlaying what could be the most disgusting synth noise I’ve ever heard.

The seventeen minute tour-de-force ‘Spirit’ could’ve the high point for musicianship, although by the halfway point there’s a feeling that it could’ve been truncated. There’s a fine line between tasteful showmanship and self-indulgence…and this track wobbles across that line regularly. Starting with a tight workout (which again has an Allman Brothers Band feel) it certainly starts promisingly enough. Then, during a rhythmically pleasing section which sounds like another Santana cast-off (featuring solid interplay between Moore, Schellhaas and drummer Pearse Kelly), there’s a decent groove. However, the track falls apart at the seven minute mark as it descends into spacey keyboard and guitar noodling. At this point, it ultimately becomes something which feels like unnecessary filler. Even when the drums come back and the band fall into something which carries the spirit (no pun intended) of a threatening 70s film soundtrack, the momentum never really returns, despite a half decent guitar solo.

‘Boogie My Way Back Home’ is a standard blues workout, pre-empting Gary’s main musical focus by some years. It’s a track which features a simple, but direct use of slide guitar and Gary is in fairly strong voice. The vocal high point of the album, though, comes during the ballad ‘Sail Across The Mountain’. One of Gary’s greatest early achievements, his voice ranges from soulful to pained and passionate, again hinting at his future musical direction. In many ways, if ‘Grinding Stone’ makes any long lasting impression as an album at all, it’s one which leaves the listener asking why there couldn’t have been more of this?

Not long after the release of ‘Grinding Stone’, Gary’s solo career was put on hold, as he would be drafted in to replace Thin Lizzy’s departed guitarist Eric Bell. This tenure with Lizzy would be short, with Gary finishing their 1973 tour and contributing guitar parts to three songs from their 1974 album ‘Night Life’, before joining jazz rock outfit Colosseum II. He would later return to Thin Lizzy in 1979, as a full time member, appearing on their classic LP ‘Black Rose: A Rock Legend’.

As has been well documented, Gary would go on to achieve great things. His solo career – spanning several decades from 1979 onward – going from hard rock to blues and occasionally back again – has moments of sheer brilliance… ‘Grinding Stone’, meanwhile, is still no more than a curio which shows glimpses of greatness.

January 2010

THIN LIZZY – Thin Lizzy

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Thin Lizzy’s debut LP is a curious affair. The original group, comprised of Phil Lynott (vocals/bass), Eric Bell (guitar) and Brian Downey (drums) were supposedly conceived as a power trio – a hard rock format which had gained popularity in the late 60s with the likes of Cream – yet very little from their 1971 self-titled offering reflects that. It’s not weak, by any means, but overall it’s more ‘trio’ than ‘power’ and musically, much of it bears little resemblance to the band Lizzy would later become.

Despite most of the material not sounding much like classic Lizzy, it’s clear, even here, that Lynott is a charismatic frontman, an emotive vocalist and superb bassist. All of which are qualities which have a strong presence during ‘Honesty Is No Excuse’, a mid paced, soulful number. Lynott’s vocal delivery sounds like a man making an honest plea, with his voice almost cracking on the longer notes. While his bass work on this track is never flash, it’s got warmth, pinning the song down but never becoming intrusive. ‘Eire’ and ‘The Continuing Saga of The Aging Orphan’ are very fragile: ‘Eire’ features some simple bass playing from Lynott, while colourful guitar flourishes from Bell push what would’ve been a simple folk tale into folk-rock territory. During ‘Aging Orphan’, Bell and Downey are reduced to little more than backing for Lynott’s vocal, which is full of sadness.

‘Ray-Gun’ and ‘Look What The Wind Blew In’ are outright rockers, which are surprisingly enjoyable. ‘Ray-Gun’ showcases bluesy electric work from Eric Bell. The main groove is provided by his wah-wah riff, over which Lynott plays an incredibly funky bass. It’s one of the only moments where the three guys get close to the typical power trio style. ‘Look What The Wind Blew In’ feels simpler; it has a looser groove which ends up feeling a little messy, especially on the chorus, where Lynott chooses a smooth vocal style which doesn’t suit the tune…and then uses that to sing something which doesn’t really scan properly. ‘Return of the Farmer’s Son’ also demonstrates the band’s rock side. Brian Downey’s drum fills are excellent; Phil’s bass and vocals are aggressive and Eric’s blues-rock soloing gives the piece a decent edge. If Lizzy had looked towards this blues-rock style more instead of concentrating on a non-specific blend of psych, folk and blues, this would have been a very different record indeed. (Although, it clearly didn’t always work: ‘Remembering Part 1’ attempts to get tough, but ends up rather muddled).

