Reupload - Symbols - Blackbird/ Great Swamp Symphony

 

Mike Post produced Soul/ gospel reworking of The Beatles track

Label: Bell

Year of Release: 1971

Just when you think you've been made aware of all the one-single wonder groups whose sole effort was a Beatles cover, another rears its head. Sometimes it's like one big game of whack-a-mole where all the rodents are wearing Woolworths Beatle wigs.

Soul and reggae covers of Beatles tracks are by no means uncommon, and "Blackbird" should perhaps be considered one of the most appropriate choices for politically minded groups during the sixties and seventies. Apparently written by McCartney partly in response to the black civil rights struggle in America, "Blackbird" may act as a discreet, delicate, folksy moment on "The White Album", but its background message had a far greater power potentially waiting to be amplified. 

This clearly wasn't lost on The Symbols (or the ska group The Paragons in 1973) who deliver a much punchier, less subtle version of the song here. Gospel vocals holler "Fly blackbird fly!" at regular intervals while the arrangement of McCartney's original finger-plucked version is swamped by strings and roaring vocal harmonies. It's transformed from a plaintive and pretty tune into a sweeping, panoramic piece, like something you would expect to hear in the concluding dramatic moments of a motion picture. 

The Oxford Watchband - Diagnosis (One Way Empty & Down)/ Welcome To The World

Disorientating and dramatic psychedelic soul

Label: Hand

Year of Release: 1969

I'm an absolute sucker for psychedelic singles which appear to be pulling in six different directions at once, and this one has been high on my "wants" list for years. It's delirious, dramatic and almost hysterical soul music set to lysergic shifts and changes, a rambling warning about nothing remotely coherent - similar to a nightmare you've woken up from at 3am with no conscious recollection of any meaningful thread which would help you to understand why you're drenched in cold sweat.

The song starts with urgent soulful singing about a bad medical diagnosis, then references an almighty downpour, before the music fades out and an ambient thunderstorm begins, combined with crashes, bangs, screams, shouts, arguments and mayhem. Then, naturally, the song returns and reaches its conclusion with one guitar whining alone in the distance. I'm none the wiser, but it's a bewitching three minutes which has more ideas on one 7" single than some bands manage on one side of an album. Over the years I've come to think of it as being a snippet from a film shorn of all context, three minutes razored out from the most dramatic moment.

 The Oxford Watchband were formed in Rochester, New York by brothers Brad and Jeff Wheat after they left the group The Heard, who issued the single "Laugh With The Wind" on Audition in 1966. Adding Jim Gilbert, Franke Previte and Jai Mate to their line-up, this was, to the best of my knowledge, the only single on their own Hand Records and while it benefited from a distribution deal with Capitol, clearly stuff like this wasn't going to sell by the shipload and it only registered on a cultish level in the local area. 

Previte went on to bigger things with the hard rock group BullAngus, and eventually wrote the smash hit "I've Had The Time Of My Life" for the "Dirty Dancing" soundtrack, which is obviously epic in a completely different and more coherent way. The movements of the rest are not clear, but please do fill in the blanks below if you can.

Symbols - Blackbird/ Great Swamp Symphony

Mike Post produced Soul/ gospel reworking of The Beatles track

Label: Bell

Year of Release: 1971

Just when you think you've been made aware of all the one-single wonder groups whose sole effort was a Beatles cover, another rears its head. Sometimes it's like one big game of whack-a-mole where all the rodents are wearing Woolworths Beatle wigs.

Soul and reggae covers of Beatles tracks are by no means uncommon, and "Blackbird" should perhaps be considered one of the most appropriate choices for politically minded groups during the sixties and seventies. Apparently written by McCartney partly in response to the black civil rights struggle in America, "Blackbird" may act as a discreet, delicate, folksy moment on "The White Album", but its background message had a far greater power potentially waiting to be amplified. 

This clearly wasn't lost on The Symbols (or the ska group The Paragons in 1973) who deliver a much punchier, less subtle version of the song here. Gospel vocals holler "Fly blackbird fly!" at regular intervals while the arrangement of McCartney's original finger-plucked version is swamped by strings and roaring vocal harmonies. It's transformed from a plaintive and pretty tune into a sweeping, panoramic piece, like something you would expect to hear in the concluding dramatic moments of a motion picture. 

