Fascism For Beginners – Repost

WWII Map

NOTE: this is the first of a four-part series I published in April 2017, not long after Trump was first elected. The insurrectionist is now threatening to use America’s 1807 Insurrection Act to stifle protesters in Minneapolis after the brutal murder of anti-ICE protester Renee Good. I thought now would be a good time to reiterate what can transpire when a nation turns toward fascist leadership. (And happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day.)

The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which – George Orwell

I’m reading a very good book right now. It’s called THE RISE AND FALL OF THE THIRD REICH by William Shirer. I bought it a few years ago in honor of the 50th anniversary of its publication, but until recently it’s been sleeping on my bookshelf. I’m reading it now because, like many people since the November election, I’m pretty deflated, and I’m thinking this book will be a good antidote. Maybe it will put things into perspective. As low as America is right now, it would have to claw a lot more dirt out of the pit to reach the depths of 1930s-40s Germany.

RISE AND FALL is considered the definitive history of the Nazi Party. It’s a 1,150-page book of small print, so reading it is a long haul. I’m just past the rise and starting on the fall. Churchill has replaced Chamberlain in England. Germany’s vaunted army has finally been repulsed, on the icy Eastern front, by Russia. The U.S. has reluctantly been pulled into the war following the sneak Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.

I’ve never been much of a WWII buff. As far as historical conflicts go, I’ve always preferred the more antiquated and seemingly altruistic slaughter of the American Civil War. My wife loves the Second World War. Any time one of those black-and-white newsreels about WWII is broadcast on television, she grabs the remote. I can’t watch them. Inevitably, there are clips of that shrieking madman with the greasy hair and Charlie Chaplin mustache. I usually leave the room. The sight of him makes my skin crawl.

So until recently, I was probably like most Americans, in that my knowledge of Nazi Germany was limited to a few names, dates… and one monumental atrocity. But Shirer’s book has made it abundantly clear that Nazi philosophies and practices were aided and abetted many years prior to the war and the Holocaust. The war and the Holocaust were just fascism brought to its logical and horrifying conclusion.

 Charlie Chaplin spoofing Adolf Hitler in “The Great Dictator” (1940). Hitler was considered a big joke in the beginning. After the clown makeup came off, the world saw something else.

What’s the definition of fascism? The “Merriam-Webster Dictionary” defines it as follows:

A political philosophy, movement, or regime (as that of the Fascisti) that exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition.

That’s a mouthful. But let’s look at the first part: “…exalts nation and often race above the individual.”

The Nazi Party was founded by a man named Anton Drexler and three other far-right Germans in Munich on January 5, 1919. At that time, it was called the German Workers’ Party (Deutsche Arbeiterpartei, or DAP). By 1921, a onetime vagabond and former Austrian colonel named Adolf Hitler had, through boundless energy, skillful oratory, and not a little fanaticism, wrested control of the party.

 Anton Drexler, founder of the Nazi Party

Hitler added the words “National Socialist” to the name, making it NSDAP, or “Nazzy” (Note: the word “Socialist” here was merely used rhetorically and had little to do with the philosophies of various leftist parties in Germany at the time, which Nazism eventually extinguished). Hitler and other party leaders also delivered a 25-point manifesto. Two of the manifesto points were as follows:

Point Number 4: “Only a member of the race can be a (German) citizen. A member of the race can only be one who is of German blood, without consideration of creed. Consequently, no Jew can be a member of the race.”

(This ignorant stipulation mistakenly assumes that precious “German blood” equates with race, when Germanic heritage is actually an ethnicity. And note the casual singling out of one particular group for discrimination: Jews. Evidently there were few Arabs in Germany at the time – at least, any that had social or economic significance).

Point Number 8: “Any further immigration of non-citizens is to be prevented. We demand that all non-Germans, who have immigrated to Germany since 2 August 1914, be forced immediately to leave the Reich.”

(August 2, 1914 is the day Germany mobilized for WWI, which it ultimately lost. The 1918 Treaty of Versailles required the country to make reparations for its aggression, including a substantial loss of territory. This left a lingering bitterness throughout the prideful nation. The date of August 2, 1914 was probably significant to the most nationalistic Germans, but totally arbitrary to most immigrants).

Nation and race. Nationalism and eugenics. Always choice ingredients in a recipe for disaster. Remember, this Nazi “Program” was drawn up in 1921: eighteen years before Germany invaded Poland to start the next world war. Although NSDAP was still only a radical fringe group in Germany, the party principles had already taken root. Hitler and his henchmen would adhere to these two points, and all 23 others – and expand on them – until their empire of sadism finally toppled.

My stomach’s starting to churn, so I’ll break off. But please check back for the second part of my “Fascism for Beginners,” where I’ll be examining how citizens allowed a political party and its leader to turn their country into a pigsty.

Could Someone Please Kidnap OUR Dictator?

(Breaking news: Trump’s ICE just murdered a peaceful protester in Minneapolis. Trump and his yes-men and -women have, of course, worked their usual spins and lies.)

The latest black comedy out of Washington is that the U.S. just bombed Caracas, Venezuela – minus congressional approval – and “kidnapped” Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro and plans to now “run” his country (shoeshine boy Marco Rubio currently manning the controls). America’s most powerful insurrectionist and convicted felon, Donald Trump, has threatened he won’t rule out “boots on the ground,” and he’s recklessly brushed aside the possibility of a prolonged military entanglement.

Maduro was vice-president under late Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chávez. A socialist, he has been condemned as a corrupt autocrat guilty of crimes against humanity. Therefore, few tears are being shed at his “removal.” But some leaders are so fearful of Trump’s use of punishing tariffs, they are actually applauding one fascist merely knocking off his alter-ego. I call their chickenshit behavior “the Neville Chamberlain Syndrome.”

A few brave souls have condemned Trump’s actions, criticizing them as yet another attempt at regime change by a U.S. Republican president, similar to George W. Bush‘s invasion of Iraq in 2003.

“Venezuela is not a security threat to the U.S.,” said Sen. Chris Murphy, a Democrat from Connecticut. “This is about making Trump’s oil industry and Wall Street friends rich.” True, Chris. But I would add it’s also about an easy way for him to look like a badass and nourish his megalomania.

Trump has, in his typically grandstanding, vague, and simplistic way, also made veiled threats against other countries in the Americas, notably Mexico. On his personal right-wing propaganda mouthpiece, FOX News, Trump claimed Mexican president Claudia Scheinbaum is powerless and “frightened” of Mexican drug cartels, and that “something is going to have to be done with Mexico.” Like I said: grandstanding, vague, simplistic, and reckless. Just the catnip that his base loves.

