Sir Sidney Saitheswaite And The Garbage Collectors - I Like Knees/ Tea Lovely Tea

Absurd Bonzos-esque meditation on the wonderfulness of knees

Label: Parlophone

Year of Release: 1967

Given the stunning number of Bonzos inspired singles I've managed to unearth over the years, anybody would think that they were the leading lights of the late sixties rather than something of a cult concern. This, though, is possibly a stupendously silly prince among them.

Backed with the typical jauntiness of a Roaring Twenties music hall ditty, the lyrics of "I Like Knees"   are part fetishistic in a Victorian way ("Everybody likes to see a ladies' knees!"), part ridiculous ("Vote for knees on election day!") and delivered with the kind of prim enthusiasm usually only reserved for a major royal event. The combination of the lead singer's posh accent and the over-the-top delivery is both infectious and hilarious, and makes for a humdinger of a single, not entirely dissimilar in tone to the world of "The Ladies' Bras" but a lot less brief.

The B-side isn't bad either, focusing its attention instead on cups of tea, making this possibly the most stereotypically English 45 put out even in the late sixties when it had plenty of competition. Barring the questionable Indian accent towards the end which nobody would get away with now, it's another pearl - "Tea, tea, is utterly lovely/ it builds empires/ and puts out fires" we are informed, which I suppose is technically correct but water would do the job just as well. 

Andwella - Are You Ready/ People's People

Driving and stomping rocker from Northern Ireland

Label: Reflection

Year of Release: 1970

The group Andwella's Dream are probably well known to most psychedelic collectors, having produced the absurdly rare and highly sought after "Love and Poetry" LP for CBS in 1969. Progressive and often bordering on heavy, the record has since been reissued on a number of occasions.

Their post-CBS career has been less well appreciated and explored, however, and that's possibly because it's simply not as daring or interesting. Perhaps learning from the fact that the more challenging aspects of their sound caused their sales to stay low, they stripped out the embellishments  and became a poppier proposition. 

I can understand that this sounds like appalling news, but actually some of their singles are slamming little affairs, not least this one which sounds like Wings before Wings were ever actually "a thing". Stomping, leaden beats combine with confident, joyous vocals and slamming guitar chords, and only a slightly dull production stands in the way of the record entirely succeeding. Strain your ears, and you can almost hear the glam rock storm coming over the horizon.

Andwella - or Andwella's Dream if you prefer - at this point consisted of  Dave Lewis on guitar, piano, organ and vocals, Dave Struthers on bass and vocals, and Jack McCulloch (of Thunderclap Newman fame) on drums. The group managed three LPs in their career. Besides the acclaimed "Love and Poetry" on CBS were "World's End" and "People's People" on Reflection, which sold slightly better than their debut but only by incremental levels. 

Reupload - Reparata - Your Life Is Gone/ Octopus's Garden

The most OTT death disc ever backed with Starr's finest. You can't lose. 

Label: D'art

Year of Release: 1976

I wrote quite a bit about Reparata, of Reparata and the Delrons fame, in this blog entry where I covered the utterly magnificent "Shoes", which existed like a mongrelised version of girl group pop, glam, and Roxy art-rock. It's one of the finest pop accomplishments of 1975, certainly, and only weird legal issues surrounding its release have prevented it from becoming far better known.

While "Shoes" flopped in 'real' terms, it created enough interest in Reparata's solo career for the small indie D'Art (or Dart, as they now seemed to be known) to reissue some stuff from their vaults in 1976. And what an odd reissue it is too, with it consisting of her Octopus's Garden/ Your Life Is Gone single from 1972 with the sides flipped.

Someone at the label clearly realised that their best shot at following up the art-pop of "Shoes" was the rather ace death disc styled number "Your Life Is Gone" which had previously been hidden under the jolly Beatles cover somewhat like a collection of writhing earthworms under a rock. While it's not an original idea by any means, the track takes the basic premise of "Leader of the Pack" and "Terry" and seriously ups the ante, adding car smash noises and ambulance sirens (and, for some reason, a sitar) to the mix. "Can't go on much longer!" wails Reparata. "Soon they'll have to put me away!", then the sound of crunching metal follows soon afterwards. As OTT as it sounds, the pleading melody is very faithfully and beautifully done. It's the kind of track retro revivalists such as The Pipettes might have turned their attention to in the noughties, had anyone involved in that project wanted to inject some black humour into the proceedings.