Tony Washington - Crying Man/ Please Mr. DJ

Island ska songwriter with a neat piece of mid-tempo soul

Label: React

Year of Release: 1965

The name Tony Washington may not seem immediately familiar, but he is believed to have played piano on the historic, ground-breaking recording of "My Boy Lollipop" by Millie, and also wrote the single's B-side "Something's Gotta Be Done".  Arriving from Jamaica in the early sixties, he found an early champion in Chris Blackwell who, besides the Millie gig, cut some of his own singles on Island and also the label's Black Swan and Sue subsidiaries. 

Unfortunately, unlike Millie his solo ska material never really came close to breaking into the mainstream, and most of his singles are incredibly scarce these days. He attempted some non-ska releases too, such as the track "Sunday" in 1963 which was aimed more at the pop market, but even these went nowhere.

Given the fact that "Crying Man" found its home on the tiny independent label React, it's arguably one of his more obscure and poor-selling efforts. Like "Sunday", though, it falls back on a conventional structure, this time a jogging soul sound. You could almost describe it as a Northern Soul sound, but it arguably lacks the tempo or the emotional delivery; Washington's vocals in places sound oddly cheery given the rather glum break-up the lyrics portray. Nonetheless, it's a solid performance and a highly likeable record. 

Mr Joe English - Lay Lady Lay/ Two Minute Warning

Label: Fontana

Year of Release: 1969

Now here's a bit of an interesting find - an obscure and, so far as I can tell, almost completely ignored soul cover of a Bob Dylan track. This version of "Lay Lady Lay" is mellow, atmospheric, and filled to the brim with basslines so fat you could fill a jar with the drippings from them. With a relaxed, smoky vibe around it which almost recalls the pace and atmosphere of Dusty Springfield's "Son of A Preacher Man", Mr English's voice is expressive and takes the song to new and blissful places - in all, a cover worth looking out for.

The B-side has picked up a few fans online already, but also remains obscure. "Two Minute Silence" sounds like a bit of a funky studio jam, but definitely shows what English and his studio guests were capable of as soon as some energy was injected into proceedings. 

I have absolutely no idea who Joe English was. A man of that name turned up in Paul McCartney's Wings as their drummer, obviously, but this almost certainly isn't the same person. Nor is it the J English who turned up on Count Shelly records in 1973, who was Junior English, aka reggae performer Errol English, operating under another name. 

If anyone has any clues, please let me know. This is a lovely little single, and one of those moments where I've found myself wishing I had more material by the artist to investigate.

Reupload - Johnny Johnson & His Bandwagon - Mr. Tambourine Man/ Soul Sahara

Label: Bell

Year of Release: 1971

Johnny Johnson and His Bandwagon, rather like Geno Washington, were an American soul act who had far greater success in the UK. "Breaking Down The Walls of Heartache" was a number four hit in 1968 - even though, given its subsequent influence and club plays, it feels as if it should have climbed even higher than that - and whilst the original line-up of The Bandwagon failed to last into the seventies, Johnson was keen to continue to capitalise on his success outside of the States.

A whole variety of other singles were issued, including the top ten hits "Sweet Inspiration" and "(Blame It) On The Pony Express", shortly before this one was issued to public indifference. Your eyes aren't deceiving you - it is indeed a soulful rendition of the Dylan/ Byrds classic, complete with sweat, intensity and a great big brassy horn section. On first listen, it sounds frankly unnatural and absurd. So much is done to deviate from the original tune and arrangement during the introductory seconds in particular that it's hard to even hear what it has in common with Dylan's song, and it's only when a chipper version of the chorus kicks in that you're able to connect the dots. By the second listen, however, it's a pure joy to listen to, a cover version attempted in the spirit of all the best ones, using the original track as a springboard for different arrangements rather than a score to idly copy from. Some may scream "Sacrilege!", but it's actually no more or less of a deviation from Dylan's first recording than The Byrds attempted.

The fun doesn't stop there, either. The B-side "Soul Sahara" is a thing of wonder, with Johnson whooping and hollering his way through a funky backbeat and horn section as he forcefully takes us through a history of that thing we call soul, with all its accompanying sub-genres. That neither side seems to get played very often in clubs (unlike the group's hits) is a missed opportunity in my book - "Soul Sahara" has such a furious insistence that it's impossible to stay still while it's playing, whereas "Tambourine Man" is a wonderful talking point.