Prior to Maduro’s kidnapping, Trump held a 60 percent disapproval rating. In the U.S., military actions are often used to stoke patriotism (i.e. nationalism) and spike poll numbers.

***

Some of you may be familiar with secular humanist Lawrence W. Britt‘s oft-cited article “Fascism, Anyone?,” published in Free Inquiry magazine in Spring 2003. Britt compared the regimes of seven fascist leaders – HitlerMussoliniFrancoSalazar (Portugal), Papadopolous (Greece), Suharto (Indonesia) and Pinochet (Chile) – all right-wing conservative, like Trump – and discovered 14 areas of commonality between all seven.

Trump has repeatedly exhibited all 14 fascist characteristics except one: “Supremacy of the Military.” Trump’s ascent to power was partly fueled by his criticism of decades of bloody American intervention in Iraq and Afghanistan. So this Venezuelan attack is a reversal. But egotistic bullies are egotistic bullies, and Trump is infamous for his disdain for pesky things like truth and morality.

His recent incursion into Venezuela is undoubtedly a next step. He’s conquered America, so why not the world? How about invading that terrible island Greenland? (Not joking, people.) There is absolutely no doubt in this writer’s mind that Trump will continue using America’s military might “whenever possible to assert national goals, intimidate other nations, and increase the power and prestige of the ruling elite.” (Britt, Fascism, Anyone?).

(At a later date I hope to discuss how Trump has wholeheartedly embraced the other 13 characteristics of fascist leaders.)

In the title of this essay, I asked a question. Since American citizens have proven woefully inadequate in preventing their country from rollicking down the road of fascism, perhaps we could enlist the assistance of another nation (or nations)? One a bit more enlightened, maybe? Perhaps those of us who still value this dying concept of democracy could arrange a small kidnapping ourselves…except the victim would be our own elected leader!

Just a hypothetical…but s’pose we could hire a country…like, say, Canada…to invite dickhead up north, maybe for a golf extravaganza at a resort near maybe Banff. Isolated near the 13th hole, he would there have only a small posse of security goons, and said goons could easily be smacked over their skulls and rendered unconscious with a few hefty nine irons. Maybe Canada could knock dickhead over his head as well, just to keep his bombastic trap shut while his turbo-charged, gold-plated golf cart is hijacked to the Canuck helicopter awaiting in a grove of evergreens.

Dickhead could then easily be whisked to an existing underground compound high up in the Northwest Territories. (Actually, doesn’t matter where, long as it’s really, really cold.) Since he’s now 80-something years old (why would a loving God allow a virus like this to live so long?), he could remain there until he finally dies of natural causes, hypothermia, or Viagra withdrawal. ‘Course, if our Canadian friends choose to speed up his demise – maybe through a steady diet of Hostess Twinkies while his bullet-proof diaper is chained to a large gold-plated “T” ripped off one of his skyscrapers, and while subjected to endless reruns of Obama inauguration celebrations – that would be fine.

This wouldn’t of course solve the problem of a dumb American electorate permanently incapacitated by decades-worth of fermentation in conservative propaganda media (like FOX News), crappy public education, and American football.

But it would feel so good to finally and irrevocably drag a selfish pig and bombastic  bully off the world’s playground.

The good news about climate change is that if it gets us first, Trump won’t have time to build his death camps – Joan Baez, June 2025

Happy Activist 2026!

Happy 2026, everyone. I hope you had a good holiday season (whether secular or non-secular).

I’ve always loved Christmas. As a child, it was literally a magical time. I still remember the gadget-crammed detective briefcase Santa brought me, sometime around 1965, a toy inspired by the hit TV show The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (or was it Secret Agent Man, aka Danger Man?). And now that I have four grandchildren, I vicariously enjoy their joy. But as with most people plagued with critical thinking skills, the appalling commercialism, materialism, and hypocrisy of Kitschmas have placed me firmly in the Charlie Brown camp. And since I’m non-Christian – that is, one who considers virgin births as fictions, albeit clever and comforting ones – I don’t need Linus to recalibrate my perspective.

Suffice to say that, yesterday, I breathed a big sigh of relief: the gent down the street was finally removing the garish, plastic, inflatable cartoon characters he’d installed on his front lawn (“for my grandkids,” he claimed; I wonder about that, grampa). The polyester Walmart Santa, his reindeer, and giant green Grinch will soon be lining an ocean floor near you.

What happened was this: following the inconceivable 2024 U.S. presidential election that was inconceivably conceived, my wife and I decided to move to Spain to escape what we feel is a diseased country. Without belaboring things, we actually followed through, moving to beautiful Estepona, Malaga on September 3 of last year. Despite some growing pains and residency concerns, we loved it and were fitting in nicely. Spain is a wonderful place with lovely people, not to mention a gun policy that is moral.

However, three months later our daughter became very ill. She has a history of chronic pelvic and gastrointestinal pain, and this latest reoccurence was very bad, actually making us concerned for her mental state. The fact that she has three daughters to raise – ages 8, 6, and 4 – added to the worry. Long story short, we decided to return to America to be closer to her and help out. So we now have a cozy condo in sleepy Goshen, Ohio, rather than a hip, urban apartment on the Mediterranean.

Life is strange. I guess when you’re born on a country’s birthday, the stars preordain that you will live and die there.

So what does all this have to do with longitudes? Well, I told myself that, since I have to return, I have two options: I can either become a bunny rabbit and nibble lettuce while Trump and the Republican Party turn America into an open sewer; or I can take the opposite tack and hurl even more rotten tomatoes than before we left. And although I’m not a lion, I’m not Peter Cottontail, either. Not that it will effect any positive change, but I plan to be politically vocal and active again, maybe more so than before. Including on WordPress. At least, until Trump and his neo-Nazis silence my voice.

(They) keep you doped with religion and sex and TV – John Lennon, “Working Class Hero”

Our return to what Gore Vidal called the “United States of Amnesia” couldn’t have been timed better: it came just as our favorite petty tyrant characteristically went on a xenophobic and racist rant against U.S.-based Somalians – many of whom are U.S. citizens, all of whom want to escape to a better life – calling them “garbage” and sending his masked gorillas to nearby Columbus (which has the second largest Somali population in America) to indiscriminately scoop them up. Just the latest, sick fun and games in America’s “New Normal.”

Therefore, don’t be too taken aback if you start seeing my usual misanthropic essays again…at least, as long as my mental health doesn’t become mental unhealth. I am what I am, and I have to speak out. America is now a country where the constitution, the rule of law, due process, and traditional values…like, for example, basic human decency…have been trampled into our chemically toxic soil by fanatical ideologues who’ve somehow managed to hypnotize half of a seriously myopic nation. Sound like 1930s Germany? You bet. And it’s been said many times before: if you’re not part of a solution, you’re part of the problem.

