Although the documentation on this collection of early
Alex Harvey rarities is substandard, it's a valuable assortment of odds and ends that fills in the gaps of much of his evolution in the 1960s, a period during which he didn't record too much. Well, it
probably fills in gaps from the 1960s, because few of these 19 tracks are given precise dates, though there's a note that they cover "his earlier work from his Soulband days up to 1968." To be fair to the compilers, the material was taken from largely undated acetates that fell into the possession of his one-time manager David Firmstone and eventually located and purchased by a collector long after the death of both
Harvey and Firmstone. So it'll probably never be known where, when, and why much of this was done. But it's evident from listening that it roughly covers the period between 1964-1968, years in which
Harvey evolved from an energetic but derivative, second-division British R&B/rock singer to the start of something more original. It's mid-'60s
r&b that's heard on the first half-dozen cuts, and though it is derivative, in fact it's pretty gritty and enjoyable, whether in a rustic
folk-blues mode (a different version of "The Blind Man" than the one he put on his first LP, and the
folk-like protest "The Ballad of JFK"), '50s-styled
rock & roll, or hard-edged full-band British
r&b ("Marie Bailey"). Then things start to get pretty weird and psychedelically influenced, with the instrumental "Please Be Reasonable" mixing
jazz flute and piano,
blues-rock guitar, and some unidentifiably eerie Middle Eastern-like instrument. Other tracks, while more avowedly
blues-/
folk-/
soul-influenced than the '70s
Sensational Alex Harvey Band records (including the
Bob Dylan cover "The Wicked Messenger"), are clearly adding theatrical and satirical elements, like "Big Louis" (which would be re-recorded on the first
SAHB album as "There's No Lights on the Christmas Tree Mother, They're Burning Big Louie Tonight"). On "Electric Blues #2," in fact, he sounds like he's getting fed up enough with being an unheralded British bluesman that he has decided to take the piss out of the whole movement. Weirdest of all, however, are two
psychedelic/
classical hymns recorded with the Brighton Festival Chorus that are a little silly, perhaps, but also undeniably otherworldly and fascinating. The bonus tracks -- it's not explained why these are "bonus tracks," incidentally (perhaps some were not on the acetates found in Firmstone's possession?) -- include the decidedly sillier "Grandfathers Clock Medley," taken from a children's record setting nursery rhymes to rock music. Also among the bonus tracks is the near-lounge pop of "Take Me Love Me," which the liner notes admit might not be
Harvey. Which brings up another point: although details are given for many of the songs, they're sketchy and given little context, so fans not familiar with the ins and outs of
Harvey's early, ill-documented career are going to feel lost and confused as to what might have been done when. What's more, the final cut, the acoustic "I'm Going to Stand By You," fades out after a mere 20 seconds; the liner notes don't say why or say anything at all about the track. The liner notes do make a point of devoting a page to "why you should buy and not copy this CD," but if they'd just put a little more care into the packaging, the compilers would have earned enough respect to make that warning unnecessary. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
