The Immediate Family – Rubiyat

The Immediate Family, like many bands during the turbulent Sixties, probably could have had at least a modicum of success, if only the stars had aligned. They had a lot of things going for them: industry connections, eclectic tastes (one of their early demos was a cover of a José Feliciano tune), professional management, and plenty of studio time.

It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. The band was very active, gigging throughout the East Bay and central California. They competed in band battles. They played on the same bill with such luminaries as Love and Them, and even opened for the Doors at the Fillmore (as their audition – sadly, they didn’t make it).

But their attempt at recording at the best studio in the Bay Area – Golden State Recorders – went awry. The Immediate Family released no material during their lifespan (and it’s not exactly easy to find after the fact, either – I’ve only been able to locate one track on the interweb).

And that’s too bad, because the band proffered an interesting brand of psychedelia, from what I’ve been able to hear (one track). “Rubiyat“, is proof positive of the exciting changes that rock music was going through in the Sixties.

In the Nuggets booklet, Alec Palao compares “Rubiyat” to the sound that Pink Floyd was developing overseas in England (the Floydsters were recording their debut album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, at about the same time the Immediate Family were in the studio).

To me, the sound of the Immediate Family on “Rubiyat” is not as overtly psychedelic as the sound of early Pink Floyd. There are no audio gimmicks, no trippy Barrett-esque lyrics, no unconventional chord changes, no paeans to astronomy or space, no whimsical childlike melodies. If anything, it sounds even more modern than that.

With its cascading, baroque-tinged organ solo, “Rubiyat” presages the progressive rock movement, or the heavy psychedelia that would be developed in 1968-69. It even brings to mind Santana‘s album Caravanserai, which shares a Middle Eastern theme.

At any rate, it’s cool to think of a bunch of East Bay kids, scarcely out of high school, setting the words of Omar Khayyam to music in one of San Francisco’s premier recording studios, boldly stepping into a brave new world where you could not only use twelfth-century Middle Eastern poetry as song lyrics, but were encouraged to do so.

That, to me, is the true spirit of Sixties music, and why the Nuggets collections are so fascinating. Where else are you going to hear stuff like this?

The History

Like so many other bands that formed in America in the mid-Sixties, the Immediate Family was formed in the wake of the arrival of an irresistible force, which swept into New York in February of 1964 – four young men in collarless suits from a mysterious land known as “Liverpool.” No, it wasn’t Gerry and the Pacemakers.

Inspired by the Beatles (who they undoubtedly saw on The Ed Sullivan Show), guitarist/vocalist Tim Barnes and Terry Davis, a bassist whom Barnes had met in high school, got together and began jamming.

The duo recruited Kriss Kovacs, who played keyboards and contributed the lion’s share of the songwriting. With the addition of Mike Mau on drums (later replaced by Dave Brown), and a succession of “dangerous” names (de rigueur for any garage band in 1965 – first they were the Nomads, then the Mongrels), the lineup was complete.

Later, Mike Hamm would join on bass, which freed up Davis to play rhythm guitar.

The Immediate Family. Notice how Tim Barnes *clearly* appears to be in charge. Also, note Kovacs' stiff appearance.

The Immediate Family. Notice how Tim Barnes *clearly* appears to be in charge. Also, note Kovacs’ stiff appearance.

Kriss’ father, former pro tennis player Frank Kovacs, had a luxurious house in Berkeley, which provided the band with a lavish practice space. But it was Frank Kovacs’ wife, Judy Davis, who gave the group their first big break.

Davis, the “voice coach to the stars” (as she called herself), introduced the band to Frank Werber of Trident Productions, who provided the fledgling band with studio time to record demos.

Werber introduced them to John Stewart of the famous Kingston Trio, who were being displaced in popularity by the new folk-rock and British bands. Stewart began working with the Mongrels, teaching them his songs and influencing their style. He also suggested they change their name to something less juvenile – the Immediate Family.

With a new name, and some famous (and well-connected) patrons, the newly-christened Immediate Family began gigging and recording demos. It seemed that the wind was at their backs, and subsequently Judy Davis introduced them to Leo De Gar Kulka, president of Golden State Recorders, who signed the band.

Sadly, despite interest from Tower Records (who, incidentally, had the rights to the U.S. distribution of Pink Floyd), and Liberty Records, the sessions at Golden State broke down, and nothing was released.

It’s unclear why the studio sessions fell apart. According to bandleader Barnes, the band was just not ready – according to Alec Palao, Kriss Kovacs (who wrote “Rubiyat”), couldn’t handle the stress of hashing out a record deal.

