Nuggets 2: Original Artyfacts From the British Empire and Beyond by Various Artists (Review)

I recommend you put a blindfold, throw away the liner notes, and listen to all of this fresh stuff.
Nuggets 2: Original Artyfacts From the British Empire and Beyond - Various

If you are like me, and have a “friend” who is troubled with an addiction to ’60s music, you might be witness to some strange behavior. For instance, have you ever caught him spending hours flipping through record bins, only to emerge gleefully with a Fur-hawks record? (What’s the matter? Don’t you know them? They were an obscure fur wearing Swedish group who released only one record in 1966. Duh!) Well, lucky for your friend, Rhino has put together a 4-CD, 130-song retrospective of some of the best under-played psych, garage, mod, soul, baroque-pop, and freakbeat of 1965 – 1968.

The only rule, with respect to 1998’s 4-CD Nuggets 1 of American “one-hit-wonders,” is that this set takes place in the U.K. (with smatterings of Eastern/Western Europe, South America, and Asia.) Although a few of these songs are well-worn classics already well known to even the most casual listeners of oldies stations (such as “Friday on my Mind” by The Easybeats), most are completely unfamiliar. For your friend this is a good thing — fresh meat! But, you might ask, why would someone want to dig through record bins for a few obscure ’60s songs (let alone 130)? Allow me, myself a friend of the distraught, to try and shed some light on the ’60s music addiction.

An explanation, as given to me by my friend who shall remain anonymous, lies first in acknowledging that the time period represented (’65-’68) was the most fertile period in rock history. Surely in the United States, there was some fantastic music — the folk-rock spawned by Dylan, the psychedelic barbershop of The Beach Boys, the prodigal sound-factory that was Motown, etc. But where would we be without the wonderful movement known as the British Invasion — the UK’s incredible contribution to the period — namely, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, and The Who (in that order — in my friend’s opinion). Yes, you might acknowledge, that was some good stuff — “Gimme Shelter,” “All You Need Is Love,” etc. — but why would someone really need to look beyond those groups?

The answer lies in accepting the joy your friend feels when they discover a new song to love. Isn’t it obvious that they can’t get enough of a good thing? I mean, they waited in line for each of the 3 volumes of the double-disc Beatles’ Anthologies! They gave you all of her favorite Kinks CDs just so they could buy the reissues of those same CDs with bonus tracks for herself. You might wonder, don’t they get the basic gist of The Beatles and Kinks enough with just the regular records? Are one or two unreleased songs really going to equate to her initial discovery of those bands anyway? Surely not. But you see, you need to accept that your friend has an addiction. Every discovery of a new song to love is accompanied by a mild feeling of elation, similar to finding a ten-dollar bill in a sports coat jacket.

It has been explained to me that one of the main reasons why The Beatles, Stones, Kinks, and Who were so great (in that order) is that they wrote really excellent songs. True, they were fashionable, looked cool on stage, and had star-quality personalities, but they happened to write their own songs and they were great (prior to this period in music, it was most common for the songwriter and the performer to be separate entities). A great song, such as “Waterloo Sunset” by The Kinks or The Who’s “I Can See For Miles,” looks great to a musician on a piece of sheet music. Likewise, it can sound great interpreted on just an acoustic guitar or solo piano. That’s just the way a great song works, and at the root of your friend’s peculiar condition is the need to devour fresh high-grade music with the appetite of a starved chihuahua. And since your friend has most probably already digested all of the most well known ’60s Invasion records, they are “forced” to move on to good stuff written and performed by other lesser-known artists from that same time and place.

You see, Lennon and McCartney were great songwriters, and great recording artists, but they did not have a monopoly on being able to do such tasks. They are simply representative of an upper tier of artists who achieved greatness on a more consistent basis and with greater resources. The Nuggets boxset is an effort to collect 130 songs specifically not by The Beatles, Stones, Kinks, and Who, but equivalent to that high level of songwriting. Consequently, many of the bands with multiple selections on this box set represent the second tier, i.e. bands that would have been big had it not been for The Big Four.

For example, selections on this set should not be missed by The Small Faces, The Creation, and The Pretty Things — bands whose material is so strong that I urge even casual fans of British Invasion music to investigate. For this reason I won’t be discussing them any further. However, the majority of the artists represented on this set represent the third tier of British Invasion bands — the “one-hit wonder” bands.

The compilers of this collection, truly suffering from the advanced stages of ’60s music addiction, have made every effort to look the other way as to how successful or fashionable the artist was, but rather include music purely on the song’s merit or the performance’s quality. And in my “friend’s” expert opinion, only between 15 and 25 of the 130 songs are Beatle-caliber, if you will. This low number makes it difficult to whole-heartedly recommend the purchase of this set. You, the consumer have to ask yourself, “would I purchase a CD if 15 percent of the material was brilliant, original stuff that I never would have otherwise known existed?” Well, I certainly would. I do it all the time.

OK, I admit it. I am the music junkie. You got me (I don’t have any friends…). And of the remaining material, 35 percent is interesting but nothing to write home about, and the remaining 50 percent is, well, mediocre blues-based 3-chord garage rock that may appeal greatly to some, but not me. Thusly, I give you my picks from this set — mostly from the bands I had never heard of — the noble third tier, if you will, and mostly pop stuff (my particular weakness). I recommend you put a blindfold, throw away the liner notes, and listen to all of this fresh stuff. Whatever your particular ’60s fetish is, these are the true nuggets (for your musical hash-pipe that is).

1. “The Bitter Thoughts of Little Jane” (Timon) — An incredibly well orchestrated, yet “little-sounding” baroque-pop song that will remind you why you flipped for Nico’s tunes on The Velvet Underground’s first album. This guy went on to play on some Clash records, believe it or not.