And all this gets me wondering - has there ever been a song which has attracted a more varied array of covers than "Mr Tambourine Man"?

The Amboy Dukes [UK] - Judy In Disguise/ Who's Foolin' Who/ Simon Says/ The Marquis

Label: Polydor

Year of Release: 1967

Cratediggers the length and breadth of the UK have regularly been confused by the fact that there were two Amboy Dukes releasing records at around roughly the same time. The one most people will keenly be searching out is obviously the US Garage Group featuring Ted Nugent, but there was also a British soul/ ska outfit sharing the moniker. 

Still, record collectors chancing a spare pound or two on the British group will very rarely go home disappointed. Many of their 45s - and they did gain quite a brace of releases on Polydor due to their strong reputation on the live circuit - are actually pretty nifty. The real prize of the pack, which tends to go for quite hard cash, is "High Life In Whitley Wood", a ska song about a housing estate in Reading which mentions various local facilities (such as the by-pass) in a joyous fashion. This is on my personal "wants" list.

But even their management's utterly cynical attempts at carving hit singles for the group contained gems on the flip side. The Amboys were given "Judy In Disguise" on the false understanding that the original version wouldn't otherwise be gaining a release in the UK. We all know what balderdash that proved to be, and sadly the group's sales suffered. Buried on the B-side, though, is a version of Arthur Conley's "Who's Foolin' Who" which is fine stuff indeed, and evidence of their powerful live sound.

Label: Polydor

Year of Release: 1968

And if at first you don't succeed, try again… and with much the same format and results as before. The version of "Simon Says" on offer here is frankly nothing to write home about, but once again, if you flip the side over you get a more remarkable B-side. "The Marquis" has become a northern soul spin in recent years and is as smooth as an eel, all prowling basslines and dramatic brass stings. 

Talking about the membership of the group is hard work, as they went through numerous different line-ups and at any given time seemed to have a cast of thousands. Nonetheless, by the point of these recordings it seems that the group consisted of the following:

Dave Kislingberry (Vocals)
Trevor Lock (Guitar)
Pete Howard (Bass Guitar)
Mick Jerome (Drums)
Rod Lee (Trumpet)
Steve Gregory (Tenor Sax & Flute)
Buddy Beadle (Baritone & Alto sax)

Steve Gregory went on to play the saxophone on George Michael's "Careless Whisper" - probably one of the most known pieces of popular saxophony after the work of not-Bob Holness on "Baker Street". Trevor Lock is now in "Magic", a Queen tribute band. Pete Howard became a sound engineer at the BBC, but sadly passed away in 2007. The whereabouts of the rest is slightly unclear.

The Zippers - My Sailor Boy/ Pretend You're Still Mine

Label (when issued): Hickory
Year of Release: 1964

You wait four years for an acetate to show up on "Left and to the Back", then two come along at once. Either I've suddenly become a very wealthy man, or I've managed to find a cheap source for a couple (guess which. It shouldn't be hard).

I'm afraid I've only managed to draw complete blanks about The Zippers, who would seem to be an all-female group from America with definite soul leanings. This was their only British single, but what a single it is - "My Sailor Boy" on the A-side is raw, ragged but decidedly Pop, and fizzes with energy and enthusiasm. With some records, false bonhomie creeps through the sterility of the slick production and multiple takes and ruins the potential energy of a track, but this genuinely sounds like unsuppressed gusto.

The B-side "Pretend You're Still Mine", on the other hand, is a brilliantly performed ballad in the style many retro-leaning female singers of the present day would applaud. It's brooding and very well sung, but once again there's a sense that this is a fairly immediate, quick recording of a great performance.

A lot of soul records belly-flopped in the UK on their first issue - including some Motown ones which are now legendary - and this seems to be yet another disc which didn't find a mainstream audience at the time. Regrettable, as I'd like to have heard more from this lot. Excuse the pops and clicks again, but an acetate of this age is never going to be in tip-top condition.

