The Collectors - I Must Have Been Blind/ The Beginning

 

Label: London

Year of Release: 1970

While this was their first and only UK release, The Collectors had a long and complicated history in Canada prior to landing here. They initially formed as The C-Fun Classics in 1961, then eventually changed their name to the Canadian Classics, and were the house band of the British Colombia station CFUN-AM. While I haven't been able to track down all the records they released in this guise, the few sips I've tasted are more-or-less what you'd anticipate given the band's purpose - slick, professional and sweet but not anything to telephone your friends about. 

As the years moved on, however, a slightly rougher edge began to work it's way into their sound. 1965's "I Don't Know" has sulky vocals and snappy fuzz guitar lines, and may have been a hint of things to come. By 1966 they had experienced a reshuffling of their line-up which prompted a name change to The Collectors, with the line-up of this act consisting of Howie Vickers on lead vocals, Bill Henderson on guitar, vocals and keyboards, Claire Lawrence on Saxophone, Flute, Keyboards, Harmonica & Vocals, Glenn Miller (no, not THAT one, you dolts) on bass and vocals, and Ross Turney on drums.

They became the house band at Torch Cabaret in Vancouver, grooving their way through the dancefloor hits of the period, but gradually began to introduce original material of their own. Most of this output deviated from the old style of The Classics and had folk rock and psychedelic arrangements cut through the centre. Some bona fide hits subsequently arrived in the form of "Looking At A Baby" (number 23 in the Canadian charts) and "Fisherwoman" (number 18) but perhaps the most fascinating artefact of all is the album "Grass and Wild Strawberries", written as the soundtrack to a theatre play by George Ryga. Considered by some to be a lost progressive work of some worthiness, the contents were also played live by the band throughout the play's entire run.

In 1969 Howie Vickers left the group and the depleted line-up recorded and released this record for London. It's a single of two halves, with the verses having an almost Small Faces-esque jogging jauntiness, while the mournful but extremely catchy chorus sees the group harmonising with regret about various ill-advised house moves they've made (kinda). It wasn't a big seller in any country, perhaps because the arrangements on offer here are more suited to the psychedelic sixties than the birth of seventies rock and pop. The whole affair feels as if it could have sold healthily three years prior to its release date - but not in 1970.

Following the failure of both this record and the follow-up "Sometimes We're Up", they became Chilliwack who had much greater success in both the USA and Canada, issuing 12 LPs and remaining a live force in their home country to this day. 

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