Thor Baldursson - Arlene Chatreaux/ The Tin Soldier Painter

Gentle Icelandic popsike of the folky kind

Label: Decca

Year of Release: 1967

While Iceland is arguably one of the most culturally engaged nations in Europe (possibly even on Earth?) with its absurdly high literacy levels, enviable number of writers and artists, and thousands of all-round general everyday dabblers, their music hasn't always exported well. Prior to Bjork and The Sugarcubes in 1987, and bands and artists like Bellatrix, Sigur Ros, GusGus and Mum who rushed through once they pushed through the bracken, there was... not much that sold outside the country's borders, actually. Thor's Hammer went through a period of producing some fantastic mod-pop barnstormers in the mid-to-late sixties which really should have sold well in the UK, but the fact they were never officially released here put paid to that.

That wasn't true of all Iceland's performers, though. Thor Baldursson couldn't have been less like those Nordic purveyors of Freakbeat, and had a much more subtle, threadbare, contemplative folky take on the world. Perhaps this gentleness made him seem like a safer proposition for Decca, who issued this, his solitary British 45.

The flipside has started to generate a bit of interest among psychedelic collectors for its "popsike" subject matter and qualities. Sure enough, "The Tin Soldier Painter" ticks most of the toytown bingo boxes, lyrically referencing childish hobbies, organ grinders, and strange men with bric-a-brac shops. The fey, gentle, cheery melody is also undercut with a faint sense of mournful doubt as well, which is another definite plus. Overall, though, Thor's delivery is too deep, gravelly and sincere to completely place it in the middle of a technicolour village fete or fayre.

I actually prefer the rather more ignored A-side "Arlene Chatreaux" which is a pretty, well-arranged ballad Thor handles with the right degree of subtlety and charm. Far too threadbare and seriously folky to chart, its lain neglected for a bit too long. At some moments, the orchestration lends the track a feel not entirely dissimilar to early Nick Drake, which is a serious plus point.

Adam Mike and Tim - Flowers On The Wall/ Give That Girl A Break

For those about to self-isolate, we salute you

Label: Columbia

Year of Release: 1966

The unimaginatively named Adam, Mike and Tim - who, for a period, were actually Tim-less, having a man called Peter on entirely fraudulent Timothy duties instead - began their recording careers by taking a beat pop direction with their debut 45 "Little Baby" in 1964 before taking a folk rock tack.

Perhaps they knew they were playing to their strengths. With their impeccable vocal harmonies and homespun rustic charm, the trio managed to be both vaguely hip and earthy but also ideal slick, professional filler on TV and radio. Blessed with a large number of "Thank Your Lucky Stars" appearances and some airplay in the UK, they must have seemed likely to have a hit through their continual media presence alone.

As it turns out, the public were broadly indifferent to their records, and even when they recorded an extraordinarily prescient and sitar-drenched cover of the Paul Simon track "A Most Peculiar Man" in April 1966, they remained sidelined. That would prove to be their final recorded effort.

Their fourth single, however, was an utterly ace cover of the Statler Brothers track "Flowers On The Wall" which imitated the harmonies of the original with pin-point accuracy, but also added a certain frantic and sardonic rush, making this for me by far the better version. Gone are the finger-pluckin' hoe-down vibes, and in place is a stomping piece of sardonic Brit-folk.

Numerous people have pointed out that lying behind the chirpiness of "Flowers On The Wall" is clearly the tale of one individual driven to isolation, madness and denial by the world around them. The line "Playing solitaire with a deck of 51" is probably the ultimate give-away - the insinuation that someone is playing without a full deck doesn't need to be spelt out. Perhaps in these times of Coronavirus and self-isolation, though, a new meaning could be brought to the song, though I doubt we'll be so desperate that we'll be watching "Captain Kangeroo" to pass the time.

Steven Lancaster - San Francisco Street/ Miguel Fernando Stan Sebastian Brown

Optimistic Shel Talmy produced British popsike exploring the idea that anywhere can be San Francisco really...