Johnny Johnson & The Bandwagon - Mr Tambourine Man/ Soul Sahara

Label: Bell
Year of Release: 1971

Johnny Johnson and The Bandwagon, rather like Geno Washington, were an American soul act who had far greater success in the UK. "Breaking Down The Walls of Heartache" was a number four hit in 1968 - even though, given its subsequent influence and club plays, it feels as if it should have climbed even higher than that - and whilst the original line-up of The Bandwagon failed to last into the seventies, Johnson was keen to continue to capitalise on his success outside of the States.

A whole variety of other singles were issued, including the top ten hits "Sweet Inspiration" and "(Blame It) On The Pony Express", shortly before this one was issued to public indifference. Your eyes aren't deceiving you - it is indeed a soulful rendition of the Dylan/ Byrds classic, complete with sweat, intensity and a great big brassy horn section. On first listen, it sounds frankly unnatural and absurd. So much is done to deviate from the original tune and arrangement during the introductory seconds in particular that it's hard to even hear what it has in common with Dylan's song, and it's only when a chipper version of the chorus kicks in that you're able to connect the dots. By the second listen, however, it's a pure joy to listen to, a cover version attempted in the spirit of all the best ones, using the original track as a springboard for different arrangements rather than a score to idly copy from. Some may scream "Sacrilege!", but it's actually no more or less of a deviation from Dylan's first recording than The Byrds attempted.

The fun doesn't stop there, either. The B-side "Soul Sahara" is a thing of wonder, with Johnson whooping and hollering his way through a funky backbeat and horn section as he forcefully takes us through a history of that thing we call soul, with all its accompanying sub-genres. That neither side seems to get played very often in clubs (unlike the group's hits) is a missed opportunity in my book - "Soul Sahara" has such a furious insistence that it's impossible to stay still while it's playing, whereas "Tambourine Man" is a wonderful talking point.

And all this gets me wondering - has there ever been a song which has attracted a more varied array of covers than "Mr Tambourine Man"?

(And whilst I realise we're in danger of drowning in asides and sentences starting with "and" at this point, apologies to The Lord of The Boot Sale who I know damn well uploaded both this one and Ginger Ale's "Sugar Suzy" not long ago. It would seem as if our purchasing habits are crossing over at the moment, but I'm sure we'll deviate wildly again soon).

Five Flights Up - Do What You Wanna Do/ Black Cat

Label: Bell
Year of Release: 1970

I have a general rule on "Left and to the Back", which is that if a track seems to be commercially available as an mp3 download already, I won't upload it in full. This is one reason why soul records, however obscure, tend not to get featured here. Almost all of the legitimate online sources for music are stuffed to the gills with soul tracks nobody cared about at the time, but have suddenly decided to start listening to now.

Examples where the usual situation has been flipped are incredibly rare to come by, but with Five Flights Up we may have just found the odd fish, the rum old exception to the rule. Back in 1970, this single was popular enough to get to number 37 in the Billboard pop charts, and has since disappeared into the ether. Google searches reveal nothing apart from people asking where the hell they can obtain a copy from (to a bemused silence) and radio airplay is apparently also impossible to come by these days. If nothing else, it's interesting to know that some US hits of yore suffer the same problem as UK ones - it really feels as if they might as well have never existed.

In the case of "Do What You Wanna Do", that's a slight shame. It's a slick, neatly harmonised piece of soul which saw the quintet crossing over to a mainstream audience. Pleasant as it may be, however, it's the impassioned, Smokey Robinson styled yearning of "Black Cat" on the flipside which sets my motor running, with its haunting, swelling brass arrangements and tales of lost love. If somewhere in your mind's eye you can't see a sulking, broken man strolling down city backstreets with only the local neighbourhood feline for company, you clearly have no feelings to speak of. "Black Cat" is autumnal, cinematic and actually quite wonderful.

Sadly, neither side provoked any commercial interest in the UK, although apparently this record did get a moderate amount of plays on the Northern Soul circuit - but once again, clearly not enough plays to warrant an inclusion on any of the usual compilations. Maybe the subtlety of the disc ultimately proved to be its undoing, but it certainly doesn't make it a bad record, and I for one would quite like to put forward the case for its revival.

FACT: When I spun this record at The Boogaloo bar in North London at the point when most people had drifted off home, the resident black cat strolled in front of the DJ booth just as the opening lines were delivered. Only one person noticed.