Two sides of dreamy melancholic garage
Label: Target
Year of Release: 1969
Well here's a tricky conundrum. There have been an absolute ton of sixties acts called The Coachmen, which has naturally resulted in enormous confusion. In typical Spinal Tap-esque fashion, some of these Coachmen became aware of identically named acts and changed their names accordingly, but others seemingly didn't. Nobody had the Internet then and tiny garage acts from different parts of the USA often operated in blissful ignorance of each other.
So (*takes deep breath*) there was The Coachmen from Nebraska, The Coachmen from Memphis, The Coachmen from Milwaukee who changed their name to the Mourning Dayze after finding out there were some other Coachmen in the same area, and The other Coachmen from Milwaukee who didn't change their names at all, plus The Five Coachmen from Texas and The Royal Coachmen from Michigan. There may be even be others, and indeed the seventies saw yet more Coachmen emerging besides the ones I've just mentioned. It's confusing.
Luckily, it's very easy to establish that this lot are the original Milwaukee Coachmen (who didn't change their names) and if that turns out to be incorrect information, I'll happily get on an overnight coach myself from London to Glasgow as punishment. This group consisted of Jim Kaminski on lead guitar, Ray Johnson on vocals, Leon Kleckowski on drums, Rick Pries on organ and Jeff Greenthal on bass.
They managed two singles on the local Target Records in 1969 of which this was the first. Both sides here are a subtle delight, filled with dreamy vocal harmonies, droning organ sounds and lo-fi but nonetheless blissful and intricate arrangements. By the close of the decade there's no doubt that this kind of thing probably felt dated and more in tune with the boho scene of '66, but from a 2022 perspective its one to stick on your compilation of Autumnal heartbroken sixties garage sounds.
Their follow-up was a cover of The Beatles "Hey Bulldog" which has slid into even greater obscurity than this effort. This means they joined the overcrowded league of sixties groups who covered that track believing it was a surefire hit only to find themselves disappointed.
Once that came and went, it seems to have been the end of the road for the band, unlike The Mourning Dayze (the other Coachmen from Milwaukee who changed their names, remember?) who are still going to this day, trading on their garage rock past and playing live and loud in the area. Don't ask me about all the other Coachmen. There's probably an entire book in this subject for anyone who feels so inclined, though.
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2 comments:
agreed, sounds more like California 66 than Wisconsin 69
Always interesting when this happens. Similarly, there's loads of good smalltown psychedelic pop from Britain in 1968/69. Trends usually fizzled out in the big "cultural" cities first and it took everyone else a bit of time to catch up.
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