Kulka didn’t give up on the band. He suggested a name change (to the Yellow Brick Road). The newly christened group recorded another original, but according to Barnes, “the music scene was starting to wind down.” The Yellow Brick Road called it quits.

The Immediate Family members (sans Hamm) would regroup a year later, calling themselves the Fox. Alas, despite their foxy new moniker (and radio airplay of their demos), the Fox saw no action. In 1970, guitarist Barnes and original drummer Mike Mau formed Stoneground – who, incidentally, featured Sal Valentino, formerly of the Beau Brummels!

The Song: Rubiyat

Written by Kriss Kovacs and Omar Khayyam

Recorded in San Francisco, CA (March 1967)

Originally unissued: first collected on What A Way To Come DownBig Beat [UK] #173 (August 1997)

Personnel:

Tim Barnes – lead vocals, lead guitar

Terry Davis – rhythm guitar, backing vocals

Kriss Kovacs – Hammond organ, piano, backing vocals

Mike Hamm – bass

Mike Mau or Dave Brown – drums

with:

Unknown – tambourine

Produced by Larry Goldberg & Leo De Gar Kulka

Note: It’s unclear when Dave Brown replaced Mike Mau on drums.

I have decided to do song summaries from now on for each song, because they’re fun 🙂

The song begins with a layered introduction. The lead guitar plays a descending figure, the rhythm guitar comes in with a counter-melody, and then the bass jumps in with yet another counter-melody! Cool shit, man. Kovacs’ organ comes in after this in the background.

The three singers (lead and backing) sing in unison, creating a chantlike feel. It’s easy to imagine yourself on some sort of caravan journey across the desert, or around a campfire, surrounded by chanting, robed figures, hashish smoke drifting up in curls. I won’t reproduce the lyrics, but you can find them here. (They’re beautiful, you should read them.)

Then, major chords! The organ swells, and for a second it seems that the song is going to modulate to a major key. But it’s a mirage, not an oasis, and soon we’re back to minor-key droning.

The major chords occur again, and then the music lifts for an organ solo. The solo is intricate, Bach-inspired, and unlike anything else on this compilation.

After the solo, the band repeats the lines they sang previously, and the song gradually fades.

In just two minutes and thirty-four seconds, the Immediate Family take you on a trip through ancient Persia. To say this was completely groundbreaking for 1967 is to understate the matter immensely. However, I cannot give this song the full A+. It feels almost unfinished, like there was more to add (perhaps a guitar solo or some sort of atmospheric bridge), but the breakdown of the recording sessions probably prevented this from happening. Ah, what could have been!

Rating: A

Listen to the song here.

The Sons of Champlin – Fat City

The Sons of Champlin may have never charted a hit album or single, but they built up a strong reputation on the basis of their live performances in the ballrooms of San Francisco. They also managed to last longer than most San Francisco bands of the Sixties. They disbanded in 1977, by which time the ballroom era was a distant memory.

Their sound was unique. Incorporating horns and a Hammond organ, the Sons mixed soul, R&B, and psychedelic music to create a sound that was unique, and presaged the sound of later outfits like Chicago or Blood, Sweat and Tears.

Alas, the Sons of Champlin never saw commercial success. Perhaps the band wasn’t interested in it. Perhaps they were a bit too slow out of the gates; they didn’t release a single until 1967, nor an album until 1969, despite having been formed in 1965. In any case, the Sons were never big sellers, although they did have a few charting records in the ’70s.

The roots of the Sons of Champlin were in the Opposite Six, who had first formed in January 1963 as the Triodes. Over the next two and a half years, the group would build up a reputation in Marin County, backing up such artists as the Coasters and Dick and Dee Dee.

The advent of the Vietnam War, and the draft, in late 1965 led to the breakup of the Opposite Six. Not to be dissuaded, Six organist/vocalist Bill Champlin and saxophonist Tim Cain decided to form a new band, named the Masterbeats. They added guitarist Terry Haggerty, bassist John Prosser, and drummer Jim Myers.

The group played one gig as the Masterbeats, than changed their name to the Sons of Father Champlin (Bill Champlin, although only 18, was married and a father). After another gig, they simplified this to the Sons of Champlin.

In early 1966, Prosser left the band and was replaced by Al Strong. The new lineup would last long enough to record the band’s first single.

During the summer of 1966, the Sons played a series of gigs at the Fillmore Auditorium (a drunken incident involving Champlin and Van Morrison of Them resulted in the Sons being banned from the venue for two years). Impresario Frank Werber was in the audience one night. He subsequently signed the band to his Trident Productions label.

