The Sheldons - Wonderful Land/ The Shark

German take on The Shads on an American issue 45

Label: Philips

Year of Release: 1962

I regularly stumble across people (passionate music fans among them) who try to argue that The Shadows were a supremely naff group with no redeeming qualities. They're wrong, obviously, and I normally rush to recommend "Wonderful Land" to them as the first case for the defence - and God knows there's a long list of other singles besides, including the wah-wah festooned "Scotch On The Socks" which I used to enjoy DJ'ing so people could race over to me to ask who it was by. 

"Wonderful Land", though, sits high up on the tree as one of their biggest hits and most delightful sounds, being somehow simultaneously exultant and sad. Hank Marvin's yearning twanged notes and the gentle orchestra behind him seem to be pining for something that doesn't really exist - an idea of something better - rather than being present and content in the moment. The band appeared to have arrived at the title by happenstance; when one of the group commented to songwriter Jerry Lordan that it "sounded like America", another member added that it seemed like a "wonderful land", and this vague, idealistic impression of a free utopia is, by accident or design, carried right through the mood of the record. The fact it emerged just prior to the beat boom perhaps also unintentionally underlined why a change had to happen - Britain needed to feel good about itself and its own take on American ideas, not pine for far-away lands as offering an answer. 

And anyway, America didn't care for this particular love letter, or indeed most of our musical love letters prior to The Beatles. Very few people over there bought the single (issued on Atlantic) which left the ground clear for someone else to have a crack at that market with the same tune. The mysterious Sheldons, who recorded this in Germany, thus stepped forward to have another go.

Countdown to Christmas Party Time - Marvin Welsh Farrar - Tiny Robin

Label: Regal Zonophone

Year of Release: 1971

Two thirds of Marvin Welch Farrar have already featured on this blog's "Pictures of Marshmallow Men" homebrew compilation, so some of you will already be familiar with the backstory here. Essentially, MWF were just two members of The Shadows attempting to issue vocal material under another name, with the addition of the previously unknown John Farrar. Although largely thought of as an instrumental act, The Shads themselves had occasionally sung on their discs before, but found the public less willing to accept this kind of output - so for the most part, it would appear they decided to draw the boundaries by issuing any material with those things called "lyrics" in it under this guise.

In all honesty, it's probably not what you'd expect. Rather than follow Cliff Richard's lead, it would seem that the band had something of a love affair with West Coast harmonies, and most of their vocal material almost had lovebeads hanging off its Crosby Stills and Nash inspired middle eights. This single showcases their approximation of this style across two sides - "Lady of the Morning" is the less interesting tune (albeit the official A side) in my opinion, consisting of a rather slight melody despite some pleasing bits of pedal steel and top-hole vocal harmonies. The chorus doesn't seem to quite reach any sort of satisfactory peak or conclusion for one thing. "Tiny Robin", on the other hand, is all icicles, plucked guitar strings, spooked vocal melodies, and is a seriously good atmospheric piece. Admittedly it's not really in the same league as The Fleet Foxes for this kind of 'vibe', but surely the fact that we're mentioning Hank Marvin and The Fleet Foxes in the same context is a curious enough phenomenon in itself?

Naturally, although one Marvin Welch Farrar album did manage to chart very modestly, the public's curiosity wasn't really poked, and the project died a death before the seventies were up. Hank Marvin felt that they were alienating an audience who just wanted to hear Shadows material, and failing to gain an adequate new audience who wouldn't accept the idea that what they were doing was in any way credible. As a result, they're not talked about much now, despite having recorded a few tracks any number of Wilson-worshipping indie kids would have killed to pen. It's an unfair world, but at least we can only conclude that it's also certainly an odd one.

(This blog entry was originally uploaded in December 2009).  

You can buy these tracks through the usual commercial sources, and listen to Tiny Robin on Youtube. Is it really a "Christmas" record as such?  It is if I want it to be.  So there.