‘Diddy Levine’ is a track that showcases the range of styles played by the original three-piece line-up in just over seven minutes. The verses are wordy and wistful, there are acoustic folk stylings, but as the song progresses, a hard rock riff develops. While there’s nothing wrong here, its folk elements aren’t as good as some of the album’s other gentler moments and any attempt to rock out doesn’t match the excitement generated by ‘Return of the Farmer’s Son’.

Thin Lizzy followed their debut with ‘Shades of a Blue Orphanage’, an album which showcased Lizzy’s growing confidence. That confidence manifested itself in a set of songs which showcase a slightly broader set of influences. As a result, the album feels rather unfocused. This second album also sold poorly. However, by the beginning of 1973, with two non-charting albums to their name, Thin Lizzy’s fortunes were about to change.

[A remastered version of ‘Thin Lizzy’ features bonus tracks culled from the Irish ‘New Day’ EP and another non-album single, ‘The Farmer’. Also included are overdubbed and remixed versions of four of the debuts songs – all of which were previously available on the 1979 Decca compilation ‘The Continuing Saga of the Ageing Orphans’.]

January 2010

STEVE HILLAGE – Motivation Radio

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steve hillageProbably best known for being the guitarist with Canterbury psych-prog legends Gong in the 1970s, Steve Hillage has had a long and successful career. It’s a great shame that while bands like Genesis and Yes have always been viewed as legends of 70s progressive music (though often derided by the press), Hillage has remained no more than a cult artist – his solo output criminally ignored in comparison.

While his first solo release ‘Fish Rising’ sold quite well due to its coinciding with his time in Gong, Hillage’s second release ‘L’ would be one of his most enduring, since it contains his cover (and arguable the definitive version) of Donovan’s ‘Hurdy Gurdy Man’. It’s his third album, however, which I feel best represents Hillage as both a great musician and arranger. Recorded in the US, ‘Motivation Radio’ was produced by Malcolm Cecil – inventor of TONTO (The Original New Timbral Orchestra), an electronic instrument, briefly popular in the mid 70s. As expected, he appears on the album with his beloved TONTO, but never in any great capacity. (TONTO was the first modular synthesizer, bought to prominence by Stevie Wonder. While it represented a great leap forward for electronic music, it wasn’t especially practical, since it was the size of a static caravan).

With far less of a reliance on the cover material that had been a huge focus on ‘L’, his 1977 release ‘Motivation Radio’ still features Hillage’s signature glissando guitar work at its core, but in terms of construction, it’s a much tighter collection of songs.

Heavily processed guitars open the album with the upbeat ‘Hello Dawn’. Electronic and acoustic drums back Hillage’s multi-tracked vocal as he greets a new day with optimism. A simple message of making the best of the new day – and the future – is coupled with a fantastic arrangement; Hillage’s multi-layered guitars have their signature sound. During the vocal sections they are used as striking punctuation; during the brief instrumental break at the songs close, their chorus of sound dominates. At just under three minutes, its brevity is a complete contrast to the extended jams of most of Hillage’s previous work. For ‘Motivation’, the band opts for a funk groove; with brimming confidence, the music is the perfect match for Hillage’s deliberately positive lyrics. Everything here is musically perfect, with absolutely no padding or improvisational qualities. While Hillage’s simple, driving riff is the dominant force, Miquette Giraudy’s keyboard fills are supportive, Joe Blocker’s drum patterns are superb and Reggie McBride’s bass work shows complexity without losing sight of his anchoring role.

