Revisiting A&M Records No. 42
Spooky Tooth: ‘It’s All About’ (July ’68)
Reissued as ‘Tobacco Road’ (June ’71)
Wish I could remember when and where and how I got the wrong impression of Spooky Tooth so I can revisit my younger self once time travel becomes possible and point out how misguided my assessment would be.
[A wider shade of confusion.]
Revisiting A&M Records No. 19
Procol Harum: ‘Procol Harum’ (Sept ’67)
There was a time, so soon after their ascendency to superstar status, when the most enduring incarnation of Fleetwood Mac was on such good terms with former frontman Bob Welch that it remains baffling why he was left out of their Hall of Fame induction and acrimony ensured for decades.
Ok, yes, the fact that he sued them in ’94 for unpaid royalties probably had lots to do with that snub. Rewind to November 1981, however, when this star-studded set was captured at West Hollywood’s world-famous Roxy Theatre, and you’ll find they were rarely chummier.
Wait, wait, wait … what’s this?
Is this a #VinylTwosDays pairing appearing on Friday instead?
Thorough readers — and thank you very much, you’re why I bother Instababbling — might have noticed a footnote on my previous post indicating I’m unshackling my chronicle of A&M Records from once-a-week confinement. Haven’t decided yet what hashtag (if any) ought to replace #TuesdaysWithJerry, in tribute to late label co-founder Jerry Moss. But that’s really no reason to stop me from plowing ahead.
Shooting from the hip here, so feel free to kindly counter this claim in comments, but I suspect there was no more prolific group on either side of the Atlantic in 1969 than Fairport Convention, and only Led Zeppelin achieved more impactful strides within those 12 months.
FC is the subject of this installment of #TuesdaysWithJerry, my journey through A&M Records’s past, in tribute to that label’s late co-founder Jerry Moss. I’ll get to why you’re as likely to find UK editions on Island Records as stateside pressings.
First off: Could they have picked a more distant, boring, pointless photo for this thing?
The frenetically blurry pic adorning the original Live back in December ‘80 said everything. This poorly framed glimpse taken from Loge 57 Row Z says absolutely nothing beyond ‘these are the five people in this band.’ The shot of them embracing inside the gatefold would have made a much better cover.
I did warn you there would be more of this stuff. Nearly a quarter of the way through this century we have easy access to the cream of Fleetwood Mac’s concert crop from three-quarters of the way through the previous century — and at this point that almost seems by design.
Mick Fleetwood was keen to put out a live set not long after ‘Rumours’ arose but the rest of the band shot the idea down. Didn’t stop them from recording an estimated 400 shows between ’75 and ’80 during increasingly in-demand tours that built this particular Mac’s reputation almost as much as their multiplatinum monoliths.
That’s right, Mac watchers, you’ve guessed correctly: It’s time now to resurrect a trove of Tusk-an tour mementos. Buckle up, kids, because there are two more live sets right behind this one — literally seven LPs & 14 sides of performances to get through before we take a fresh look at 1982’s Mirage.
We’re technically jumping into the ‘70s with these compilations when there’s still plenty left in the ‘60s worth mentioning. The Procol Harum assortment with the inexplicably celestial cover is from ’73, Spooky Tooth’s set with peeking tiger from ’76.
At last: success for Fleetwood Mac!
Finally my sputtering deep dive into the enduring work of the late Christine McVie has reached its crucial turning point, the classic that ushered in new hires Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham for the 10th lineup of this revolving-door talent collective, not even a decade old by the summer of ‘75, when their own self-titled ‘White Album’ debuted. With it came the longest lasting, most influential, scene-shapingly famous form of what remains an endlessly amorphous entity.