Although back in January 2025 I stated that my topical essays might be making me a bit too cynical, I never want to be one who blithely accepts what, as “Kurtz” in Heart of Darkness recognized, is “the horror.”

So…got a whole bunch of juicy outrages to pontificate on. Racial profiling by masked “Brownshirts.” Book banning zealousness by Moms For (Non-) Liberty. University takeovers. Redistricting by Republicans to tilt elections. Incarcerations of the homeless. Corporate welfare for the wealthiest. Erasing benefits for the poor. Gutting funding for education and the arts. Organized Christian prayer in public schools. Revitalization of the coal industry. Politically motivated renaming of geographic locations. And most shocking of all: the phenomenon of brain-consuming worms.

So here’s to 2026. Let’s hope it’s a more activist year than ever, because we need activists now more than ever. While it’s never been a better time to be a misanthrope, I plan to do my part in fighting the “dope” that keeps us acquiescent. And if y’all hear of any planned conflagrations of books near zip code 45122, please let me know. Maybe we can intercept a few copies of Fahrenheit 451 before they hit the flames.

Damn these human beings; if I had invented them I would go hide my head in a bag – Mark Twain, in a letter to William Dean Howells, 1899

Upp

Band Personnel:
Andy Clark: keyboards, vocals
Stephen Amazing: bass
Jim Copley: drums
+ Jeff Beck: guitar
+ David Bunce: guitar

The mystery train of rock music can churn down any number of fascinating side tracks. Connections are made, then abandoned. Accidents can happen…including more than a few cataclysmic train wrecks. (Blind Faith, anyone?) A perfect example of the detour phenomenon is the “accidental” band Upp (often spelled with all-caps, and not to be confused with Irish prog-rockers Fruupp).

This particular music profile was marginally more difficult to write than usual, as there’s scant material on Upp, and my discovery of them was an accident in itself. But Upp is interesting if for no other reason than its Spinal Tap-styled antecedents, and its significant connection to someone who, to many listeners’ ears (including the author’s), was the greatest guitar practitioner in rock. So, for that reason…let’s take Upp their short story.

Upp begins with keyboardist Andy Clark (not to be confused with Be-Bop Deluxe keyboardist Simon Andy Clark). Clark was in the 1966-68 incarnation of heavy-psych band Sam Gopal Dream, along with tabla player Gopal, guitarist Mick Hutchinson, and journeyman bassist Pete Sears. No recordings exist, but the group assisted sundry acid trips in the major London underground clubs of the day, and played at the 14 Hour Technicolor Dream and Christmas on Earth Continued extravaganzas. [A later Gopal lineup made the collectible stoner LP, Escalator (1969), featuring infamous Lemmy.]

Clark, Hutchinson, and Sears then formed the short-lived ensemble Vamp with crazed drummer Viv Prince (ex-Pretty Things). Vamp released one single, “Floatin'” / “Thinkin’ Too Much” (1968).

Clark and Hutchinson then formed Clark-Hutchinson with Stephen Field (bass, aka Stephen Amazing) and Del Coverly (drums). They managed three minor albums, the first of which, A=MH2 (1969), is praised by prog junkies for its extended raga workouts (while critic Richie Unterberger called it “the sort of thing you might hear blasting away…in the background of drug orgies in some low-rent psychsploitation flicks.”)

Having little success with music, Clark turned to pumping gas (petrol) for a living. But in 1973 he was given a limo ride by a roadie for David Bowie, during which he somehow finagled studio time where Bowie recorded. He and Amazing began casually rehearsing soul-jazz numbers with new drummer Jim Copley, calling themselves 3-Upp, then just Upp. This period coincided with Bowie’s ballyhooed farewell gig as “Ziggy Stardust” at Hammersmith Odeon on July 3, 1973. One featured guest at this show was guitarist Jeff Beck.

The story goes that Beck visited Bowie’s CBS studio, then overheard Upp rehearsing down the hall. He kicked open their rehearsal room door, at which the band, open-mouthed, abruptly stopped playing. “Please carry on! I love it, I love it!” raved Beck, according to drummer Copley. What followed was six months-worth of Upp jamming with Beck, resulting in two albums for Epic/CBS, the first with the legend himself as producer (though, oddly, he’s not credited anywhere). He also used Upp as his backing band for BBC broadcasts. All this was warmup to his seminal George Martin-produced fusion LP, Blow by Blow (1975).

It’s tempting of course to claim that, without Upp, Beck would never have embraced instrumental fusion like he did – musical stylings that he pursued until his death in 2023. Fact is, he’d already toyed with fusion with the Jeff Beck Group. Also, Beck himself claimed in interviews that drummer Billy Cobham‘s 1973 Spectrum album was the impetus for turning him away from vocal-heavy, bluesy hard rock and closer to jazz. (His hiring of Martin was spurred by Martin’s production of fusion giant Mahavishnu Orchestra‘s Apocalypse LP). Significantly, he didn’t enlist Upp for Blow by Blow, instead utilizing Max Middleton (keyboards), Phil Chen (bass), and Richard Bailey (drums).

L to R: Bunce, Amazing, Copley, Clark

But what of the music of Upp and This Way Upp? Well, the first album is pleasant after a few beers, maybe for a party, or for “background noise in some low-rent porn flick,” and overlooking some clumsy changes and fadeouts, and Clark’s English lad-trying-to-sound-like-Curtis Mayfield-and-Wilson Pickett vocals. Beck’s guitar is, naturally, the big draw. He’s politely restrained here, offering breathing room to the others, and Amazing earns his pseudonym with some hyperkinetic bass (see link below). Funk-jazz is the operative word, and much of this slight LP sounds like rehearsal material for “Constipated Duck,” a lesser song on Blow by Blow. Best cut is the tender “Jeff’s One,” written by Beck and Clark, with a Beck solo that’s the epitome of taste.

The eye-catching Magritte-inspired cover is by CBS Records staff designers Roslav Szaybo and Les May.

This Way Upp has a slicker, L.A. sound and seems aimed at the disco market. But it has more liveliness than the debut, with tighter playing, singing, and arrangements. Maybe it’s because Beck didn’t produce. (Upp was his only attempt at producing someone other than himself.) His guitar graces only two songs, though his playing is as impeccable as ever. (One David Bunce is main guitarist, and L.A. session saxophonist Tom Scott guests.) Best song: “Dance Your Troubles Away,” with both Beck and Scott.