With a tight drum intro which almost rivals Pierre Moerlen’s work on the Gong track ‘Oily Way’, ‘Light In The Sky’ is great from the off. Constructed around a classic 70s riff, Hillage’s band hit a really solid groove. Many years later it’s lyrics about aliens could be viewed with suspicion and Giraudy’s heavily French accented vocal interludes give an air of quirkiness which isn’t always quite so welcome, but musically, it’s absolutely top drawer stuff. (Those in the UK will recognise this as being the theme for the Channel 4 programme ‘The Friday/Sunday Night Project’ with Justin Lee Collins and Alan Carr. I have my suspicions that Collins was responsible for this choice of theme tune).

‘Radio’ has a rather more spacious vibe. Hillage lays down a slightly jazzy guitar line in the intro, even reprising the closing moments of ‘Light In The Sky’ in the process (it would have been better had ‘Light In The Sky’ segued straight into this; it certainly sounds like it was designed that way, despite there being an obvious track break). The rest of the band joins gradually, with Reggie McBride’s bass high in the mix, Joe Blocker’s drums laid back but never losing focus and Giraudy’s blankets of keys hovering somewhere in the back. A brief solo played by Malcolm Cecil on TONTO is very “of the moment” (though far from jarring or awful by any means), before Hillage’s lead vocal drifts in. With a more relaxed pace than the preceding material, ‘Radio’ has an ethereal quality far more in keeping with some of his earlier work from ‘L’; though that’s not to say it’s out of place on this album by any means. For fans of Hillage’s sweeping guitar solos, it’s certainly a high point. Likewise, his playing is exemplary during the instrumental number, ‘Octave Doctors’. There’s a typical spaciousness here and while the rest of the band turn in decent performances, Hillage really shines with plenty of glissando and vibrato. Possessing a tone more beautiful and distinctive than so many guitarists, he deserves as much worldwide recognition as Eric Clapton, David Gilmour, Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck for his work.

The ballad ‘Wait One Moment’ isn’t as instant as some of the album’s material, but repeated listens show it to have some brilliant qualities. Hillage’s soft vocal is very natural sounding against McBride’s unassuming bass runs and Blocker’s drums, which here adopt a style comparable to those of Pink Floyd’s Nick Mason (whom would work with Hillage the following year on the album ‘Green’). As is often the case though, it’s Hillage’s masterful soloing which provides the tracks greatest moments, his soaring and other-worldly approach not falling far short of genius.

‘Saucer Surfing’ provides the album with its most spiky arrangement. Hillage delivers an overly wordy verse (it’s lines all too long on purpose – each one scanning a line and a half or thereabouts), but even so it works, giving the piece an edginess and sense of urgency. Hillage’s riff is a simple one, based completely in the straight-up rock mould and combined with the bass and drums, this could have been just as easily played in the power trio format. Granted, once again, the lyrics regarding space exploration and “reality gypsies, surfing the vibrations with our minds” are certainly a product of their time, but I’m certain Hillage meant no harm and it all seems very heartfelt, even if the intentions of these reality gypsies seem really far removed from reality as we know it.
‘Searching For The Spark’ features a (then) futuristic base laid down by Giraudy and Cecil’s synth work. While the guitar solos here are superb, there’s not much else here of note. With the synths and TONTO dominating, Blocker’s drum work is aggressive in an attempt to create a balance between progressive rock and electronica and Hillage’s vocal sections aren’t so tuneful.

A cover of ‘Not Fade Away’ closes the album. Here, the more traditional, punchy three chord arrangement is represented by a loose groove, driven by Blocker’s drums, overlaid with trippy keyboard sounds courtesy of Giraudy, coupled with some quirkier sounds by Cecil on TONTO. Hillage’s vocal sounds a little uneasy here, but he makes up for it with some stunning guitar playing during the intro, largely based around the riff he’d written for Gong’s ‘I Never Glid Before’. It’s one of the album’s weaker numbers, not quite living up to the promise of that opening riff, but regardless of this, it was chosen as the album’s single release.