2 – 3. “I See The Rain” (The Marmalade) — Now on a car commercial, it’s no coincidence that Marmalade were signed to Apple Publishing. “I See the Rain” is derivative of that loveable drone-fuzz sound made famous by The Beatles’ “Rain” and “If I Needed Someone” (a sound which proves to have been very influential at the time from listening to this box set). Also equally as unique in this vein but a little more Who-esque is “Sad” by the Australian Playboys.

4. “Gone Is The Sadman” (Timebox) — Beatle-esque again, and how! I remember this from the radio. “Sadman” is a jazz-tinged song that would have been a standout on The Beatles’ “Revolver” — seriously. It should come as no surprise that the moptops were such an influence in their own native land.

5. “The Madman Running Through The Fields” (Dantalion’s Chariot) — An incredibly rhythmic sound collage, evocative of what Can would later do. Andy Summers, later of The Police, was in this band, believe it or not.

6. “Reflection of Charles Brown” (Rupert’s People) — If you can stand another pass at Procul Harem’s classic “A Whiter Shade Of Pale,” this is it. Both, in fact, are derivative of J.S. Bach’s “Air On A String.”

7. “I Read You Like An Open Book” (The Tages) — An odd intro that really doesn’t fit the song at all, and predictable “Homeward Bound” descending progression on the verse can’t ruin the show-stopping chorus on this Beach Boys-esque rocking “oldies” romp.

8. If you dig Johnny Rivers like I do (“Secret Agent Man,” Mountain of Love”), you’ll love “How To Find A Lover” by The Mockingbirds. Why wasn’t this song, penned by Graham Gouldman (who wrote “Bus Stop” by The Hollies and The Yardbirds’ “For Your Love”), a hit? In my opinion, the odd chant-like refrain might have kept this otherwise infectious oldie off the AM waves.

9. “For Another Man” (The Motions) — This is something that I would put on any mi. It’s got a great overall sound and feel, and is kinda dumb, like an old Kinks or Left Banke mid-tempo number (minus the harmonies). Although they are Dutch, the Kinks feel is undeniable.

10. “It’s A Sin To Go Away” (We All Together) — I think the meat of this song is of Beatles caliber. They’ve got the fresh 3-part harmony and fuzzy-drone bits going on. Really lo-fi sounding though, and these guys were from Peru!

11 – 12. “Flight From Ashiya” and “A Dream For Julie” (Kaleidoscope) — If these tunes are any indication as to how good a compilation of these Barrett-y psych-sters would be, I’d buy it on spec. From recent accounts, I’ve heard that their 1967 LP “Tangerine Dream” is a lost 60s classic on par with Pink Floyd’s “Piper At The Gates Of Dawn.”

13. “My White Bicycle” (Tomorrow) — If you’ve gotta have it, you’ve gotta have it. This is heavy, heavy psych with tons and tons of tracks. Next to Pink Floyd’s “See Emily Play” and The Beatles “Tomorrow Never Knows,” this is one of the finest specimens of psych’s first wave. Tommorrow were actually a pretty big band at one time, and introduced singer Keith West, drummer Twink (later of The Pink Faeries), and guitarist Steve Howe (later of Yes), to the music scene.

14. “In The Land Of The Few” (Love Sculpture) — Highly recommended, with reservations. It is an amazingly original composition for the time. But be warned, the seeds of prog rock are fully intact here. Boy does this jump off the box set. Features Dave Edmunds on guitar in a completely unlikely role. He would later find notoriety in the brief lived pub-rock scene of the ’70s.

15. “Fire Brigade” (The Move) — Again, with high reservations for strong lyrical cheese. The Move’s two songs on this box set demonstrate that they were an awesome Mod band with non-stop hooks (similar to The Who, I suppose). The band attacks this gloriously pretty tune with full vocal and instrumental assault. Leader Roy Wood would go on to form the lesser-known Wizzard, while bearded sideman Jeff Lynne would give rise to ELO, and pairs of large dark sunglasses.

16. “A Midsummernight’s Scene” (John’s Children) — A real score here. Both selections from John’s Children on this set are good, but this I prefer for its insistently weird repetition of a particular reverb-soaked “petals and flowers” refrain over every single part of the song. Destructive in his insistence to repeat this lyric over and over again, regardless of what the rest of the band was doing, the back-up singer had a cool Brian Jones-like idea. His name was Mark Bolan and he became ’70s monolith T-Rex.

17. “Going Nowhere” (Los Bravos) — From the Spanish hombres who gave us “Black Is Black” on the oldies station, Los Bravos deliver this deliriously passionate oldie, one I could picture Manfred Mann, Tom Jones, or another rock singer in Bacharach’s stable performing just as well.

18. “I’ll Keep Holding On” by the interesting pop-mod group, the Action (written by Smokey Robinson) — Definitely an exciting rendition of this obscure Motown tune by this almost-famous group, who were actually produced by The Beatles’ own George Martin. Paul Weller (The Jam) has claimed them as a major influence, which should come as no mystery after hearing this tune.

19. “The First Cut Is The Deepest Cut” (The Koobas) — Reminds me of Joe Cocker’s “A Little Help From My Friends” in a big way, which is a good thing for me. Kind of an interesting lyrical idea too, that being in love is like being cut. The Koobas actually toured with the Beatles in 1966 and did an album on EMI which was recorded by the Fab Four’s own engineer, Geoff Emerick.

20. “Social End Product” (The Bluestars) — Real protopunk here. Shit — snotty, stompy, and great Jagger-esque lyrics. There’s a lot of this type of music represented in this collection, but this one is the best.

Written by Jonathan Donaldson.

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