Published on Jul 13, 1999
If it wasn’t for my aunt playing Grand Funk’s 1973 watershed
album
We’re An American Band around me when I was about six years
old, chances are I wouldn’t have found the desire when I was in
high school to acquire as many albums of this band as possible.
While Mark Farner and crew were hardly one-hit wonders, sometimes I
wonder what caused people to look at this band in the late
’60s-early ’70s as the next big thing.
Their debut album,
On Time, shows occasional flashes of brilliance, but not
nearly enough to suggest to me, some 30 years since its release,
that this trio was going to make a big splash on the music scene.
It also didn’t suggest that the band would suffer from an identity
crisis for some time; they’d be known as “Grand Funk Railroad” and
“Grand Funk” for some time.
This particular album might be best remembered for the song
“Heartbreaker,” which became one of the earliest hits for Grand
Funk Railroad. The 3/4-time tempo creates almost a rock waltz, with
the harmony vocals of drummer Don Brewer and guitarist/keyboardist
Farner lighting up the track. These days, it sounds a little dated,
but I can still hear some of the magic that powered this track when
it first hit the airwaves.
Bassist Mel Schacher could well be the sole bright spot
throughout the course of this album, weaving his way through
intricate bass lines like it was second nature to him. One of the
better tracks on
On Time, “Are You Ready,” gives Schacher the chance to
demonstrate his skill, and he does so without seeming like he was
showing off on the bass. Other tracks that stand out on this album
include “Time Machine” and “Into The Sun”.
Unfortunately, the passage of time has not been kind to the bulk
of
On Time. Tracks like “Anybody’s Answer,” “Call Yourself A
Man” and “Ups And Downs” all show too many signs of age, and are
more nostalgia than cutting-edge rock today. The songwriting seemed
to weaken as the album progressed, even to the point of going to a
bridge of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” – good grief!
Another sign of age that is embarassingly present on this album
is the extended drum solo of “T.N.U.C.” (Gee, wonder what
that spells backwards?) It’s one thing if a drummer really
has the skills to make their entire kit come alive, a la Neil
Peart. It’s another thing when a drummer like Brewer turns a solo
opportunity into so much “whack-whack-whack” patterns on the snare,
one tom-tom and a cymbal. “T.N.U.C.” would have been better named
“T.U.M.S.”
Granted,
On Time was a debut effort, and usually I’m a little more
understanding with a band’s first try. But the hype that was built
up around Grand Funk Railroad in their early days (which,
admittedly, I wasn’t even alive for a lot of) makes me still expect
to be blown out of my shoes when the needle hits the vinyl of this
record. Sadly, that didn’t happen often enough.
On Time is not a common album to lay your hands on these
days (though it is available on CD), but unless you’re someone who
just absolutely has to own every disc by a band you’re into, you’d
be best off sticking with the greatest hits compilations.