Hillage’s next album ‘Green’ has a similar feel in places, though has a tendency to wander into the kind of meandering present on ‘L’. However, it would be his 1979 outing ‘Rainbow Dome Musick’ which would have the biggest impact on Hillage’s post-Gong career. Containing two twenty minute suites of electronic music performed by Hillage and Giraudy (one for each side of the original LP), the album was way ahead of its time. Although under-appreciated at the time of release, it gained a new audience years later. Legend has it that during his time out of the spotlight, Hillage wandered into the chill out room at London club Heaven to hear parts of the album being played by Alex Petterson of The Orb during his DJ set. This led to Hillage not only collaborating with The Orb, but also forming his own ambient electronic act, System 7 (which, like ‘Rainbow Dome Musick, was a duo with his wife and long-term musical collaborator, Miquette Giraudy). Hillage had gone from being a cult 70s artist to being one who had not only relevance, but also made a huge impact on the 90s chill out/ambient electronic scene.

If you’ve not checked out any of Hillage’s albums and have a liking for great guitar playing and hippie ideals, then the first four each have their strong moments. While ‘Fish Rising’, ‘L’ and ‘Green’ can feel a little demanding on the listener at times, ‘Motivation Radio’ rarely wanders into musical self-indulgence, making it an unheralded classic among Hillage’s recorded works.

October 2010

JUDAS PRIEST – Rocka Rolla

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It’d be hard to argue with Judas Priest’s place in the world as heavy metal legends. A band synonymous with motorcycles, studs and leather, twin guitars and more than their share of classic anthems, alongside Iron Maiden, Priest are the band most easily associated with the genre. Their albums ‘Killing Machine’ and ‘British Steel’ (released in 1978 and 1980, respectively) provide near perfect examples of the “classic” heavy metal sound.

It hadn’t always been that way, however. Priest spent the latter half of the 1970s perfecting their brand of twin lead harmonies, screaming solos and god-like metal vocals, but looking back at their 1974 debut ‘Rocka Rolla’ (the first of two albums recorded for independent label Gull Records), an almost completely different Judas Priest can be heard.

Before looking at the album’s songs, it’s only fair to look at the album’s production values. ‘Rocka Rolla’ was produced by one-time Black Sabbath producer Rodger Bain. Bain’s technique of having the band play live in the studio and then using the best takes as the masters made the first three Sabbath albums the sludgy classics they are – a technique so, so right for Sabbath’s monolithic riffs – but generally it doesn’t work here for Priest, whose heavy, bluesy riffs really could have done with a producer with more finesse at the helm. There are moments where Bain’s style of working brings out good qualities in Priest, but for most of this album, it’s obvious that Rodger Bain just wasn’t the man for the job; his world of minimalist knob-twiddling suffocating most of Priest’s subtler elements.

This is obvious from the opening of the album. ‘One For The Road’ is a track which stomps across four and a half minutes with Glenn Tipton and KK Downing’s leaden blues-rock riffing made even more leaden by Bain’s technique. While the production doesn’t bring out the best in the song and even KK Downing’s guitar solo sounds a little echoed and lost among the swampiness, Rob Halford’s vocal performance is decent. It’s clear that even at this early stage, he has the makings of a great vocalist. All the while, that riff hammers away, sounding even more leaden by the song’s end; you can almost imagine Glenn and KK sagging under its weight. ‘Never Satisfied’ also has a heavy riff, although this time rather more hard rock based, making it a track which has much in common with Priest’s sound a couple of years later. Halford’s vocal for this song is strong, but it’s its closing moment which is the clincher. Rob squeals at a pitch which is very out of step with this album as a rule, but is very typical of later Priest: a squeal which would almost become his trademark. (Interestingly, while Judas Priest dropped all of ‘Rocka Rolla’s songs from their live set as early as 1975, Rob Halford included ‘Never Satisfied’ in his solo band’s live set in 2003).

The title track would become one of the album’s best known numbers, thanks to a performance on ‘The Old Grey Whistle Test’. Taking things at a faster pace, Glenn and KK offer a riff that’s just this side of jaunty – more of a cockney knees-up than traditional heavy metal. Halford, meanwhile churns out some near laughable lyrics, not befitting of a man who would earn the title Metal God. It features a use of multi tracked vocals on the chorus (these represent something which should have sounded better, and with a more suitable producer on board, who knows what could have happened?) Between the upbeat vibes, Glenn and KK contribute some half-decent Thin Lizzy inspired twin lead work and Halford even tinkers with a harmonica. Generally, while it feels like the album’s most disposable number, rather perversely, it’s also one of its most enjoyable.

