VELVET THUNDER

In which the Esoteric vaults are again mined for another name which might very probably be unfamiliar to many – I freely admit it was a new one on me! However, I love discovering these fascinating footnotes in 1970s rock history, and this collection of two albums from 1971 and 1972 respectively doesn’t disappoint. Gypsy, hailing from Leicester, were one more example of a band who promised much but, owing to circumstances partly in and partly out of their control, sadly under-achieved.

When the roots of the band first came together back in 1965, they went under the uninspiring name of Legay, after their drummer, the unusually named Legay Rogers. They changed the name in 1969 because, as band member John Knapp says, though ‘it was a really strong name’ (no, it really wasn’t), they felt it was giving people the impression that they were, well, gay. He goes on to say that he’s not sure why that should have happened, but considering this was the less than enlightened late ’60s and, frankly, the name, it shouldn’t have come as a shock! Anyhow, understandably, given – once again – 1969 and the prevailing times, they changed the name. Legay Rogers was gone by then in any case, so the name no longer had any relevance anyway. The new drummer Dave Smith was nicknamed ‘Moth’ for some reason (perhaps he had a problem with stage lights!), and they came up with Gypsy Moth, which actually was a strong name. They ended up shortening it to the less distinctive Gypsy, and risking confusion over the fact that another Gypsy existed in the US, but so it was…

But what of their two albums? Well, the self-titled debut, from 1971, is probably the stronger of the two, though there isn’t a huge difference. A big part of their sound is the vocal harmonies, with four vocalists out of the five members (only the drumming Moth was exempt from vocal duties). This leads unsurprisingly to a strong influence from CSN (and Y at times) in their sound. This turns out to be both a strength and a weakness because, although the harmonies are superb and they do it very well, it detracts a little from the band’s own identity – plus as Knapp himself says, those bands who had that West Coast sound were actually on the US West Coast, and were the originators, whereas, as he remarks pointedly ‘we were from Leicester’. It’s a good point, though they weren’t the first English band to take that sound on board , and nor would they be the last. Nevertheless, the album’s best moments come when they stretch out a little from that template – the opening rocker What Makes A Man A Man has the feel of a spring-heeled Beatles, and is a fine start to proceedings. Elsewhere the lengthy Turning Wheel allows some instrumental freedom with rather nice psychedelic-inspired guitar work, while the old side two has the album’s best two tracks in the shape of I Want To Be Beside You and Let Me Take You Home, both of which feature some blistering ensemble guitar work. The closing Pony Ride is a simpler boogie-rocker, in the format which would see Status Quo shape a career, and while not exactly ‘stuff wot Quo would be proud of’, it’s good riotous fun and does rattle along nicely. The first disc also includes both sides of a single, the excellent Changes Coming – which actually saw the band appear (unsuccessfully) on Top Of The Pops, before being ludicrously banned by the BBC on ‘political’ grounds. It’s at those moments when you know a band isn’t going to catch a break…

Nonetheless, they persevered with the follow-up, the strangely titled Brenda And The Rattlesnake – which makes sense only when it is explained that the inspiration actually came from a stripper! The album has a more overtly country and occasional ‘Southern Rock’ feel than its predecessor (Midnight Fighter is quite reminiscent of the similarly titled Midnight Rider by the Allman Brothers Band). Most of the tracks are still strong – the only real disappointment is the opener, the ironically pedestrian Brand New Car. The best track here is saved for the last though, the very Neil Young-inspired Comes A Time, which gives its name to this set. No nice pleasant CSN harmonies here, rather it channels Young at his Like A Hurricane / Cortez The Killer best, and really shows the band’s potential, which they admit themselves was not always best shown by these releases.

Like so much of the splendid Esoteric output, this release showcases a band who, while never likely to be enormous – partly through their own sometimes unwise musical direction – were nevertheless easily on a par with a great number of bands who did make it big, especially on those bands’ early efforts. Take the first two Nazareth albums, or indeed the first two Thin Lizzy albums, or perhaps Argent’s early output. They, and many others were given time to develop into the great bands that they became, whereas Gypsy recorded a third album which the label refused to put out, and which now only exists on an unusably degraded acetate and a tape copy which the owner refuses to release. These particular Gypsy boys could REALLY have done with a bit of lucky heather!