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Canadian rock luminary Neil Merryweather took members from Californian blues rock band Mama Lion into the studio and, somewhat accidentally, recorded two great albums as Heavy Cruiser. The band’s Heavy Cruiser and Lucky Dog albums were gatherings of ideas more than albums of firm intent, but the session engineers and the band were impressed with the eight-track demos and improvised tunes (and management got a sniff of success) so the songs were duly bound in jacket covers. 

The band’s eponymous 1972 debut was a heavy, psyched-out guitar and organ duel—with in-studio jams and distortion-soaked covers making up an exuberant and buoyant LP. While contractual obligations caused the band members’ names to go unlisted on both Lucky Dog and Heavy Cruiser, word soon got out about both LPs’ commitment to fuzzing things up, and rolling with the result—and thus, Heavy Cruiser finds itself in the pantheon of obscure collectable rockers.

The Artwoods were formed in 1963, and over the next two years became an extremely popular live attraction, rivaling groups such as the Animals, although, despite releasing a clutch of singles and an album, their record sales never reflected this popularity. Singer Arthur Wood, from whom the band took their name, was the elder brother of The Rolling Stones' Ronnie Wood. He had been a vocalist with Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated for a short period during 1962, simultaneously fronting his own group, the Art Wood Combo.

When keyboardist Jon Lord and guitarist Derek Griffiths joined from Red Bludd's Bluesicians they re-christened themselves the Artwoods. Keef Hartley, formerly with Rory Storm & The Hurricanes, joined on drums in '64 and the band turned professional, secured a residency at London's 100 Club and gained a recording contract with Decca Records.

The intended debut single, a cover of Muddy Waters' "Hoochie Coochie Man" was shelved in favour of a version of an old Leadbelly song, Sweet Mary". Although it didn't reach the Charts it got sufficient airplay to bring them a lot of live work, including an appearance on the first live edition of 'Ready, Steady, Go!' The second record, "Oh My Love", was another blues cover. Like it's predecessor, and subsequent releases, it failed to chart. 

The Artwoods were dropped by Decca at the end of 1966 and signed a one record deal with Parlophone, but "What Shall I Do" also flopped. Later in 1967 a final "one-off" single appeared on Fontana under the name "St. Valentine's Day Massacre" but by the time of it's release the Artwoods had effectively ceased to exist.

The Artwoods' early records today stand up well against the work of more successful groups such as the Stones, the Yardbirds or ironically, the Birds, who included Art's younger brother Ron. But at the time they came out, despite appearances on programs like Ready, Steady, Go! their singles never seemed to connect with the record-buying public. In live performance, on the other hand, it was a different matter. 

They had a virtuoso lineup, Lord'spiano and organ sound was a great complement to Wood's singing, Griffith's guitar work was tastefully flashy, and Keef Hartley was animated as well as powerful, with a big sound on the drums. Club audiences always knew they were good for a great show and the band loved playing live. Ultimately, in fact, the group's success in touring and their love of playing live may have hurt them. 

The 18 songs on this release, comprising the group's entire single and EP output, are some of the best British-spawned R&B of their time, and can stand alongside the best work of the Animals, Manfred Mann, or the Yardbirds in that vein. The Artwoods were a virtuoso outfit from the get-go, with a natural feel for the music as singers and players, whether they were working in the vein of Sam and Dave or Booker T. and the MG's, or just having fun in the studio as they do on several of the B-sides represented here. 

They were good at improvising in the studio and had a slightly more jazzy feel to their playing than a lot of their rivals -- their records are amazingly busy, between Jon Lord's piano and organ flourishes, Keef Hartley's very flashy drumming, and Malcolm Pool's extremely active bass work; what's more, on their B-sides, it's possible to hear the very beginnings of what became progressive rock in the hands of outfits like the Nice, at a point when the virtuosity was still focused on R&B and soul. Even their cover of "Brother Can You Spare a Dime" works within the context of British R&B. 

