VELVET THUNDER

…a high energy melting pot of prog rock, hard rock, jazz-rock and good old-fashioned jamming. It sounds as if it is on a knife edge at times, and is every bit as exciting as that sounds.

Exhumed live shows are a pretty common form of artistic currency these days, with the demand for archive material – particularly from what some might term the ‘golden age’ – consistently sufficient to encourage the supply. Understandably, and especially considering the physical limitations of live recordings back then (especially ones not planned for release) were a world away from today’s digital world of almost studio quality at one’s fingertips, sound quality can fluctuate from release to release – but fortunately not so in this case. These old recordings can come in many shapes and sizes – literally in terms of the amount of material and the number of discs in the packaging – but there is one way in which they can easily be broken down into two categories: there are those that you were eagerly awaiting, and those which were barely even showing up on your musical radar. It must be admitted that there has never been a moment that I can recall when I have exclaimed ‘Good Lord, I wish there was a way I could hear how Brian Auger’s Oblivion Express sounded in 1970!’ But you know the odd thing? Like a surprising number of these cases, it turns out that I really did need to hear this evidence all along, because this humble single-disc release contains some truly exceptional music.

Just to refresh the memory of anyone who may be hazy about Brian Auger: he was (and still is, as he is happily very much still with us today) a Hammond Organ specialist keyboard player, most widely remembered at least in the UK for his work with Julie Driscoll in Trinity, having a hit with their version of Dylan’s This Wheel’s On Fire. Following the Trinity dissolution in 1969, he put together the rather splendidly named Oblivion Express the following year, with this Montreux show from October an early performance, and the only recorded evidence of the band with original drummer Keith Bailey – soon replaced by future Average White Band man Robbie Mackintosh, though it must be said he is excellent here, and the evidence is great to have, even if it does come over half a century later! The band were, and still are, largely referred to as a jazz-rock fusion outfit, but to these ears that tells only half the story at this point: the music here is hard and fierce, sitting only on the furthest ‘rock’ reaches of the jazz-rock spectrum, and in truth represents a high energy melting pot of prog rock, hard rock, jazz-rock and good old-fashioned jamming. It sounds as if it is on a knife edge at times, and is every bit as exciting as that sounds.

Right from the opening track, the blazing The Light, it is obvious that, apart from Auger’s own Hammond performance, the star here is guitarist Jim Mullen. Surprisingly he has gone on to work far more in the jazz sphere in the decades since, but here he is in coruscating form, peeling off stinging licks and storming solos like a born rock guitarist with just a few jazz influences. That’s versatility for you, I guess! That great opener is actually exceeded by the following Pavane, a superbly arranged interpretation of Faure’s classical piece, and one which criminally has gone unrecorded all of these years until now. In fact, of the nine tracks here, five would make their way onto 1971’s debut album, while the remaining four never received a studio release, which is another reason to be very thankful for this set. A cover of Herbie Hancock’s Maiden Voyage (which only ever resurfaced on 1976’s Live Oblivion Vol 2) is next up, and another fine piece. One of the downsides of 1970s live performances was always the solo spots, and the 10-minute On The Road does suffer from a drum solo along with some unsuccessful noodling, but it’s the only real blip here. It also suffers with some very shaky vocals, but more of that shortly.

We’re on a roll right to the finish from this point, with original piece The Sword leading into a tremendous cover of John McLaughlin’s Dragon Song and a rousing take on Sly Stone’s anthem I Want To Take You Higher. The lengthy, multi-faceted signature song Oblivion Express itself is rapturously received, with the closer Listen Here leaving everyone going home happy. The instrumental quality throughout this show is remarkable, the rhythm section tight as a drum and yet also flexible enough to show off their own chops, while Mullen and Auger put the icing on the top. Most of the material is either instrumental or else has only fairly brief vocal sections, which is a good thing, as this is undoubtedly the only real weakness in the band. It may be that this was recognised, as Auger’s voice is very low in the mix throughout – a positive as it happens, as his many talents did not extend to his larynx, and he perhaps should have had the microphone wrestled from him before attempting to sing into it! As noted, however, this is a set pretty light on the vocals, which is perhaps why a dedicated singer was not deemed a priority until later in the band’s existence.

No mere bootleg quality cheap release, the recording fidelity of this performance is excellent, perhaps indicating that like many Montreux shows put on by the legendary Claude Nobs (‘Funky Claude’ in Smoke On The Water of course), the show may have been recorded for possible broadcast. Whatever the origin of the audio (which is not specified in the accompanying booklet), the results are indisputable. Auger’s own thoughts and reminiscences pepper the booklet essay as well, and certainly add a lot to the contextual value of the set. This might not be one of the releases you were most anticipating in recent times, but it’s up there with the best of them. Undiscovered gems? They don’t come much more undiscovered or shiny than this one. Give it a go, and see that Jon Lord and Keith Emerson weren’t the only Hammond Maestros of the time.