Label: Polydor

Year of Release: 1967

Throughout 1967, San Francisco seemed to be sold to non-residents as a utopian ideal, the peace-loving place of hippies, beatniks, oddballs and the kids of the future. These days, it's an impossibly expensive place to live and a strong city to invest in some prime hillside real-estate. Somewhere in between those two moments, the hippy drug comedown produced a degree of crime, chaos and vagrancy amongst the idealistic thinking. Beware anyone selling you utopia, kids. Eventually, you end up paying for it. Hey, why do you think I can't afford to live in Walthamstow anymore?

Steven Lancaster here - actually songwriter Len Moseley, who later went on to join and write for Wild Silk - was perhaps more philosophically minded about the situation, keen to inform listeners that in fact, San Francisco could be created anywhere, whether you had the money for a plane ticket or an apartment. All you need (besides love) was the will to let it exist and let your own state of mind form that community. 

While Moseley had clearly never visited Ilford, it's an optimistic thought that permeates through this dash of popsike convincingly. Shel Talmy was on production duties to give the track his usual masterly oversight, but instead of the usual guitar crunching, feedback and distortion, he opted for a more subdued approach here. The end result is sweet, simple, and completely in keeping with the zeitgeist of the times, but possibly lacking enough of a memorable melody line to enter the Top 40.

Reupload - Academy/ Polly Perkins - Munching The Candy/ Rachel's Dream

Uh-oh. Dot Cotton's sister off "Eastenders" has been taking special tablets. Someone alert Doctor Legg.

Label: Morgan Blue Town

Year of Release: 1969

Life wasn't easy for independent labels in the sixties, and Morgan was no exception. Constantly dealing with shambolic distribution networks, very few of them scored hits. President Records broke the mould in the later part of the decade, but Joe Meek's struggles with Triumph and the financial struggles experienced by Strike Records spoke volumes about the hurdles many truly independent businesses had to deal with.

Far from being just an independent label, though, Morgan was also a large and well-respected recording studio in North London, with an in-house session team of musicians and songwriters who regularly bypassed the Morgan label and licensed their product to majors (The Smoke's "My Friend Jack" probably being the most famous example). The best Morgan recordings, such as those by The Smoke, Bobak Jons Malone and Fortes Mentum, were compiled on a superb Sanctuary Records release called "House of Many Windows" some years ago. This is now out-of-print, but copies are well worth tracking down - the team had developed a distinctive and actually incredibly agreeable sound by the late sixties, filled with tricksy and classical inspired arrangements, a low-end bass fuzz, and peculiar woozy but nonetheless poppy psychedelia. Whereas a lot of other psychedelic pop of the period sounded like the melodic equivalent of cheap Christmas cracker toys, Morgan took their mission seriously - in anyone else's hands, a track like Fortes Mentum's "Saga of a Wrinkled Man" would have possibly sounded cheap and nasty. Not for no reason did one prominent Morgan man Will Malone go on to become the arranger for The Verve in the nineties (and it is just about possible to hear the similarities if you really try).

Morgan Blue Town was an incredibly short-lived offshoot of the main label which attempted to reposition their product in a more progressive vain, appealing to the hippy and student markets. Any recordings on the label tend to be hopelessly scarce now, including this single by actress, Ready Steady Go compere and singer Polly Perkins.

This is actually a somewhat threadbare inclusion to their usually heavily produced catalogue. Polly Perkins had failed to score any hit singles in her music career, but was nonetheless a "known name" at this point who had already put out some commercial sounding grooves - so her sudden shift to progressive sounding music must have seemed bizarre at the time, a bit like Twinkle suddenly going a bit way-out and boarding the weed bus to rural Cambridgeshire. Nonetheless, "Munching The Candy" is a very folky, campfire effort which nods and winks in the direction of naughty drug-taking behaviour. "Rachel's Dream", on the other hand, is a rather more epic B-side which considers the plight of the Jewish people. No, really.