***

It goes without saying, if you’re a Jeff Beck man, you want these two albums. Even without his involvement, though, this white-boy funk does have its moments. And if you do manage to locate these curios, please tell Discogs, or whomever, that longitudes sent you. (No, Pete doesn’t get a commission.)

Andy Clark reunited with Sam Gopal in the 1990s, recorded four albums with him, and as far as I know is still around. Jim Copley did session work after Upp, but died of leukemia in 2017. And if various music-related threads can be trusted, Stephen Field/Amazing, like so many musicians of old, had some personal struggles. Presumably, he’s now Upp there…jamming once more with Copley and Beck.

(R.I.P. Rob “Marty DiBergi” Reiner, and thanks for your films and activism.)

Singles:
“Never Gonna Turn Your Love Away” (1976)
“Dance Your Troubles Away” (1976)

Albums:
Upp (1975)
This Way Upp (1976)

Compilations:
Get Down in the Dirt: The Complete Upp (2004, CD only)
Upp/This Way Upp (2017, CD only)

Forest

We embraced the rich melodic structures of traditional song and synthesized these with fresh musical forms to create a world of dreams, surrealism, Nature, stories and love, very much in keeping with the spirit of that age – Adrian Welham of Forest

Band Personnel:
Martin Welham: 12-string guitar, 6-string guitar, piano, organ, harmonium, pipes, percussion, vocals
Adrian “Hadrian” Welham: guitar, mandolin, organ, harmonica, pipes, cello, harpsichord, harmonium, percussion, vocals
Derek “Dez” Allenby: mandolin, harmonica, harmonium, pipes, percussion, vocals
+ Dave Panton: viola, oboe, saxophone
+ Dave Stubbs: bass

In my last music article I profiled Dr. Strangely Strange, a group that had followed an acoustic folk path blazed by the great Scottish duo, Incredible String Band (ISB). But there were others. One of them is a very unusual outfit called Forest.

NOTE: not to sound like an old fart, but if you’re a young person reading, this article deals with actual people making original music on real instruments in an acoustic capacity. The band profiled here were flesh-and-blood humans who used no digitized buttons, commands, Artificial Intelligence, or “sampling” to create their sounds, and they used no machines other than during the recording process. I don’t say this out of sarcasm. I just feel that times have changed, and music in turn has changed, and it is important to be aware of certain facts.

Like the Strangelies, Forest was a threesome with only two albums on its résumé (though the Strangelies managed two reunion LPs). Both are highly collectible. Both, also, are so attuned to the spirit of their time, they could never have been released outside a window in recorded history of maybe five or six golden years.

Brothers Martin and Adrian Welham and Dez Allenby came from the fishing port of Grimsby, Lincolnshire, England. Teenagers in 1966, they played folk clubs in nearby Walesby as Foresters of Walesby, shortening the name after moving to larger Birmingham two years later. Initially, they were strongly influenced by American music and traditional English folkies like The Watersons and The Young Tradition, the last-named of whom they were friends with. But the abstract, dreamlike explorations of ISB and, of course, later Beatles, pulled them in a more psychedelic direction, though one less genial than either of those groups. Venerable BBC radio host John Peel (with whom they lodged briefly) promoted them on three BBC sessions, and “Whispering Bob” Harris on three shows. Peel may have even helped them sign with Peter Jenner and Andrew King of Blackhill Enterprises (whose first signing had been Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd).

Blackhill then arranged an album contract with Malcolm Jones‘s fledgling EMI subsidiary, Harvest Records, home of Floyd, solo Barrett, Barclay James HarvestKevin AyersRoy HarperEdgar Broughton Band, and other progressive rock acts of a curious ilk. Aside from maybe Syd, Forest was the most curious.

First release was the single “Searching for Shadows,” followed by an eponymous LP. In his liner notes to the album, Peel describes the songs as being “full of sunshine, leaves and running water.” Like ISB and the Strangelies, the music is all-acoustic, with offkey harmonizing and exotic, raggedy instrumentation. If the Strangelies’ music is appropriate for a harvest festival, Forest sound like they chose a denser locale in which to record…an old-growth forest, perhaps. All is burnished by a casual mixing job, which some might argue enhances the music’s charm. The listener cocks his head with “These are either schoolboys horsing around, or they have a key to a door (leading to the “forest” of the subconscious?) that only a few even know about.” For me, they come closer to the latter.

Although the band earned a few gigs due to Forest, the LP shifted a meagre 10,000 copies. So the group did the logical thing: they made their follow-up even more Gothic.

The Guardian included Full Circle in its list of “1000 Albums to Hear Before You Die,” one of only 14 from the year 1970. I’ve been dismissive of subjective lists and inductions by anonymous humans. But I’m guessing The Guardian‘s credibility factor exceeds that of certain rock music halls-of-fame, arriving as it were without the internal politics, not to mention self-aggrandizing New York and L.A. entertainment executives in sharp-looking suits.

Full Circle glows with simple, childlike wonder. The music is weird, but accessible, the songs filled with a baroque and elegant macabre reminiscent of Poe or The Turn of the Screw. “Graveyard” (Adrian Welham) has a simple arrangement with guitar, pipes, cello, and flute, and concerns a specter’s visit to a graveyard and subsequent stumbling on a corpse that could very well be its own. “Hawk the Hawker” (Dez Allenby) has a country vibe, with fiddle and pedal steel guitar, except this “Hawk” fellow isn’t a jilted lover (or medieval falconer) but the band’s friendly “supplier.” The crème de la crème is Martin Welham’s “The Midnight Hanging of a Runaway Serf,” a tune pushing close to progressive rock. The title describes the story. It’s a stunner.

Both Forest and Full Circle feature will-o’-the-wisp sleeve illustrations by a mysterious woman named Joan Melville. To discuss artwork (indicative of the song lyrics), the group met with her in her rural cottage while sitting in the nude and indulging in tea and meditation.

A familiar tale followed the release of Full Circle. Extroverted glam rock was supplanting the kind of cerebral hippie-folk that Forest did so well, and the record did not do well. Discouraged, Allenby quit to attend school. The brothers Welham pulled in two new members and soldiered on, completing a tour of Holland that included a well-received appearance at the 1971 Pinkpop Festival alongside Fleetwood Mac and Focus. They then notched their last Beeb session with Peel. But no more studio recordings were released. The band folded in 1972. Peel is reported to have said that, of a multitude of bands that at various times crashed at his home, Forest is the only group he liked as people.

Today, Martin Welham and his son Tom make up the acid-folk band The Story. Allenby has released one album independently as Southernwood with his wife Cathy. Adrian Welham’s whereabouts are unknown. He was last sighted in the Southern Carpathians managing a sleigh ride business catering to tourists.

