THE IVEYS: MAYBE TOMORROW (1969)
1) See-Saw, Granpa; 2)
Beautiful And Blue; 3) Dear Angie; 4) Think About The Good Times; 5) Yesterday
Ain't Coming Back; 6) Fisherman; 7) Maybe Tomorrow; 8) Sali Bloo; 9) Angelique;
10) I'm In Love; 11) They're Knocking Down Our Home; 12) I've Been Waiting;
13*) No Escaping Your Love; 14*) Mrs. Jones; 15*) And Her Daddy's A
Millionnaire; 16*) Looking For My Baby.
Curiously enough, Pete Ham's Badfinger actually
spent more time playing as The Iveys — they were known under that name as early
as 1964, when they were still mostly doing small gigs around Swansea, although
back then, Ham was still the only member to remain as part of the classic
lineup (it is a bit ironic, though,
that he'd actually been out on the scene almost as long as the band itself that
was supposed to nurture and foster Badfinger). But throughout the mid-1960s,
the band never found its proper way to a recording contract until the
(mis)fortune of contacting Apple Records; and as «The Iveys», they only
released one sole LP, which, furthermore, never even had any UK or US
distribution, being limited to Germany, Italy, and Japan. (Yes, Badfinger's
streak of bad luck was already there even before they got themselves their
name).
There is not much to say about this album,
really, since seven of its twelve songs would eventually be incorporated into Magic Christian Music, undergoing only
a cosmetic remixing job along the way. The very fact that it did get a limited
CD release in the early 2000s, remastered, repackaged, and with bonus tracks,
is somewhat surprising and goes to show the serious amount of reverence for
these guys that some music lovers still hold (good for them). On the other
hand, the release was not a total waste, since it adds one more informative
stroke to the exciting story of Badfinger's musical evolution.
It is usually assumed that, in creating the
running order for Magic Christian Music,
the band took what they considered the best of these early Iveys tunes, and
left out the dreck. This is not quite the case — the «rejects» were not awful,
they just represented additional directions that they were unable to explore
properly and convincingly. Or at least, they themselves must have thought that
at the time.
Probably the most telling example is Ham's
«epic» mindset on ʽI've Been Waitingʼ, an experiment in heavy progressive
blues-rock à la early Deep Purple /
Led Zeppelin, with lengthy distorted guitar solos, brutally aggressive drum
bashing, and an acid smokescreen — the new-look Badfinger wouldn't get thus
«terrifying» again until Ass. But
they do not have a chance to leave their own imprint on the basic melody here
(borrowed firstand off ʽMilk Cow Bluesʼ), and the heavy-psycho instrumental jam
section can hardly be too exciting if it competes in the same line of duty as,
say, Led Zep's ʽDazed And Confusedʼ.
Other unlucky rejects include: ʽYesterday Ain't
Coming Backʼ — a loud, anthemic ballad with a quintessential «UK Nuggets» spirit, maybe discarded
because it reminded them too much of all those other Brit bands; ʽThink About The Good Timesʼ — an upbeat, but
slightly «hushed» pop-rocker with a funky wah-wah guitar arrangement, maybe
discarded because they eventually got afraid of the wah-wah (again, the only
time they would later use that effect freely would be on the heavy arrangements
for Ass); ʽSali Blooʼ — lumbering
blues-pop that is neither heavy enough nor memorable; and the triumphant
power-pop opener ʽSee-Saw, Granpaʼ, which they could, perhaps, see as way too simplistic and happy (but maybe
not).
(The CD reissue adds a few early outtakes as
well, even more heavily derivative of contemporary acts — The Kinks, The Move,
The Small Faces etc. — all of them kinda cute and cuddly, but the final
denominator still remains Manfred Mann: dedicated copycat practice without a
face of one's own, only The Iveys happened to lack Manfred Mann's sole serious
advantage — musical professionalism. They did well to restrict these harmless,
forgettable pastiches to B-sides).
All in all, you are not missing much if you
already have Magic Christian Music,
but you will not harm your ears, either, if you take a brief listen to these
scattered remainders. It doesn't hurt to condescendingly pat somebody on the
head for diligently doing their homework on Led Zep and Manfred Mann, and it is
also fun to realize that, before getting into real close contact with The
Beatles, The Iveys never even attempted to model their sound upon the Fab Four
— apparently, there must have been some heavy «Beatles-conditioning» in the air
of Apple Records.
No comments:
Post a Comment