John Carter - One More Mile To Freedom/ The Saddest Word I Know

Top songwriter breaks out on his own to produce sophisticated seventies pop

Label: Spark

Year of Release: 1972

John Carter. How many times have we talked about the man on "Left and to the Back"? Well, we mentioned him as recently as Sunday in relation to Solent's "My World Fell Down". With partners such as Ken Lewis and Gillian Shakespeare, he was an extraordinarily prolific songwriter throughout the sixties and seventies, and in common with most melody peddlers, had far more flops to his name than hits as he toyed, tweaked and speculated with sounds in order to accumulate.

Seldom did he strike out and record under his own name, though "Laughing Man", his duet with fellow writer Russ Alquist, is probably one of my favourite psychedelic era obscurities. This one, "One More Mile To Freedom", is the chalkiest of chalk against that particular Brie, though, being a much more considered, serious attempt at sophisticated seventies pop without a whiff of marijuana induced silliness in the room. 

Rather, "One More Mile To Freedom" is strident, triumphant and epic, sounding like something you'd put on your car stereo shortly after quitting the worst job of your life. Once again, it proves that Carter had the enviable ability to shift and change genres and styles to suit the era's demands. 

Solent - My World Fell Down/ The Sound of Summer's Over

Faithful but slightly modernised, de-psyched version of the Sagittarius song

Label: Decca

Year of Release: 1973

The fact that the John Carter and Geoff Stephens penned "My World Fell Down" failed to chart when issued by The Ivy League is probably one of the great injustices of the sixties. Seldom has one song approximated the West Coast sound so faithfully and so well, and with such a sumptuous melody, only to fall by the wayside.

It was improved upon further in 1967 by Americans Sagittarius, who fleshed its sound out further still with disorientating sound effects which seemed to be knowing nods to Brian Wilson's Smile sessions, all acting as the cherry on the top of an utterly superb song. That fared somewhat better, climbing to number 70 in the US Charts, but its failure to become a significant hit doomed the track into being swept up by Nuggets, Rubble and other rarities compilations in the decades down the line. 

Whoever Solent were - that's not entirely clear, though someone called "Bobby S" has claimed vocal duties over on the 45Cat website - they obviously couldn't believe the song's lack of luck, and had another crack at it. This time round, the song is given a politer, smoother mix and almost more nostalgic, sorrowful harmonies. The track by now seems to be harking back to a sixties surfing shoreline as a distant memory (not that such things were that common in the UK to begin with) and the flipside adds to that mournful air, asking very gently where those surfing summers went to. "Don't worry baby" one of the singers sighs, and you almost get the sense they're mopping Brian Wilson's brow, trying to get him down to the south coast of the UK to work his magic. 

Katch 22 - It's Soft Rock & Allsorts It's Katch 22 (LP)

It's mostly Soft Rock with some pleasing harmonies though, let's be honest. 

Label: Saga
Year of Release: 1968

Sleevenotes: "The Katch 22 have built up a tremendous following during 1967 and this album has been produced in appreciation of the great demand from you, their fans, to hear more of this talented young group.

Four of the twelve tracks featured in the album were written by the KATCH, I like "Thoughts On A Rainy Day" for its sweet simplicity, and in contrast, "There Ain't No Use In Hangin' On" which the boys feature in their stage act, is a fantastic 'knee-shaker' full of the tremendous vitality which KATCH fans have come to recognise as being a trade-mark of the group.

The boys have asked me to thank Richard Hartley for helping out on the arrangement. Richard is a member of "Fire", another group handled by TokeNam Aw who produced this brilliant showcase for the KATCH's exceptional talent, and also produces the group's singles.

As KATCH 22's agent and friend, I have been in association with them for quite a while and I'm convinced that they have the elusive star quality which will take them to the top - and where else more appropriate for such a 'KATCHY' group."

John Edward.

As I've mentioned before, Saga were a well-known budget label, perhaps most famed for their cut-price classical LPs and brass band discs rather than the kind of output which really shook the room. Nonetheless, towards the end of the decade they had the idea of booking in a few groups into cheap recording studios, figuring that there was (quite literally) hungry talent out there to be exploited and no real reason why the budget market shouldn't cater for pop music fans as well.

