Published on Apr 29, 2004
One of the biggest arguments I have made in support of file
sharing is that people can be exposed to groups whom they might not
have been willing to try otherwise. Face it: would you spend $18 on
a CD having never heard a note the artist played, or would you
rather try out a song you downloaded, discover you liked it, and
then went out and spent the money on the CD?
As a result, I’ve been discovering a lot of bands who have been
all but forgotten with the passage of time. Make no mistake, at one
point some of these groups were well-known, but in today’s
fast-food society, where the flavor of the month is shoved down
people’s throats via the present musical industry, these bands are
collecting dust at the bottom of the cut-out bins. All they need is
a chance to be re-discovered by today’s generation, dusted off, and
enjoyed again.
With this concept in mind, boys and girls, please meet Wishbone
Ash.
Best known as a rock group with progressive bends to their
music, Andy Powell and company started out life as a blues-based
rock band who weren’t afraid to use multiple lead guitars and lead
singers. Their 1970 self-titled debut disc may only contain six
songs, but it isn’t the quantity of material which sets this disc
apart from the pack, it’s the quality contained therein.
The entire first half (or first side, for those of us who
remember vinyl) is, quite simply, unstoppable. Leading off with a
blues-shuffle on “Blind Eye,” the band — guitarist/vocalist
Powell, guitarist/vocalist Ted Turner, bassist/vocalist Martin
Turner and drummer Steve Upton — locks the listener into an
unstoppable groove that makes you wonder why you’ve never heard of
these guys before. The power continues in “Lady Whiskey,” leading
to the crowning moment of this disc for me, “Errors Of My Ways.”
Sounding a lot like an Irish dirge (albeit a lot more lively),
Wishbone Ash proves to be both introspective and celebratory at the
same time in words and music, creating a track which is just
screaming to be re-discovered by album-oriented radio. (I swear, if
any station ever gave me a chance to program and host a show of
hidden treasures, this would be one of the first songs on my
playlist. Call me — I work cheap.)
The second half is where things stumble just a little bit.
“Queen Of Torture” is another powerful rock number with one foot
securely planted in the band’s blues heritage, but Wishbone Ash
then moves into experimental territory. Both “Handy” and “Phoenix”
clock in at over 10 minutes in length, and each one occasionally
feels like a bit here and a bit there could have been lopped off
without hurting the overall song. “Handy,” in particular, takes a
little too long to develop, and its sudden detour in the last few
minutes into a blues-rock song is unexpected, even a little
anticlimactic. And it’s not that these songs are bad — indeed, the
time on “Phoenix” just seems to fly by. But for a first attempt on
record, it sometimes sounds like Powell and crew bit off just a
little more than they could chew.
Wishbone Ash is the kind of disc that makes you wonder why
this band has been all but forgotten in today’s musical climate,
and why you never hear them on the radio anymore. You want to know
what keeps someone like me interested in music? It’s re-discovering
groups like Wishbone Ash. Come and see what all the fuss is
about… you’ll quickly be converted as well.