Take 6 - Whiter Shade Of Pale/ There Goes My Everything/ Carrie Anne/ Groovin/ Okay/ Here Come The Nice

 

Pocket money covers of tip-top chart hits, from the faithful to the ghastly

Label: Take 6/ Avenue

Year of Release: 1967

While they're probably never going to command huge prices, budget sound-a-like hits compilations have been picking up casual interest from collectors of late, not least because some of the session players on these stocking filler discs later went on to become famous. Elton John grabbed the opportunities that were afforded keenly and was noted for his adaptability in the studio, although sometimes the results were rather unexpected. Likewise, David Byron of Uriah Heep wasn't averse to popping in for a cup of tea and a rendition of one of the day's hits in exchange for a few pounds (such as this cover of John Lennon's "Cold Turkey").

"Take 6" was a short lived and not particularly successful six-track EP series issued by Avenue Records which worked to the same familiar business model as all the others - get some seasoned musicians in quickly to accurately record the hits of the day (and absolutely no fannying about with "alternative interpretations" or fresh arrangements) then get the product on the shelves whip-smart to rival the official versions. They retailed at the cost of a standard seven inch single and must have been tempting to the uniformed or the unfussy who deemed it worth their while to own six A sides for the price of one. 

To give them full credit, the session musicians mostly managed to produce fair forgeries of the original work, and that's borne out by track one here, a cover of "Whiter Shade Of Pale" which just about manages to retain the mystical heat haze of the original. True, it sounds more like Van Morrison singing than Gary Brooker (but don't get excited, it's almost certainly not) but the rest is a faithful replica with only the thinness of the production showing itself as a marked difference.

And so the pattern follows throughout most of the EP, being filled with competent, efficient versions of top hits,  until you get to the main track I bought this for, The Small Faces under-the-radar paean to drug purchasing "Here Come The Nice". This was actually a very smartly, carefully produced and arranged number in its official incarnation with a depth, tricksiness and slickness which was going to be very difficult to pin down by any would-be interpreters, and so it proves. The pinging guitar notes at the start quickly give way to ludicrous falsetto vocals somewhere between Tiny Tim, The Pipkins and Donald and Davey Stott, then the session players deliver a Youth Club bash-through the song, which it really didn't deserve. Still, it's as terrible as I'd hoped, and sometimes hearing people fall flat on their arses trying to perform something wonderful is actually masochistic fun. I hope for their sake that nobody famous was involved in this monstrous three minutes; as no credits are ever given on these releases, we will probably never know.

The Chances-R - Talking Out the Back Of My Head and Turn A New Leaf Over

Two singles from relentless Southampton rockers and Melody Maker Beat Contest finalists.

Label: CBS
Year of Release: 1967

While Battle of the Bands contests are seen as a bit passé now, back in the sixties the Melody Maker National Beat Contest was a huge opportunity for aspiring groups. Shining a spotlight on bands away from the London hub, anyone who made the final at the London Palladium was at the very least a powerful live act. The competition tended not to leave itself open to mere fashion and hype - if you couldn't deliver, you didn't get through.

Rob Chance and The Chances-R went through a number of heats to earn the opportunity to perform in the final in 1966, and lead singer Rob decided that the best way of impressing the judges and audience would be to sing "Maria" and "Somewhere" from West Side Story. It has been suggested that this stunt reduced them to mere third place, as while Chance's performance was strong, it clearly wasn't in keeping with the other sharp bands on the bill raving it up. In the end, Neath's Eyes of Blue took the top prize, which seems to make perfect sense to me ("West Side Story" errors of judgement from the bronze placed band or not). They were widely regarded to be a fierce live act in their day.

The publicity was obviously valuable to The Chances-R, and they signed to CBS the following year. First out of the traps was "Talking Out The Back Of My Head" in March 1967, a skippy, jolly beat offering with vague Motown undertones, which ironically sounds very slightly like Eyes of Blue circa "Supermarket Full Of Cans". With tight vocal harmonies, an insistent chorus and one of the most dangerously long false endings I've ever heard, it's only fault is probably the nagging use of "la la la la" vocal lines, which are overdone.