Single:
“Searching for Shadows” / “Mirror of Life” (1969)

Original Albums:
Forest (1969)
Full Circle (1970)

Live:
BBC Concert (1989) (France only)

Compilation:
Forest/Full Circle (1996) (CD only)

Dr. Strangely Strange

Band Personnel:
Tim Booth: guitar, mandolin, idiophone (thumb piano), percussion, vocals
Ivan Pawle: guitar, bass, fiddle, whistle, percussion, vocals
Tim Goulding: organ, harmonium, piano, recorder, glockenspiel, violin, Stylophone, vocals
+ Caroline “Linus” Greville, vocals
+ Joe Thoma, fiddle, mandolin

Barely a whisper in their heyday, the “Strangelies” are a good example of British/Irish hippie-folk whimsy that followed a well-trodden path blazed by acoustic, Scottish mystics Incredible String Band (ISB). Not surprisingly, both groups were produced and managed by Harvard-educated expatriate and folk/blues/rock impresario, Joe Boyd (Witchseason Productions, Hannibal Records). 

Emerging from Trinity College, Dublin in 1967 were student bohemians Booth and Pawle. They jammed casually with a couple others before Goulding joined, all of them multi-instrumentalists associated with quasi-commune “The Orphanage” that also birthed Gary Moore and Phil Lynott (both Skid Row and Thin Lizzy). First signing interest came from Bernard Stollman of ESP-Disk (Fugs, Pearls Before Swine), but Boyd beat him to the contracts. First album, Kip of the Serenes (1969), has ISB stamp all over it, the band’s core threesome being joined by singer Carolyn “Linus” Greville. Opening track “Strangely Strange But Oddly Normal” is significant for cute title as well as inclusion on Island Records budget sampler, Nice Enough to Eat, alongside TrafficJethro Tull, and other rock heavyweights.

Popular on UK university circuit, Strangelies supported Irish blues guitarist Rory Gallagher, and at one point had a young Elton John supporting them. Their music might best be described as “woodland hippie”: that which might be played at an annual harvest festival, accompanied by mime troupe, maybe after a day of gathering organic carrots and peas. (Substances doled out near the Kundalini yoga tent.)

Second album, Heavy Petting (1970), has gimmick sleeve design by Roger Dean. It dispenses with Linus’s vocals but adds drummer Dave Mattacks (Fairport Convention) and Moore’s electric guitar for a punchier sound (though not too punchy), with hints of American country. Standout track is eight-minute groove, “Sign On My Mind.” Goulding then left to get married and paint. Gay and Terry Woods (Steeleye Span) briefly joined for a tour, but band soon crumbled. However, interest amongst folk-psych cultists in the Strangelies’ gentle, pastoral sounds has encouraged periodic reunions and releases. Mostly strange was at a wake for Annie Christmas of The Orphanage…an “acoustic gig in a cabbage patch” (Halcyon Days notes). And as recently as this year, a new LP called Anti-Inflammatory.

***

Much of this music is, as they say, an acquired taste: sometimes limp or derivative, occasionally “precious.” But for me it also has a refreshing purity and casual indifference to commerce. It has a hippie organicism lived in real time, not feigned later for nostalgia. As Rose Simpson of ISB told me when I interviewed her in 2019, “it was natural for all of us, not a performance of someone else, but a projection of the people we would have liked to be all the time.”

Dr. Strangely Strange only made two albums in its original incarnation, and neither stands with ISB’s magical The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter. But they are perfectly representative of music – like that of Bread, Love & Dreams, Trees, and others – that, although locked in a certain time and place, is also a very special and exotic time and place.

Original Albums:
Kip of the Serenes (1969)
Heavy Petting (1970)

Reunion Albums:
Alternative Medicine (1997)
Anti-Inflammatory (2025)

Collections:
Halcyon Days (2007)
Radio Sessions (2022)

Pearls Before Swine: “Balaklava” – Repost

front cover2

[Re-posting this 2018 album review for Remembrance Day/Armistice Day (known in U.S. as Veterans Day)]

Last February, I wrote an obituary/tribute to a gentleman named Tom Rapp (see A Knowledge of Ashes). Rapp was a singer-songwriter and recording artist from 1965 to 1976 who retired from music to become a civil rights lawyer. He was a musician of uncommon intelligence, with an unyielding commitment to social justice, leavened by the unexpected humorous wink. His music was too cryptic and melancholic to ever earn a listing on the Billboard Hot 100.  So if you’re unfamiliar with him, it’s understandable.

To put it another way, James Taylor or Dan Fogelberg, Tom Rapp was not. But artistic ambiguity and professional obscurity have never prevented longitudes from recognizing someone. In fact, they often indicate a vision too luminous for most of us to process.

Fifty years ago, Rapp released his second, most ambiguous, and arguably best album, credited to his band Pearls Before Swine, on the underground label ESP-Disk.  It’s called Balaklava.

rapp photo
 Tom Rapp

Scholars of European history might recognize Balaklava (also spelled with a ‘c’, “Balaclava”) as the name of the place where a famous British cavalry charge occurred in 1854 during the Crimean War. The poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson immortalized it in his poem about valor, The Charge of the Light Brigade. The truth is that this charge was an unnecessary military action, a suicidal maneuver that dissolved 40 percent of an entire brigade. Valor in suicide. Irony, like this, was a Tom Rapp specialty.

The year 1968 had a similarly senseless military action going on, this one in Southeast Asia. More irony: Rapp dedicated his record to WWII soldier Eddie Slovik, the only U.S. soldier executed for desertion since the American Civil War.

“Some people thought (my) songs were hopeless…I was being realistic about the pain that’s out there. If you say life is wonderful, people know it isn’t true, but if you talk about the pain, someone will listen.” (Crawdaddy, December 2008)

Tears are often jewel-like…

The first thing that makes Balaklava different from other records is its unusual sleeve art. Album reproductions of paintings later became popular, but Balaklava is one of the first examples, and the painting chosen partially relates to the music inside. It’s a reproduction of Pieter Brueghel the Elder’s 16th-century, apocalyptic oil panel “The Triumph of Death,” with typewriter characters of the band name and album title stamped across the top…as if this record is a dispatch being wired from the abyss below.

Pvt. Eddie D. Slovik, Shot for Desertion 1944
 Private Eddie D. Slovik, shot for desertion in 1944

The back cover features surreal illustrations by French avant-garde writer and filmmaker Jean Cocteau. Also, a quote from American philosopher and poet George Santayana: “Only the dead have seen the end of war.” And yet more irony: a photograph of a freckle-faced girl wearing a shy smile, with a daisy protruding from her plaid dress, and a button reading “Pearls Before Swine.”