Saga's deals were so threadbare - usually involving a one-off payment for the groups in question and no royalties - that it's hard to imagine why anyone would have put their hat in the ring, however desperate they were. While none of the few pop and rock LPs that slipped out during this brief period are lost classics, they do contain some interesting ideas and a few genuinely stellar songs. "Moonbeams" by the Magic Mixture (recorded in an infant's school hall) is a neat, spacey track which manages to recall Joe Meek and sound like of-the-moment psychedelia simultaneously, and the "Five Day Week Straw People" concept LP is a charmer in general.

Katch 22's LP is perhaps the biggest selling and most unexpected of the bundle. As the sleevenotes suggest, Brixton's Katch 22 - or THE KATCH in block caps, as their agent seemed to wish to refer to them - were a fairly serious proposition at this point, felt by some music critics to be poised for success. What did they want with a budget LP label?

There are two answers to this question. The first is probably "quick and easy access to money" (in other words, the same reason Elton John had dalliances with budget labels later on) and secondly, a long player with a full colour sleeve in the wire racks at Woolworths at a cut-down price, recorded quickly but professionally, probably allowed them more promotion than a few flop 45s in the remainder bin. At a low, low price, there's no doubt this also attracted buyers who wouldn't have touched Katch 22 product on impulse at the full whack.

And what did they get for their money? Well, an LP that's competent and pleasant enough to accompany your tea and toast on a Sunday afternoon, but certainly won't shake your house's foundations. The terribly titled "It's Soft Rock and Allsorts It's Katch 22" (which competes with Giorgio Moroder's "That's Bubblegum, That's Giorgio!" for the Most Sloppy and Literal Album Title Of All Time award) does at least prepare you for what's up ahead. The group are slick, keen, professional musicians who specialise in rich vocal harmonies and tranquil takes on numerous West Coast pop hits.

Shop Around

The Discogs shop is still open, readers, and the stock is growing all the time.

I usually put new stock online every weekend (if I have time!) and the best bargains tend to fly off the "shelves" (or the wooden boxes in my house) before the end of the day, so it's worth being quick on your feet. I'll often sell in-demand ultra-rarities at bargain prices in order to ensure a quick sale. A household clear-out is the name of the game, so if you keep watching, you might get lucky.

What's left is the kind of assortment of goodies and curios you'd expect from a blog like "Left and to the Back", and there's probably something in there you'd either be proud to own or have been seeking out for awhile. So pay the store a visit - sooner or later, it's going to have something you want. 

Reupload - What Four - Stop In The Name Of Love/ Asparagus

Demented garage rock, and yes, the B-side is about the all-American goodness of that vegetable - though I think it's a satire on "squares" and "straights"

Label: Tower

Year of Release: 1968

Once every so often I stumble upon a sixties garage punk single that really causes me to pull "WTF?" faces. This shouldn't happen often, of course... I've been around the block enough times to realise that a lot of garage singles are highly bizarre artefacts, so I'm already prepared. But still, when I purchased this one, I felt sure that what I'd be getting was an uptempo, abrasive take on the Supremes classic. And what I got instead was...

Well, it's hard to describe this version of "Stop In The Name Of Love". The first listen to it is highly perplexing, as the band choose to make all the most quirky sounds at the places you'd least expect them. The "Think it over" segment of the original tune, for example, is the calm after the huge warning sign of the chorus. What Four instead place a clanking, pounding riff behind it that makes it sound like an extension of the chorus's hysteria, the next level up. This is not a pop song anymore, it's the noise of five railway barriers sounding off simultaneously through valve amplifiers.

I had hoped that this might be a good single to DJ with, but I suspect it might actually clear dance floors. It's not a bad record by any means, and I actually enjoy its peculiar elements hugely, it's just too irregular for most dancers to be able to make a connection with. I suspect the point of inspiration may have been Vanilla Fudge's version of "You Keep Me Hanging On", but "Stop" here is much more abrasive and stripped back.

The B-side "Asparagus" is possibly a bit more promising in the dance-floor department, being a proper uptempo garage pounder with layers of lyrical absurdity about accepting the universal goodness of American asparagus over the top. I suspect its a metaphor for the kind of meaningless middle-of-the-road demands made by "squares", readers. But the track has a loose, rhythmically simple enthusiastic drive behind it, akin to the kind of garage rock you might suspect Jack White would most enjoy.