The Artwoods treaded a fine line between Manfred Mann and Georgie Fame & the Blue Flames, but they really sounded like no one else. There's not a bad cut here, even the trio of pop-rock covers ("A Taste of Honey," "Our Man Flint," etc.) that they hesitated to release at the time for fear of looking like they were selling out. The mastering is excellent, and if this were an LP, it's the sort of release purchasers would need more than one of because they'd wear out their first copies. 

by Bruce Eder

Argent's back catalog remains in a parlous state 20 years on from the group's peak, with great swathes of the repertoire unavailable on CD, and even some of the band's best-known and loved recordings are still chained up in a vault somewhere. The group's transformation from the logical successors to the Zombies into one of the finest prog bands of the early '70s, almost any song of which would be a shoo-in for some future "best-of" Argent compilation. 

It is true, of course, that Argent was prone to excess on occasion - what is remarkable is just how naturally the band approached that state, as songs build on their own momentum toward peaks that even the best oiled of the group's peers audibly struggled to approach. The combination of Rod Argent's keys and Russ Ballard's words and vocals is, of course, key to this success. 

"Celebration" , “Chained”,  “Pleasure”, all have "classic" stamped across them, even this early into the group's career. And as "Where Are We Going Wrong" brings the CD to a halt, one is left wondering what on earth the bandmembers were talking about...they weren't going wrong anywhere.

by Dave Thompson

Focus here featured virtuoso guitarist Jan Akkerman for the last time, not to work with his long-term writing partner Thijs Van Leer for another ten years. Mother Focus also sees Focus' highly skilled bass player Bert Ruiter try his hand in songwriting. The outcome includes the one of the finest funk tracks on the album -- the hilarious "I Need a Bathroom." 

The album begins with quite possibly the finest track on the album -- and maybe the most typical Focus -- the titular "Mother Focus." The funky theme underlying the number sets the mood for the rest of the LP with aplomb. Indeed, Mother Focus is far from the usual instrumental material. For this reason, Mother Focus may not appeal to the usual fans of the Dutch proggers. 

by Ben Davies

While Focus 3 did have some great stuff, I also thought the album got bogged down by excessive guitar and drum solos ("Anonymous II" was the guilty verdict). The band then recorded Live at the Rainbow in 1973, which was recorded at the Rainbow Theatre in London during the peak of their success. They were to record a followup to Focus 3, but the band was starting to have one of their bad times, Jan Akkerman not wanting to talk to anyone and Pierre van der Linden having enough of it and leaving. 

Some of the material for this never-released album ended up on the outtakes album Ship of Memories. Pierre simply teamed up with ex-Exseption keyboardist Rick van der Linden (no relation) and ex-Cuby & the Blizzards bassis Jaap van Eik to form a band called Ace, but since a British band was already calling themselves Ace (the group with a pre-Squeeze/pre-Mike & the Mechanics Paul Carrack, who had that hit with "How Long"), this Dutch supergroup had to call themselves Trace. Focus simply added a new drummer named Colin Allen, who a member of the Scottish group Stone the Crows. He was no match for Pierre van der Linden, so he simply resorted to more conventional rock drumming.

So the new album with this new drummer, Hamburger Concerto ends up being regarded by many as their last truly great album, many go as far as regarding it as one of their best, and that I can agree. It was the rock critics who were less kind to this album. "Delitae Musicae" is a short, medieval piece played on lute by Jan Akkerman. This piece, no doubt, showed Akkerman's love for early and medieval music. "Harem Scarem" is the first cut with full band interaction. You'll notice right away this piece isn't as intense and in your face as "Hocus Pocus". And because Colin Allen isn't Pierre van der Linden, the band focused on a more sophisticated sound, which works just fine. 