(The photo was snapped at a peace rally by photographer Mel Zimmer. The girl’s button actually said “Flower Power.” Zimmer identifies his photo as “Molly Stewart.”)

So, the listener has an idea where this record is headed even before the needle strikes the wax. The packaging is deliberate and unapologetic. As Dante wrote in “The Inferno:” All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

Another striking thing about Balaklava: the music is introduced by a ghost. The first “song” is titled “Trumpeter Landfrey,” and is the actual voice and bugle call of a survivor of the Light Brigade charge, a man named Martin Leonard Landfried. With brimming pride, Landfried announces, “I am now going to sound the bugle that was sounded at Waterloo, and sound the charge that was sounded at Balaklava on that very same bugle, the 25th of October, 1854.” Landfried’s scratchy voice comes from a cylinder recording from 1890 that was reissued on a vinyl record that Rapp owned.

Friends of Shoreham Fort
 Martin Leonard Landfried (Photo: Friends of Shoreham Fort)

Landfried’s bugle notes smoothly segue into the strummed guitar notes of “Translucent Carriages.” Wikipedia calls this one of Rapp’s “most enduring songs,” a shivering tune whose title again harkens to yesteryear, and whose languid music includes ghostly background whisperings. One of them is the Herodotus quote “In peace, sons bury their fathers / In war, fathers bury their sons.” Another is the Rapp quote “Jesus raised the dead / But who will raise the living?”

The recurring chorus goes “Every time I see you, passing by, I have to wonder…why?” The identity of the “you” can be interpreted differently. Are they ancient carriages, perhaps Roman? Hearses? Maybe a woman? Is Rapp referring to Jesus? Or the pointlessness of war?

“Images of April” burrows deeper into the murky surreal. It features vocal echoes, flute, bird songs, and even frog croaks to paint a world of desolation, where springtime exists in fleeting images that only memory can summon. If you’re open to something strange, hypnotic, and completely different:

As unconventional as is “Images of April,” the next song, “There Was a Man,” is totally conventional—the guitar/vocal music, that is. The words, maybe less so. They relate a story about a stranger who one day arrives in a village. The stranger has a scar on his head, “where there used to be a crown.” He amazes the people by doing wonderful, magical things. Then the stranger leaves, sadly, suddenly. He has heard “the news from the war.”

“I Saw the World” is maybe the most passionate song on Balaklava. Rapp pleads, with palpable emotion in his voice, that he’s seen the world “spinning like a toy,” and “hate seems so small compared to it all.” A melodious cello and piano passage helps boost this song to another plane.

Rapp was an admirer of songwriter Leonard Cohen, and the “Swine” honor him with a rendition of Cohen’s “Suzanne.” They supposedly recorded this song in one take, while sitting on the studio floor, in the dark, with candles burning. (Yes, very Sixties.) The hushed ambience they created must have succeeded, since this is one of the most respectfully rendered versions of this acclaimed song.

nightingale
 Florence Nightingale

Other titles include “Guardian Angels” and “Lepers and Roses,” both of which further the odd, time-frozen quality of Balaklava. At the end of the record, there’s another vintage 1890 recording, this one of Florence Nightingale, who oversaw the nurses during the Crimean War. She prays that her Balaklava “comrades” will all return “safe to shore.” The record trails off with Trumpeter Landfried’s opening again. It’s a reminder that everything is a circle, that everything “comes back again,” both love and hate.

***

While not a perfect record, and certainly not for every ear, Balaklava’s best moments overflow with a perceptiveness, mystery, and beauty not usually occurring in rock music. Today, we hear the word “alternative”—which means “different” or “unconventional”—applied to a certain style of music (for the sake of convenience, branding, and marketing).  But Pearls Before Swine’s Balaklava defines the word alternative.  There’s not another record like it.

Even more, the record is a unique and fervent indictment of the idea that warfare is some kind of glorious endeavor. It is music with meaning. But unlike most anti-war artists of the Sixties—idealistic and well-meaning, but who relied on anthems or derivative platitudes about peace and love—Tom Rapp used irony, surrealism, and religious and historical allusions to present his worldview. He drew from a war in 1854 to indict a war of 1968, which still resonates in 2018.

We’re all familiar with that line in Tennyson’s famous poem…that universal expression of blind patriotic duty, which goes “Theirs not to reason why / Theirs but to do and die.” Tom Rapp and Pearls Before Swine question that sentiment with Balaklava. And, I think they’re also saying…shouldn’t everybody?

molly stewart by mel zimmer
Photo by Mel Zimmer

Curved Air

Personnel:
Sonja Kristina: lead vocals, acoustic guitar
Darryl Way: electric violin, keyboards, vocals
Francis Monkman: keyboards, guitar, VCS3 synthesizer
Florian Pilkington-Miksa: drums

Taking their name from experimental musician Terry Riley‘s influential album, A Rainbow in Curved Air, this English band occupied a respectable position in 1970s progressive rock scene, though the US market eluded them. Today, they’re usually mentioned in reference to a late-period drummer from the US: a Police-man named Stewart Copeland. Above personnel is the core of early lineups. (Band had revolving door of bass players.)

The nucleus were two classical music students: violinist/keyboardist Darryl Way (graduate of Royal College of Music) and keyboardist/guitarist Francis Monkman. They met in a London music store, discovered they both liked rock, then formed the band Sisyphus in 1969. After introduction to hippie-chick singer Sonja Kristina, veteran of London stage production of Hair (as well as interim singer in Strawbs, post-Sandy Denny), they changed name to Curved Air.

First album, Air Conditioning, was first British issue by industry behemoth Warner Bros., and notable for having one of the earliest picture discs. But bidding war, extravagant signing bonus, radio spot promos, and the gimmicky LP packaging backfired on group, as rock fans smelled hype. Record still managed to climb to eighth position in UK charts, helped by single, “It Happened Today.” Way’s violin and a foxy femme singer invited comparisons to West Coast act, It’s a Beautiful Day.

L to R: Monkman, Pilkington-Miksa, bassist Ian Eyre, Kristina, Way

Second Album (1971) was substantial musical improvement. Monkman focused more on keyboards than guitar, and at least one side is good mix of crafty rockers and melodic psych, Way writing music and Kristina doing lyrics. Second side, however, is Monkman-written, three songs, the extravagant, 13-minute “Piece of Mind” of most interest to hard prog fans. Single “Back Street Luv” from album was band’s commercial peak, hitting #4 on UK charts. (UK sleeve of Second Album is cool pastel diecut, while US has more generic, non-diecut art.)