It wasn't a hit, but their next release would be a bit sharper and livelier. (Entry continues beneath the sound files)

We Do Like To Be Beside The B-Side

I was having a discussion with a friend the other week about how, in idle moments of boredom on Sunday afternoons, no time is ever truly wasted flicking through those 50p sixties singles you picked up at the local junk shop and just quickly checking what's on the flip side.  There's a modern aversion to the concept of the B-side, a lingering suspicion that the second division side of the disc will only be hiding rush-recorded, rush-written pieces of flannel, or something only the band's most ardent fans could love.  In truth, not only did B-sides in the sixties frequently hide some uncharacteristically freaky jams - as with Dave Clark Five's "Concentration Baby" above, the flip to the monotonous middle-of-the-road ballad "Everybody Knows" - they were also often the place where established acts would leave the dancefloor friendly material, or up-and-coming acts would showcase some of their other quality tunes for the kids out there who might be tempted to dial the 200+ numbers on a jukebox out of curiosity.

Sitting neatly within the dancefloor groover category is "Hey Hey Girl", the flip to Amen Corner's number one single "If Paradise Is Half As Nice".  The organ honks away on this like nobody's business, and the track itself has a repetitive, barn-storming energy which would be the envy of most sixties mod bands.  My copy of "Paradise" has worn grooves and a below-average sound on the A-side, but the B-side still sounds crisp, fresh and ready to create a party in my living room - whoever owned it before clearly didn't think to pay closer attention to its other half.  More fool them.

Taking their cues from the Dave Clark Five in the "somebody put something in their drinks" stakes are Dave Dee Dozy Beaky Mick and Tich of all people, with "The Sun Goes Down" resting on the B-side of "Zabadak". This is such an uncommercial piece of droning psychedelia that it's a wonder anybody at all captured it on disc, never mind DDDBMT.  I suspect their tongues were firmly in their cheeks at the time of recording it, but that doesn't stop it from being a hugely eccentric outing, a noise-fest which seems one part Beatles, one part Rolf Harris circa "Sun Arise", another part BBC Sound Effects LP.  Despite suffering from the reputation as being something of a mass-marketed "pop" act by the tail end of the decade, DDDBMT did actually issue a number of class singles - the lyrically interesting "Last Night In Soho" being a particular favourite of mine - but this is as psychedelic as they got.

Away from the stench of incense and back towards the sweaty, beery basements of London's swinging clubs, the flip side of Chris Andrews' rather oompah ridden piece of pop "Yesterday Man" is the distinctly more abrasive, howling rocker "Too Bad You Don't Want Me", which rips up a storm and makes the A-side seem like a limp entrant for "A Song For Europe".  Andrews squawks and screeches his way through a tune about a girl who doesn't want his company, whilst guitars twang merrily along and the groove concocted is entirely infectious.  Andrews wasn't averse to making loud, abrasive noises, and one of his later singles "Hold On" is well worth tracking down for this very reason - but the company "Too Bad" keeps itself in makes it seem like a decidedly pleasant surprise.  That 50p need not have been spent on a chocolate bar after all.

If you're lucky enough to own a copy of The Easybeats' "Friday On My Mind" (which still only seems to retail for around the £5 mark at the cheapest, despite its hit single status) you've already got one of the best pieces of sixties freakbeat there is - on its flip, however, is "Made My Bed Gonna Lie In It", a tune which admittedly fails to top the A-side (few things would) but is a damn good showcase for the band in itself, with Shel Talmy's production sounding spectacularly akin to his work with The Who in this instance.

We could talk forever around this topic, even excluding obvious artists like The Beatles who seldom wasted the space afforded on B-sides.  I could bring up The Kinks "Big Black Smoke", Herman's Hermits' surprisingly garagey "It's Alright" (not on YouTube yet, surprisingly), or any number of obscure artists whose B-sides represented their sound better than their Tin Pan Alley off-the-peg purchased A-sides - but perhaps I'll throw it over to you good readers for more suggestions, if you want to contribute in the comments.  The best thing about these flips is that even if you're rummaging around the record bins in a charity shop or find yourself in a second-hand record store with no bank notes, just loose change, they still give you a ray of hope that you  may walk out with something unexpectedly good.