Shirley & Johnny - Don't Make Me Over/ Baby Baby Baby

Slick Bacharach/David cover from sixties pop stalwarts with punchy flip

Label: Mercury

Year of Release: 1969

Shirley & Johnny are one of those sixties acts who had such considerable respect in the industry that they were allowed to pump out single after single without once ever reaching the Top 40. Nine in total came out across different labels (Philips, Parlophone, Mercury), but despite the chances they were given, sufficient progress was never really made.

The duo were an oddly conventional showbizzy affair by the standards of the era who were nonetheless very well-suited to cosy press stories. They consisted of a boyfriend/girlfriend couple (Shirley Bagnall and Johnny Francis) who periodically performed and recorded songs penned by Bagnall's father Richard, who had begun songwriting on a whim after taking an interest in his boy's career. This set-up might lead you to suspect that the pair weren't belting out proto-Freakbeat anthems, and you'd be utterly correct - Poppa Bagnall declared via a press release that "young people... like sentimental songs today just as we liked sentimental songs in my day" - but nonetheless, there was a consistent quality and occasional surprises lurking on most of their recordings. 

By the time this, their seventh release, hit the Woolworths stores of this green and pleasant land, old man Bagnall had seemingly been given the heave-ho and the pair went for the safe option of a Bacharach and David A-side. It's a sturdy, pleasant and pretty take on a song it's very difficult to ruin, and both have voices which are powerful and emotive enough to lend it a faintly new feel.

The flip is much more interesting, though - while it takes awhile to get moving, by the time it does you'll be swept along with its pounding insistence. It's not a radical departure, but it certainly sounds closer to American soul than anything else they tended to do. The track was also issued later in the year as an A-side by Sue Lynne whose slightly less commanding version can be heard here.  

Linda Kendrick - Sympathy for the Devil/ He Wrote Me A Letter

Flamboyant but brilliant and strangely rocking cover of the Stones classic

Label: Dawn

Year of Release: 1974

Make no mistake, "Sympathy For The Devil" was always a slightly camp track to begin with. For all its muscular grooves and guitar heroism, the very concept of Mick Jagger meeting with the smoky one for a conversation does have a faint whiff of pantomime about it.  Imagine the outcomes of that scenario and keep a straight face. 

Not everyone will agree with me, though, and the listeners who have been treating the track as the epitome of serious rock since the day they first heard it may not appreciate the take Linda Kendrick delivered in 1974. To my ears, though, this is magnificent and amps up the theatrical elements to a stunning degree. Beginning with a gospel choir (though the Stones were no strangers to those themselves) and then letting Kendrick run riot with the ultimate vampish performance, the entire track is renewed with a particularly Soho shade of menace. Linda's dramatic vocals are so superb it's almost impossible not to feel impish glee at the whole thing, and those sliding country guitars just add a touch of dramatic magic.

By 1974, she was no inexperienced new face, having already earned her stripes in the sixties gigging up and down the country with prime support spots to artists such as Dusty Springfield and Cilla Black, with a brace of singles on Polydor and Philips already behind her. This experience led to an acclaimed role in the long-running musical "Hair" where Kendrick's performances are still regarded favourably by those who saw them.  

Zenith - A Fool That Was In Love/ Silent Words

Sophisticated but well-written mid-seventies pop from ex-White Plains boys

Label: Dawn

Year of Release: 1975

Dawn was a perplexing label. Started by its parent label Pye as a home to more progressive and hippy-friendly artists (akin to EMI's Harvest or Decca's Deram) it started off on-spec with huge hits from the hairy festival jugband act Mungo Jerry and lesser-selling pieces of wonderfulness from more subdued acts such as Heron. Eventually, though, these beardy releases gave way to all manner of commercial rock and pop, including releases from The Glitter Band and Brotherhood of Man. 

This 45 definitely exists at the end of Dawn's catalogue marked "sophisticated pop". Only the stray sound of a sitar low in the mix shows any concessions to the label's past - the rest of the track is taken up with hooky choruses and zingy but breezy orchestral arrangements, having more in common with Edison's Lighthouse than anything likely to have got John Peel excited.