The Sons of Champlin recorded an album’s worth of material at Werber’s North Beach studio. Their first single, the sunshiney, organ-driven “Sing Me a Rainbow” (with the featured song, “Fat City” as a B-side) was released in February of 1967 on Verve Records, who had a deal with Trident.

Although it received some airplay in the Bay area, the single failed to chart nationwide. Its failure caused Trident to cancel the release of the planned album. It would take nearly another 2 years for the Sons to release their debut album.

More to come when I review the song “1982-A”.

The Song: Fat City

Written by Rob Moitoza

Recorded in San Francisco, CA (September 1966)

Released as Verve single #10500 (February 1967)

Personnel:

Bill Champlin – lead vocals, Hammond organ

Terry Haggerty – guitar, backing vocals

Al Strong – bass, backing vocals

Jim Myers – drums

Tim Cain – saxophone, backing vocals

Produced by Randy Steirling

Trident Records made a big mistake by not releasing “Fat City” as the A-side of the band’s first single. “Sing Me a Rainbow” is nice and cheerful and flower-powery, but if you like your rock ‘n roll with some grit and vinegar (and I do), than “Fat City” is the way to go. A hard-driving, punchy slab of R&B, the track makes good use of Tim Cain’s sax, and this combination of Hammond-and-horns was groundbreaking; no rock band had sounded like this before (the single came out a year before Child is Father to the Man, and two years before Chicago Transit Authority). A heady, exciting track.

Rating: A+

Listen to the song here.

Blackburn & Snow – Stranger in a Strange Land

Blackburn and Snow were expected to achieve greatness, but they’re mostly forgotten today. Promoted by Frank Werber as the “next big thing”, they only managed to release two singles in their lifetime, for reasons that remain unclear to this day. Their first single, “Stranger in a Strange Land“, was recorded in early 1966, but didn’t see release until a year later.

Jeff Blackburn was a prolific songwriter, and the pair recorded an album’s worth of Blackburn originals, but no album was released until 1999, due to disagreements between Trident Productions and distributor MGM-Verve (as well as the performers and the producers not seeing eye to eye).

It’s worth picking up the album, Something Good For Your Head, if you’re a fan of folk-rock. Blackburn was an accomplished songwriter, and the vocal interplay between him and Sherry Snow is striking; very reminiscent of Jefferson Airplane. The pair also utilized expert backing musicians, including the Candy Store Prophets, who backed the Monkees on their first album.

Jeff Blackburn had been brought up in Bakersfield, California, and was influenced by the country music scene there. This country influence would later show up on many of Blackburn and Snow’s recordings. Sherry Snow had a background in folk music, and had experience playing the coffeehouses of San Jose, California.

The pair had met early in the ’60s, and by 1964 had formed a personal and professional relationship, playing in San Francisco. They signed with Frank Werber’s Trident Productions in December of 1965.

Blackburn and Snow gigged around San Francisco, playing the Fillmore, the Avalon, and the Matrix. They also spent extensive time in the studio, but their debut single, “Stranger in a Strange Land” wouldn’t be released until January of 1967. It failed to dent the charts

The duo played at the Fantasy Fair and Magic Mountain Music Festival in June of 1967. Their sophomore single, “Time“, was released in October of 1967, with a similar lack of chart success.

Shortly after the release of “Time”, Blackburn and Snow split up. They had broken up as a couple, and their music had failed to be commercially viable.

Sherry Snow went on to join Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks, as one of Hicks’ backing female vocalists. Jeff Blackburn formed the supergroup The Ducks with Neil Young.

The Song: Stranger in a Strange Land

Written by Samuel F. Omar (David Crosby)

Recorded in San Francisco, CA (January 1966)

Released as Verve single #10478 (January 1967)

Personnel:

Sherry Snow – lead vocals

Jeff Blackburn – rhythm guitar, backing vocals

with:

Bob Jones – lead guitar

Steve Talbot – bass

John Chambers – drums

Produced by Frank Werber and Randy Steirling for Trident Productions

The first thing you notice upon listening to this is Snow’s voice; it’s very powerful (apparently she was invited to replace Signe Anderson in Jefferson Airplane, but turned the offer down). The second thing you notice is that there’s interesting guitar work going on in both channels. The songwriting is excellent too, although not by Blackburn, but by David Crosby under a pseudonym. And when Blackburn joins Snow on the “my mind goes high” refrains, it’s pure folk-rock bliss. “My mind goes high” – think that’s a drug reference? Well, it is San Francisco…

Rating: A-

Listen to the song here.