Fuzz Face - Mighty Quinn/ Voices From The Sky

"Groovy" sitar and organ instro version of the Dylan/ Manfred classic

Label: Page One

Year of Release: 1968

Anything I write about the progression of "Mighty Quinn (Quinn The Eskimo)" from a "Great White Wonder" Dylan bootleg track to a major hit for Manfed Mann is probably going to be a bit of a waste of energy - everyone knows the story, after all. Dylan's songbook was continually plundered throughout the late sixties (and indeed beyond) by bands desperate for both cred and hits, and the adventures of Quinn the Eskimo were possibly the poppiest of options on offer, as well as handily buried on an unofficial release.

While Manfred Mann had shot to number one with their version of the track by February 1968, Fuzz Face here - who I'm 99.9% confident were some sort of American studio group - were latecomers to the party, issuing their version in April of that year. In fairness, it puts a slightly different spin on things, loading an instrumental version of the track with guitar effects, sitars, organs and decidedly "groovy" backing rhythms, making it prime fodder for anyone's house party. You can dance to this with much greater ease than the Mann's rather stompier take. 

Commercially, though, there wasn't much room in the charts for two versions of the same song at roughly the same time, and this sank on both sides of the pond. A shame, but it wasn't at all unusual for instrumental versions of pop hits to do this, however innovative or otherwise faintly psychedelic they were.

Paul Jones - Pretty Vacant/ Sheena Is A Punk Rocker

Label: RSO

Year of Release: 1978

Piss-taking pop parodies have always had a place in musical history. Joke easy-listening/ classical interpretations of hard-edged, sneering rock and roll have existed for just as long as mirth-making aggressive versions of traditionally innocent tracks. Every Oasis has had their Mike Flowers, and every innocent children's show its Dickies. We've found examples of the phenomenon on this blog dating as far back as the early sixties, and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see the practice surviving another fifty years. The very best and very worst jokes are always deathless.

Ex-Manfred Mann member Paul Jones's cover of the Sex Pistols "Pretty Vacant" is, however, so rich in detail that it's one of the most careful jokes ever. With the orchestra whirling into action for the intro, to the smooth, gentle bass sounds throughout, right down to Jones's weary mid-Atlantic vocals (more Jack Jones than Paul Jones, in fact) it finds fluffy levels of detail in the spikiness of the original you'd never have suspected were there. In this sense, what was doubtless supposed to be a very cheeky stab at the Pistols becomes a peculiar compliment - you suddenly appreciate the band's songwriting chops more than you perhaps previously did (not that I ever needed much convincing).

As if to highlight this, the B-side "Sheena Is A Punk Rocker" - flipped to be the A-side on some versions of this single - is altogether less interesting, causing Jones and Tim Rice on production duties to pull humour from as sarcastic a delivery of the lyrics as feasibly possible.

Portsmouth's finest son Paul Jones is no stranger to this blog, of course - we've already referred to him once when writing about the amazing 60s B-side "The Dog Presides".

Manfred Mann/ Mike Hugg - Ski Full of Fitness Theme/ Sweet Baby Jane

Label: Ski

Year of Release: 1971

Manfred Mann were a perplexing paradox of a group at their peak. Named after their South African keyboard player and originally performing in the jazz and blues styles he so loved, they quickly morphed into a huge hit making machine, chalking up three British number ones which have become the staple of sixties oldie collections ("Do Wah Diddy Diddy", "Pretty Flamingo", "Mighty Quinn"). All are classy pop recordings, but were almost certainly a world away from the career Mann had envisaged for himself, and other stars of the time such as Scott Walker were frequently astounded at the patience he showed for such a bog-standard pop career.

By the seventies, something had clearly snapped, and Mann and co-conspirator Mike Hugg seemed to have devised a plan. They formed a new group called Manfred Mann Chapter Three focussed on experimental jazz rock, and continued to write and record other songs for commercial and advertising use. Clearly understanding that some commercial compromise was essential to making a living as a musician, Mann obviously thought that his time could be sensibly split with his pop songwriting chops being licensed for marketing purposes to partly finance other weightier projects. And indeed, why not? To this day, jazz musicians pay the bills by popping up as session musicians on all manner of other more simplistic material.

The "Ski Full of Fitness Theme" is an oddity which stems from this period, and can be widely found in charity shops and second hand shops the length and breadth of the country. Given away as part of a deal with Ski yoghurts, it's a surprisingly loose and pleasing yet strangely facile jam. "Ski - the full of fitness food!/ Feel fit for anything!/ Na na na na na na/ NA NA NA NA NA NAAAA!" they enthusiastically inform us before bursting into a bit of guitar riffola. This is not the stuff winning advertising slogans are made of, but as the brilliant magazine "Shindig" pointed out recently, the guitar jam of the main track does propel things along nicely.

Ski yoghurt was also a heavily marketed phenomenon so particular to the 1970s that mentioning it may act like a bat light to Peter Kay. Certainly in my house we devoured this exotic "fitness food", usually helping things along a bit by pouring in a spoonful of white granular sugar to make the concoction less sour. "What is the point?" you may ask, and I can only reply: "What? Of our behaviour, or this blog entry? I'm not sure I can help you in either case."

What I can tell you is that Manfred Mann Chapter Three were a very short-lived proposition, surviving for only two albums, and after this quirky period business was semi-returned to usual with the rather more rocky Manfred Mann Earth Band, who managed further top ten hits without veering things in a particularly poppy direction. Mike Hugg continued his career in jazz without Mann while also penning the legendary theme to "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads" (partly inventing the mood of Oasis's "Don't Look Back In Anger" in the process), and presumably everything resolved itself relatively neatly. What else can you say apart from na na na na na na, and indeed, NA NA NA NA NA NA!