The album’s most adventurous undertaking is a four song suite, often referred to as the ‘Winter Suite’ after its first – and best – part. On most pressings of ‘Rocka Rolla’, the suite is broken down into four separate songs, with CD track markers at the relevant points. Its opening part, the aforementioned ‘Winter’, offers the album’s best look at the would-be heavy metal band. A grinding, heavy riff dominates here – one best likened to a classic Tony Iommi riff. A slow and heavy approach is partly responsible for any Sabbath comparisons, but this is further cemented by Rodger Bain’s production sound (and here, thankfully, it really works). The heavy riffing is followed by ‘Deep Freeze’ – where KK makes some guitar noises with the aid of an effects pedal and a tremolo bar for two minutes (about a minute too long) – before the soft edges of ‘Winter Retreat’ appear somewhere on the horizon. For this all too brief interlude, the guitars have a clean tone and Halford showcases the softer side of his vocal. It feels like a really positive moment; one which really suggests there’s far more to this band than is represented on this LP. The suite closes with ‘Cheater’, propelled by a proto-heavy metal riff, which, like ‘Never Satisfied’ looks forward to a more “classic” Priest sound (in fact, the riff has a very similar quality to the one Glenn and KK would use four years later as the core of ‘Saints In Hell’, from the ‘Stained Class’ album’). Lyrically, ‘Cheater’ doesn’t fit with the winter theme, as Halford sings of a woman who wronged him while the rest of the band rock out. As a standalone number, this would work well as part of the album, but there’s no reason why it should be this musical suite’s closing statement.

‘Dying To Meet You’ represents the most un-Priest-like track on what’s already an un-Priest-like album. A slow blues with gentle pacing, the band back Halford telling tales of battle and carnage; the battle scenario already feels a little misplaced in the understated musical setting, but factor in Halford’s decision to deliver the song in a full-on croon and it’s just baffling. At what seems like the song’s end, there’s a coda attached (sometimes thought of as a separate track, referred to as ‘Hero Hero’) where Priest bring things up a gear. Galloping along at a pace much faster than most of this album’s material, like ‘Cheater’, this provides a decent glimpse of the kind of hard rock/metal Priest would make their forte over the following years. It’s an all too brief ray of light among cloudiness though – and the fact it stops dead in its tracks at just over two and a half minutes leaves the listener (or at least this listener) feeling a little short-changed. Also much shorter than planned, an instrumental number, ‘Caviar and Meths’ (represented here by KK and Glenn attempting two minutes of atmospherics) began life as a fourteen minute epic (written by the band’s original frontman Alan Atkins). The ‘Caviar and Meths’ of ‘Rocka Rolla’ was the intended intro to that epic – stripped of whatever followed, it feels somewhat pointless here.

At nearly nine minutes long, ‘Run of the Mill’ showcases the band’s early pomp and progressive rock tendencies. Against a gentle vocal, Ian Hill’s bass rumbles and Glenn and KK contribute occasional disjointed twangs. Where there should be a chorus, the band break into a heavy riff which doesn’t actually go anywhere…before returning to the main musical theme. At the four minute mark, the band takes on a rambling, almost jam-like state. Hill’s simple bass riff provides the muscle, while (again, low in the mix) Glenn and KK trade off solos; not in the blistering style they’d soon develop, here they have more of a kind of psyche-blues vibrato element. All in all, it makes what should have been a four minute song far too long. The closing section brings Halford back to the mic, where he indulges in some full-on metal screaming. It’s typical of later Priest and a style of music ‘Rocka Rolla’ would have explored father, had Priest got their way.

The band claims there were too many outside influences during the making of ‘Rocka Rolla’. Supposedly, according to one rumour, Gull insisted that Priest shouldn’t be quite so full-on metal and along the way their sound got watered down. Gull’s plan was that by releasing something a little softer, Priest stood a better chance of gaining a bigger following. It didn’t work – but at least Priest didn’t bow to the record company suggestion that the album should feature horns.