Phantasmagoria (1972) continued respectable standard of predecessor, with risqué chamber-pop of “Not Quite the Same,” spooky “Marie Antoinette,” and Kristina’s acoustic showpiece, “Melinda (More or Less)” (reminiscent of “The Lady Rachel” by Kevin Ayers). But this third LP again highlighted compositional schism between Way-Kristina and Monkman and band splintered soon after album release. Way formed Darryl Way’s Wolf, Monkman went into session work. His keyboards, however, are highlight of groovy ’72  single, “Sarah’s Concern.”

Way’s classical, occasionally crazed electric violin playing, and his arrangements, were critical element of group sound, as were Monkman’s keyboard flourishes. But Kristina, drummer Florian Pilkington-Miksa, and (third) bassist Mike Wedgwood continued, bringing in 17-year-old violin and piano prodigy Eddie Jobson (future member of Roxy Music and Asia) for 1973 Air Cut album. Then Way and Monkman returned for Curved Air – Live (1975), designed as a tax write-off, before Monkman again exited, joining Phil Manzanera in 801 then forming classical rock outfit Sky with guitarist John Williams. Also exiting were original drummer Pilkington-Miksa (who joined Kiki Dee) and Wedgwood (who joined Caravan).

Final two studio albums were the ones with drummer Copeland. But the music was more conventional, less interesting, and possibly secondary to a budding romance between Kristina and him. They ultimately married (are now divorced) and have several kids.

***

Musically, Curved Air’s trademark is probably Darryl Way’s solo electric violin, a rare instrument in rock even by prog standards. His virtuosic playing betrays his appreciation of the classics, notably on the violin extravaganza “Vivaldi” from Air Conditioning, or “Cheetah” from Phantasmagoria. On top of that you get Kristina’s sexy, vibrato vocals, Monkman’s imaginative keyboard soundscapes, and a very underrated drummer in Pilkington-Miksa.

Curved Air could, and did, “rock out” well (see link below). They truly excelled where they could be slightly strange, principally on the shorter Way-Kristina songs. The best examples – and where Curved Air offered musical paths I wish they’d continued following – are on songs like the swinging sixties pastiche “Not Quite the Same,” seemingly a toss-off tune, but in truth a thoughtfully arranged synth and horns dynamo. Or the floating, carefully paced, autumnal song “Jumbo,” from Second Album. These are both proof that progressive rock could be progressive while also being humble.

Sonja Kristina has kept the flame alive with various lineups, concerts, and live releases. Way regularly releases solo records. After Sky, Monkman composed for film, notably the award-winning The Long Good Friday (1980). He died in 2023. Pilkington-Miksa died in 2021.

Singles:
It Happened Today / What Happens When You Blow Yourself Up (1971)
Vivaldi / It Happened Today (1971) (Italy only)
Back Street Luv / Everdance (1971)
Sarah’s Concern / Phantasmagoria (1972)
Baby Please Don’t Go / Broken Lady (1976)

Original Albums:
Air Conditioning (1970)
Second Album (1971)
Phantasmagoria (1972)
Air Cut (1973)
Curved Air – Live (1975)
Midnight Wire (1975)
Airborne (1976)

Reunion Album:
North Star (2017) (only Kristina and Pilkington-Miksa from original lineup)

Automatic Man

Band Personnel:
Bayeté: keyboards, synthesizer, vocals
Michael Shrieve: drums, percussion
Pat Thrall: guitar
Doni Harvey: bass, vocals
+ Glenn Symmonds: drums (replaced Shrieve)
+ Jerome Rimson: bass (replaced Harvey)

Formed in San Francisco around prodigious percussionist Michael Shrieve, who at age 20 set fire to the 1969 Woodstock festival with his drumming for Santana, with whom he remained for seven albums. In ’75, Shrieve hooked up with a classical- and jazz-trained pianist-composer named Todd Cochran, who had worked with jazz vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson, pianist Herbie Hancock, and saxophonist John Klemmer, and had made two low-profile solo albums for Prestige. Shrieve and Cochran – now calling himself “Bayeté” – pulled in two unknowns from the Bay Area, Pat Thrall (guitar) and Doni Harvey (bass) to form a band mixing funk-style soul with pop-philosophical space rock (or vice-versa). Think Earth Wind & Fire copulating with Utopia.

Island Records founder Chris Blackwell was impressed by the quartet’s rehearsals, signing it to a two-album deal. Automatic Man recorded its eponymous album in London at practically same time as Shrieve (an in-demand drummer) recorded an album with Steve Winwood and Stomu Yamashta in fusion supergroup Go. The lion’s share of the group’s compositions were by Bayeté, with minor help from manager-producer Lou Casabianca. Though not as illustrious as Go, the debut LP by Automatic Man is arguably more intriguing.

Shrieve’s intricate drumming is, no surprise, high in the mix (even if the vocal mix is flat). Thrall, also, lays down muscular axe flurries reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix. But the spotlight is on Bayeté. His cosmic compositions, with titles like “Atlantis Rising Theme (Turning of the Axis)” and “Interstellar Tracking Devices,” pick up where Hendrix left off with “Third Stone From the Sun” and “1983 (A Merman I Should Turn to Be).” That’s in addition to his sterling piano and synth work. There’s an opiate-dream seductiveness about the record, slightly conceptual, spacy, phantasmic, but also grounded in soul. The key is to ignore the banal lyrics and get washed along by the funky space rock, Shrieve’s complex percussion, and Bayeté’s and Harvey’s semi-stoned vocals. (And stare into the blank, doe eyes of that androgynous alien on the sleeve.)

“My Pearl” is the LP’s most accessible song and was pulled off as a single (see link below). It did moderately well on some of the cooler free-form rock stations in the fall of ’76, just breaking Billboard‘s Top 100. There was a ton of promise here…a multi-racial band of music prodigies making space rock that could fit snugly with either of the Dons: Kirshner (Rock Concert) or Cornelius (Soul Train).

But Shrieve quit the band soon after the debut album for session work with krautrocker Klaus Schulze and hard rocker Pat Travers. Then he formed another crack quartet, Novo Combo. (Their slick new wave song, “Up Periscope,” hit #43 on the charts in 1981.) Harvey followed Shrieve out. Bayeté and Thrall brought in replacements Jerome Rimson (bass) and Glenn Symmonds (drums) and made a second Automatic Man album…same generic space alien on the cover, but with a shocking-pink background. The music? Not bad, but the imaginative cosmic flourishes were abandoned due to “pressures of the industry,” and replaced by standard, disco-oriented R&B. A dismal critical and commercial reception consigned Visitors, then the group itself, to the scrap heap.

