Sometimes when you break up a Family, you get
Streetwalkers. The same thing would appear to happen in rock ‘n’
roll, when Family finally decided to call it a day after seven highly
acclaimed psychedelic/progressive rock albums and four top thirty hits.
The two mainstays and the writing partnership of both
Roger Chapman, he of the gravel throated vocals and a penchant for
shattering tambourines and smashing his mike stand through the stage
(always popular with concert hall owners), and Charlie Whitney, perhaps
one of the finest slide guitarists of his era, decided to stay together
and give it another go. They soon released one album aptly named
Streetwalkers as a duo backed by session musicians, ditching Family’s
layered progressive sound in favor of a far more gritty forceful rock.
Needing to take the music out on to the road, a new band was put
together.
The first recruit was a strange one; they enlisted
the extremely talented singer/guitarist Bobby Tench. Although Bobby
Tench is a seriously great musician (this Dog feels he has never really
scaled the heights that his obvious talents deserve), both positions,
the vocalist and lead guitar, were already filled by the founding
members of the band. But then suppose it’s always better to have
plenty of ammunition in reserve.
Next, two young musicians were brought in to give the
band real enthusiasm in the rhythm section. Jonathan ‘Jon’ Plotel,
who was enticed away from ‘Casablanca’ and an unknown young drummer
named Nicko McBain. After a quick tour of clubs and colleges they
retired to the studio to record the first proper Streetwalkers album, a
nice little album. It was not exactly breathtaking, but nonetheless a
noble effort and enough to get them booked on a short headline tour of
Europe, and appearances to great critical acclaim at many of Europe’s
major rock festivals.
So, upon arrival back in the studio the band was
ready to get down to business. The results were released in June of
1976. Red Card, which was a bit of a naff title, and so was the
album’s artwork, but the important bit, the music inside, was classic
mid seventies rock ‘n’ roll. Red Card went Top Twenty across Europe,
reaching number sixteen in Britain. Fame and fortune were beckoning, the
door was open, all they had to do was walk through, just a few steps.
Did they? Of course not, life just isn’t like that in rock ‘n’
roll.
For some unfounded reason, probably not even knowing
why themselves now, within three weeks of Red Card’s release, the trio
of Chapman, Whitney, and Tench decided to fire Plotel and McBain. (It
certainly could not have been on musical inability in Nicko’s position
as he later went and worked with the demanding Pat Travers before going
back to his homeland and drumming for French rockers ‘Trust’. While
he was still with ‘Trust’, he was asked to sit behind the drums for
heavy metal giants ‘Iron Maiden’, where he has been for the last
twenty five years.)
The remaining trio then expanded the lineup to a six
piece, adding Mickey Feat on bass, Dave Dowle on drums and Brian Johnson
on keyboards. If Plotel and McBain were punk, then their three
replacements were jazz/funk. It was a bit like replacing your Ferrari
with a nice sedate sedan. The band went back into the studio to record
another album, ‘Vicious But Fair’. A great title and great sleeve
artwork, but the music inside was abysmal. The music press murdered
them. Their loyal audience, many of whom had been carried over from the
Family days, spoke with their feet and the tour to promote the album was
a dismal affair.
The band members went their own ways on its
completion. The record company, though, still owed one more album. So,
posthumously, that old stalwart of the seventies, a double live album
was put out and this is it. How six so relatively talented musicians can
sound so poor is beyond me. You get a smattering of tracks from each of
the four studio albums that had come out under the Streetwalkers’
banner, including the butchering of two from Red Card, ‘Me An’ Me
Horse An’ Me Rum’ and the suitably titled ‘Crazy Charade’. Then,
possibly to try and appease the fans, two of the classic tracks from
probably Family’s finest album ‘Bandstand’ are taken out and given
an airing. It’s a crying shame though to hear them treated with such
little respect. ‘My Friend The Sun’ sounds as though the band has
never even rehearsed it before, whilst during the mundane version of
Burlesque they sound positively bored. A sad case of “If Only”. If
you want to hear Chapman/Whitney at their best, get ‘Red Card’ or
‘Bandstand’, but avoid this one.
I
am attracted to good coffee table books. I have to also admit that I am
attracted to classical Thai decor. My final admission for today is that I
stand in awe of the superb photography of Luca Invernizzi Tettoni, so with
all three admissions rolled into one, I was very interested in the book
Contemporary Thai (published by Asia Books ISBN 962-8734-60-1).
Mott’s CD review: Streetwalkers – Live
No
Stars