You'll still hear that classic Focus sound, with the yodeling, and Akkerman's trademark guitar playing, and organ playing from Thijs van Leer. Thijs also gives us some "yeah, yeah, yeah" voices in this song too. "La Cathedral de Strasbourg" shows a more the more medieval influences of the band, with Akkerman giving some medieval style playing on his electric guitar, but there's also full band interaction, as well. "Birth" has a more Jethro Tull-like feel, especially from Thijs van Leer's flute playing. Then comes the side-length title track. Starts off classical-like, but then there's no mistaking this is simply a great prog rock piece, there are some mellower passages that get me thinking a bit of Pink Floyd. Synthesizers make their first mark on a Focus album, Thijs van Leer started to include an ARP Odyssey with his usual gear of Hammond organ and piano.

This album doesn't feature any drum solo at all, unlike their previous albums, but then Colin Allen had no need for them. This is truly a great album to have, and I highly recommend it! 

by Ben Miler

Cactus may have never amounted to anything more than a half-hearted, last-minute improvised supergroup, but that don't mean their eponymous 1970 debut didn't rock like a mofo. The already quasi-legendary Vanilla Fudge rhythm section of Bogert and Appice may have provided the backbone of the band's business cards, and soulful, ex-Amboy Duke Rusty Day brought the voice, but it was arguably former Detroit Wheels guitarist Jim McCarty who was the true star in the Cactus galaxy, spraying notes and shredding solos all over album highlights such as "You Can't Judge a Book By the Cover," "Let Me Swim," and, most notably, a manic, turbocharged version of "Parchman Farm." 

The fact that Cactus chose to tackle this classic blues song just a year after it'd been blasted into the fuzz-distortion stratosphere by Blue Cheer betrays -- at best -- a healthy competitive spirit within the early-'70s hard rock milieu, and at worst it suggests something of a mercenary nature to Cactus' motives, but that's an issue for the surviving bandmembers to duke it out over in the retirement home. And we digress -- for the blistering closing duo of "Oleo" and "Feel So Good" (complete with bass and drum solo slots) easily certifies the Cactus LP as one of the best hard rock albums of the then brand-new decade, bar none. Too bad the illustrious members of Cactus would quickly lose interest in this band project and deliver increasingly mediocre efforts in the years that followed. 

by Eduardo Rivadavia

Unless you lived in Quebec during the late 1960s, you more than likely have never been exposed to the sweet psychedelic sounds of Oliver Klaus. Finally enjoying a CD reissue, more than 30 years after its initial pressing of merely 700 copies, Oliver Klaus's 1967-1970 is a priceless artefact from a bygone era.

Comprised of Jerry Cushen on bass and brothers Bryan and Maurice Singfield, on drums and guitar respectively, Oliver Klaus grew out of the ashes of the locally successful Les Mini-Mod, who gained notoriety for performing in mini-skirts. Disillusioned by the public's interest in their costuming rather than their music, the boys in the band decided to concentrate less on gimmickry and more on composition and experimentation.

The result is the excellent 1967-1970, a melange of 60s pop, folk, rock, and psychedelia. Principal songwriter Maurice Singfield sounds uncannily like Stephen Stills circa Buffalo Springfield and the rest of the band, while a little less polished, follows suit with this comparison. Listening closely to the album one is forced to ask the question: Why didn't Oliver Klaus receive national acclaim similar to fellow Canadians The Guess Who?

The answer is simple. Though they had made many contacts through their constant gigging around Quebec, the group decided to retain complete artistic control by releasing the album themselves. Arguably, Oliver Klaus was the first do-it-yourself band in Canadian music history.

Oliver Klaus's 1967-1970 is a treasure for both the casual psychedelic listener as well as the vinyl junkie. This reissue includes the original LP in its completion, covers of tracks by Donovan ("Season of the Witch"), Jefferson Airplane ("3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds"), and even Neil Diamond ("Kentucky Woman"), as well as a slew of stellar unreleased live tracks. Hearing Oliver Klaus will make you wonder how many other great Canadian bands from rock `n' roll's golden era have drifted into obscurity.

by Ryan Wugalter