***

I thought Automatic Man would be a good chaser to my previous article on Libra, since both bands dabbled in prog and funk (an odd combination), and each managed only two albums. The difference is, while Libra greatly improved on its second outing, Automatic Man regressed (the ubiquitous “sophomore slump”). Still…on its first outing, this band proved not only that the concept of “fusion” wasn’t restricted to an amalgam of rock with jazz or classical, but that an American band was, indeed, capable of making decent progressive rock.

After Automatic Man, Todd “Bayeté” Cochran worked with Peter Gabriel and Carl Palmer and has supported a multitude of music and film endeavors. Thrall joined up with Pat Travers, Glenn Hughes (Deep Purple), and toured with Asia, among other projects. Rimson played bass with Phil Lynott and Van Morrison. Harvey and Symmonds also engaged in session work. (Harvey died in 2011.) Shrieve has played with musicians numbering in the hundreds, rejoined Santana in 2016 for one album, and today is a musical director in Seattle.

(Of note: Glenn Symmonds drummed periodically for the late Eddie Money. In 2015, Money laid off his whole band, and when he later reconstituted his band with his family (without Symmonds), the drummer filed a sordid age and medical disability discrimination suit. In 2019 it was rejected by an appellate court.)

(Thanks to Wikipedia for some of the information here.)

Single:
My Pearl / Wallpaper (1976)

Albums:
Automatic Man (1976)
Visitors (1977)

Libra

Band Personnel:
Federico D’Andrea: lead vocals, guitars, effects
Nicola Distaso: lead guitar, vocals, effects
Alessandro Centofanti: keyboards
Dino Cappa: bass, vocals
David Walter: drums, percussion
Walter Martino: drums (ex-Goblin, replaced Walter after first LP)

The tangled history of Libra revolves around Italian songwriter-guitarist-singer Federico D’Andrea. He began his tragically interrupted musical career in Rome with an unrecorded 1960s band, The Ancients, noteworthy for its singer, Manuel De Sica, son of legendary filmmaker and actor, Vittorio De Sica.

D’Andrea and The Ancients’ bassist left to form Myosotis and released two Italian-only singles. D’Andrea subsequently split to join up with members of the band Genesi (“Genesis” in English, but not that Genesis), featuring 4-octave-range, Scottish singer Alex Ligertwood, later of Brian Auger’s Oblivion ExpressJeff Beck Group, and Santana. This new assemblage (minus Ligertwood) called itself Logan Dwight.

Logan Dwight released one LP and one single, with English vocals, in 1972. While their music had patches of promise, it lacks cohesion and is marred by clunky arrangements, abrupt time changes, and weirdly placed strings and horns. D’Andrea may have recognized such, as he once again bolted, another guitarist in tow, to form Libra.

Although D’Andrea’s version of Libra existed a mere three years, 1973 to 1976, it did eke out two interesting albums. After appearing in a musical, Jacapone, Libra went to Milan to make first LP under producer Danny B. Besquet on a Sony Music subsidiary, Dischi Ricordi. This Italian issue had the ingenuous title Musica e Parole, which translates to “Music and Words.” Though Musica dispensed with the strings and horns of Logan Dwight, it still suffered schizophrenia, with awkward mix of jazz fusion, prog, and even funk. There were gorgeous, soft passages by D’Andrea, especially on “Born Today,” but these were compromised by a goodly amount of random soloing and meandering, Euro-style fusion.

L to R: Nicola Distaso, David Walter, Sandro Centofanti, Federico D’Andrea, Dino Cappa

Maybe due to the funk elements, but Besquet managed a whopping 10-album deal for Libra with, of all labels, U.S. titan Motown, which had already made incursions into rock music (and white artists) with its subsidiary Rare Earth (named after the “Get Ready” group). Whatever the reason for signing Libra, Motown released an English-language version of their debut, retitled simply Libra, with vastly improved sleeve art by Peter Lloyd, illustrator of space-themed album sleeves for likes of Rod StewartJefferson Starship, and Kansas.

In 1975 and with Motown support, Libra commenced touring U.S., opening for Frank ZappaArgent, the TubesSteppenwolfChicago, and Savoy Brown. They also squeezed in recording sessions in Los Angeles (where Motown had opened offices) and produced the much-improved Winter Day’s Nightmare: tighter arrangements than the debut, with the electric guitars more attuned to D’Andrea’s compositions. Additionally, the light prog/fusion/funk elements meld better. The standout track is the opener, “Nothing Comes, Nothing Goes (Pt. I & II),” with its mellow mellotron, pastoral sound effects, and gently philosophical lyric. The only negatives on Nightmare – if they can be called such – are some head-scratching lyrics (one song title is the classy “It’s Not Tasteful to Fly”…maybe writing in a foreign language is a good thing)…and D’Andrea’s limited Bowie-esque vocalizing. Although his high notes can be painful listening, he makes up for his voice limitations with unbounded enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, Libra had a falling out with Besquet during recording. All returned to Italy except D’Andrea, who stayed to complete his vocals, and the 10-LP Motown deal got lost in L.A. smog. Winter Day’s Nightmare was roundly ignored and hit cutout bins almost immediately.  As with D’Andrea’s previous bands, Libra left this mortal coil while practically infants.

Sadly, D’Andrea’s time was also short. In 1978, in Rome, he was fatally struck by a car. He was only 30.

***

As with Bread, Love and Dreams, I discovered this band inadvertently, and as with B, L and D, I feel they could have been much more successful had they had better management and production – even despite game-changing punk rock looming on their horizon. Unlike most punks, all the members of Libra played their instruments well. And D’Andrea definitely had songwriting talent. Musical peers such as Brian Auger and Billy Cobham certainly recognized this; Cobham is on record complimenting their dynamics, ideas, and composing, all while keeping “their Italian roots intact.”

In 1977, Centofanti, Cappa, and Martino contributed to the soundtrack of horror producer Mario Bava‘s last flick, Schock (or “Shock“), teaming with the keyboardist from Italian prog-rock band Goblin, with the resulting soundtrack album being attributed to Libra. But without D’Andrea’s involvement…well…(I haven’t heard Shock, so I can’t offer an op-ed.) The only other Italian rock band I’m familiar with are legendary proggers Premiata Forneria Marconi (PFM), the Rolling Stones of progressive rock; still cooking pasta after an incredible 55 years. So, Libra notwithstanding, perhaps not all Italian rock bands expire in infancy.

In fact…per Nicola Distaso, all members minus D’Andrea are still separately active musically.

Albums:
Musica e Parole (1975) (Italy only)
Libra (1975) (English-language re-release of above)
Winter Day’s Nightmare (1976)