Still, it's deftly done, and certainly could have been a hit - the song is determined to make maximum impact, and pushes itself forward with hook after hook on top of a pristine arrangement. That possibly shouldn't be too surprising, given that the group were formed from the remains of White Plains, and their sound practically invented the slick, careful but potent 70s pop formula. 

Reupload - Buzz - The Digger on Mars/ Jubilee Rock

Fascinating bit of atmospheric proggy glam on the flip of a Silver Jubilee novelty 45

Label: Crystal

Year of Release: 1977

Another record with something unusual and interesting on the flip, and something utterly insubstantial on the A-side. The 1977 Silver Jubilee only really produced one single which anyone still talks about, and that's The Sex Pistols "God Save The Queen". There were others which took a much more positive tone, such as Neil Innes' seldom referenced (by him or anyone else) "Silver Jubilee", or a multitude of associated singles BBC Records and Tapes slipped out. None made any real impact with the public, and it might be tempting to think that's because we're a bunch of Republicans at heart, but I rather suspect it had more to do with the quality of the material on offer.

Take this A-side, for example, a forgettable piece of chugging pop-rock with some boy scouts and girl guides singing on it. It was surely intended as a joyous party record, but nobody involved sounds enthused enough to really carry it. The vocals alone sound like the work of somebody who was keen to get the whole business over and done with as quickly as possible.

The B-side gives us some clues as to why, and makes it apparent that this clearly wasn't a band whose ambitions lay with Royal event novelty tie-in singles. It sounds out-of-time for 1977 but also notable. Clearly taking its cues from both the David Bowie and Pink Floyd back catalogue, "The Digger On Mars" combines whizzing analogue synths, chugging Glam Rock guitars, and a surprisingly ambitious arrangement. Just when you think the song has settled into a knuckle-dragging, punchy glam rut, there's a superb middle-eight which sounds almost prog in its leanings, a "Dark Side of The Moon" inspired piece of spacey introspection. Then the drums burst in again, the song returns, and this time buzzes full-throttle into something much more minimal and repetitive and almost - but not quite - motorik. A three minute song of clear thirds, then, and the last thing on Earth you'd expect to find buried on the back side of a Royal Family tribute record.

Bear Foot - Frightened/ Girl Are You A Woman Now

Obscure, quirky one-off Pye 45 with slightly glam leanings

Label: Pye

Year of Release: 1971

Here's a puzzler. This single is listed by all other sources as being by the group "Bare Foot", but my copy - as you can plainly see - has been corrected with typed stickers to show that the group's name is actually "Bear Foot". This makes some kind of sense, I suppose. If "Bare Foot" is an awful and uninspiring band name, "Bear Foot" is at least a slightly rocky and acceptable pun by comparison.

I'm going to assume that these stickers and doodlings are indicative of a record company error and this was either the group or their management trying to cover up the mistake, because the alternative is that somebody falsely corrected it very carefully for no good reason at all, which seems pointless. That said, the sleeve this comes in has been vandalised so it says "Pye The Shit Makers" rather than "Pye The Hit Makers", so it's terribly hard to know what's the truth and what isn't. Was this the work of somebody who was particularly disgruntled with the label they were signed to, or the "doings" of a disaffected youth with a felt-tip pen, too much time on his or her hands and no youth club to go to? (Anyone who graffitis record labels for no good reason, particularly in ways designed to create confusion fifty years hence, should obviously be given community service at the very least in my opinion, possibly involving tidying up second hand record shops or something). 

Anyway, all this speculation over a trifling matter brings us no closer to the record itself. "Frightened" is a slightly quirky A-side which pre-empts the over-accentuated vowels and drawls of the artier side of glam rock. The horn and rhythm section underneath swings in a much more traditional way, though, and stops the track from truly weirding out. Likeable though it is, you're left with the impression that it could have pushed the boat out much further than it did. There's something here which is perfectly fine and an enjoyable listen, but hamstrung slightly by its rigid arrangement - the freak flag could have been flown a lot higher. 

Kracker - A Song For Polly/ Medicated Goo

If you thought only Rolling Stones members released records on the Rolling Stones record label, think again...