Gull Records have long since folded, but ‘Rocka Rolla’ has been licensed out to different reissue companies, who’ve seemingly re-issued it as many times as possible. Some issues feature the original bottle-cap sleeve (which, incidentally, the band also hated) while some feature new “more suitable” artwork, featuring a painting originally commissioned for a Michael Moorcock novel (first used as sleeve art in 1984); some CD reissues have been remastered, some not; some feature the original version of ‘Diamonds and Rust’ (actually recorded during the sessions for their second album) as a bonus track, some don’t. ‘Rocka Rolla’ is a reissue nightmare – and considering it’s almost permanently been available in some form or other since its first licensed reissue in 1984, it’s never found its way into the collections of anyone but the most die-hard Priest fans…and that says a lot.

Marred by a few sub-standard tunes and then having the wrong man produce (a man who decided shelving a few of the band’s best early songs – ‘Genocide’, ‘Tyrant’ and ‘The Ripper’ – was a good idea), it’s a wonder ‘Rocka Rolla’ has anything listenable on it at all. Rather understandably, it’s a mere curio in the Priest back catalogue – an album owned by only the hardcore fan base and one only really appreciated fully by few. Luckily, the band’s second album, ‘Sad Wings of Destiny’, would capture the band’s truer sound. It would be the first of many classic Priest albums, and one which would bring major record labels knocking…

July 2010

RICK DERRINGER – All American Boy

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Rick Derringer has had a long career. From being a member of the McCoys (of ‘Hang On Sloopy’ fame), to sterling work with Edgar and Johnny Winter during their glory years, to releasing many solo albums, there’s plenty to enjoy. ‘All American Boy’, Derringer’s first solo outing from 1974 is one of his best (though I would argue that the first half of his solo career, up to 1980 is well worth investigation).

Kicking off with the evergreen classic ‘Rock N Roll, Hoochie Koo’ (Derringer’s best known solo recording), you’ll have a fair idea of where the next forty minutes is headed.
‘Joy Ride’ is a short high-gear instrumental. The drum sound here is excellent and while the overall effect is unashamedly 70s, this is the sound of a band of musicians at the top of their game. On the other hand, ‘Cheap Tequila’ is never a track I find myself eager to listen to. It sounds like it was designed as fun, but in the end, takes itself too seriously. It has a southern rock meets country feel and although jaunty, is never destined for classic status.

‘Teenage Queen’ is soft around the edges with a slightly west coast appeal. It’s typical of other songs Derringer released in this vein, but it’s still great listening, with beautiful vocals, subtle guitar work and nice orchestration to flesh out the sound. ‘Hold’ follows a similar pattern, again beautifully orchestrated, but the final product seems more polished, with a definite nod to the genius of Todd Rundgren. Definitely a contender for the album’s best track.

‘Uncomplicated’ is simple, stompy American rock, following a similar path to ‘Rock N Roll, Hoochie Koo’ and while ‘The Airport Giveth’ follows a similar formula to the Todd Rundgren inspired material, there’s something a bit less focused, giving it a slightly dated feel. Though somehow, possibly due to exposure to a fair amount of Rundgren, Carole King et al, I still quite like it. ‘Jump Jump Jump’ is pure genius, seeing Derringer explore a more spacious, bluesy style, though not up to the blues levels he’d go to after his early 80s sabbatical. For best results, check out the blistering live version of this from 1980’s ‘Face To Face’ LP.

The quirkiness of ‘Teenage Love Affair’ again goes for the same effect as ‘Uncomplicated’, but remains one of the rare times where this collection of songs misses the mark. ‘Time Warp’ is a driving instrumental clocking in at just under three minutes, though due to the intensity of the arrangement it feels longer. It sounds like the underscore for a car chase in a 70s cop film, merged with guitar riffs which tip the hat to ‘Heart Of The Sunrise’ by prog-rock behemoths Yes. ‘Slide on Over Slinky’ a pop-blues, the kind at which Derringer often excelled throughout the decade, is a welcome addition here.

‘All American Boy’ is a great solo debut, paving the way for other Derringer releases throughout the 1970s, most of which have something to recommend them. If you’ve enjoyed this and haven’t yet done so, check out 1980’s ‘Face To Face’: which although patchy, contains the aforementioned superb live take of ‘Jump Jump Jump’ and the wonderful pop of ‘Runaway’.

November 2007