Label: Rolling Stones

Year of Release: 1973

Aside from occasional Keith Richards approved releases by Peter Tosh - man, Keith loves his "heavy, happy dudes" - the Rolling Stones record label was, as its name would suggest, mainly an outlet for group-related activities. If the band's name wasn't on the label, then it was usually a Bill Wyman solo project. 

This one-off single by Kracker on the label is a peculiar exception, though. The Stones had a strong interest in the Chicago based group, and after their debut LP "La Familia" came out on ABC Dunhill in 1972, approached them with an arrangement that the second would emerge on the then relatively new Rolling Stones label outside the USA, and the group would support The Stones on tour. Clearly hoping for a shot in the arm from the Jagger and Richards fraternity, Kracker keenly accepted, but watched as this single and the accompanying album "Kracker Brand" didn't really progress them any further ahead.

On reflection, there's nothing here to suggest that the group should have become world-beaters, and if the Rolling Stones were desperate to poach a group from a US label, one wonders why they picked on Kracker in particular. Nonetheless, "A Song For Polly" has a rattling, rolling rhythm and an anthemic quality which will definitely appeal to some readers. 

The B-side, though, is likely to be where most of the interest goes. The non-LP cover version of Traffic's "Medicated Goo" shows the band's skills off finely as they plough through the song with gusto. You're left with the impression that most of the appeal probably came from their abilities as a live act, and it's a shame it's often tough to judge that from their recorded work - but the flip gives one of the strongest impressions. 

Lucien Alexander - Baby You've Been On My Mind

Sweet and warm Dylan cover from mystery singer

Label: Polydor

Year of Release: 1967

Who would dare to count the number of Bob Dylan covers that littered the sixties, hits and non-hits alike? Some honourable attempts have been made to compile the best Bob covers on to single compilations, and a vinyl copy of "It Ain't Me Babe" sits proudly in my collection, pulled out on the rare occasions that I fancy hearing Bryan Ferry, Spirit, Johnny Cash and The Tremeloes in one sitting.  The obscurities, though? Would you want the job of rustling through every crate in the land past all the acetates of English folk groups and workshy beat combos plundering his songbook?

Nonetheless, "Baby You've Been On My Mind" is actually a good one-off obscurity by the mysterious Lucien Alexander, beautifully arranged, sweetly delivered and sounding distinctly like a possible summer hit. Unfortunately, given that it was issued in December 1967, that was never going to be.

The flip "Play Along (Miss R.)", here in a rather scuffed and scratchy guise - sorry kids - isn't significantly different, but has a slightly British Isles folk-rock feel to it. Think Al Stewart or David McWilliams at his least contemplative, and you're almost there.

Reupload - Carpetbaggers - Sorry/ Beautiful Gas

The Allied Carpets advert theme retooled for chart success (that never came). Strange Ron and Russ Mael influence on this version.

Label: Page One

Year of Release: 1982

Roger Greenaway is a hugely successful songwriter whose list of tracks would be the envy of anyone trying to get the public's ear. From "Something's Gotten Hold Of My Heart" to Andy Williams' under-praised "Home Lovin' Man", to the... er... unique novelty talents of The Pipkins, his abilities and work with Roger Cook often seemed effortless throughout the sixties and seventies.

Besides his attempts to crack the charts, he also had a successful career writing songs for television adverts, some of them among the most iconic jingles of the period. This is a two-sided single boasting two of his better known efforts retooled for home listening, released on the short-lived relaunched eighties version of the Page One label.

A-side "Sorry" is actually the music used by Allied Carpets to flog their wares to excited home improvers, and would usually be accompanied by the slogan "Allied for carpets for you". However, it's only in this rewritten seven inch guise with the corporate sponsorship removed that you realise how much the damn jingle sounded like a Sparks tribute. "Sorry" suffers from a slightly cheap, Rumbelows synthesiser production, but besides that the jerkiness of the arrangement, the wryness of the lyrics and the vocal stylings smack of Ron and Russ Mael. All this begs the question - how on earth did anyone in the marketing department think that a subtle reference to the Mael brothers might have put people in mind of luxury carpet fittings? Did Ron's hypnotic stare indirectly help to sell many a roll of quality feltback? Could he, even today, resuscitate the ailing fortunes of the carpet showroom and cause a shift away from the modern trend in wooden floorings and laminates? We may never find out.