by Roy Hollingworth
Melody Maker, c. 30 October 1971
HOW much do you like your Family? Found it all somewhat inevitable during the last year?
It’s not that Family have churned out any duffers. It’s all been quite nice, thank you. Maybe a duffer would have helped, it might have kicked somebody up the rear portions. Instead, it all trucked along on a steady, safe line. Charlie Whitney described the line with a sweep of his left hand. It was moving, “but stagnating,” said Charlie. And we begin to get honest about things.
One of the more puzzling aspects of rock was why didn’t Family become the greatest band this side of Ormskirk? Why should a student’s magazine tag Family as a “liability” in their advice to this country’s social secretaries? Family cost £1,000 on wheels, and the magazine warned that booking Family could well lead to a loss. Calculating, these students, you know, but they have a point.
Well, let’s say they HAD a point for something bordering on the remarkable has taken to budding within the Family camp. There’s been a mutual kicking of asses all round — metaphorically speaking that is. Maybe it would be better to call it a re-awakening, a re-birth of interest, imagination, and energy.
When bassist/violinist John Weider left a couple of months back, Family realised that one reason why stagnation had set in was that they had been relying on him too much.
Things like that can become invisible — until the crunch, when it all becomes so obvious. Before you know it even a fairly good album becomes dull.
But now comes new improved “Fearless,” the band’s new album which I’ve heard and which I’ll tell you is the best thing they’ve done since “Doll’s House.” For Family it’s a very strange album, but it’s the Family that should have been a long time ago. It’s goodtime, it’s as funky, as rolling, as fresh as they’ve ever been. And it’s not Roger Chapman just singing every track. Even he got sick of that. They’ve written ten songs this time. Yes, songs, and I’m willing to lay money on the fact that you’ll love them. “It’s moving again,” says Charlie.
“We thought we’d dropped a bit of a ricket actually,” says Chapman. “We were aware of the goodtime feel, but thought we’d made a mistake. Maybe we’ve heard it too many times.”
There was no concept for “Fearless.” They got into Olympic Studios, auditioned John Wetton for bass on a Friday, had him recording with them on the Monday, and got it together after tea.
“It came along slowly,” adds Charlie. “I had one or two sequences which were put down roughly.” The chemistry of rock is a funny thing — suddenly all sorts of things were happening.
“I started to get a flash on the old Coasters vocals” says Chapman. The new Family vocal team came into being. The Golden Gate Quartet, as Roger calls it. It sounds like four well-boozed barbers singing gospel. That’s not really all that ludicrous either.
“You remember those Coasters things? You know, coloured guys getting into different rhythms with their voices. It’s easy to picture what you want, but to try and do that well for a white man to try and do it is bloody difficult. It’s in your mind but hard to get out. We can’t sing like them. So a new aspect had to be taken, an aspect on the funny side of it. A sort of blocked chord thing and then an old barbers shop quartet job. I reckon those barber shop quartets were doing the white version of gospel.”
Had Wetton made any immediate impression in the studios? “It was a hurried job,” said Charlie. “But we had to get him in straight away, right into the thick of things to see if it felt right.”
But the bass sound and the whole bass patterns are openly different. “Yeh, well that might be because John plays a lot of bass, holding it down all the time. We haven’t missed that because we’ve been into different things. But John plays more like an American bassist, maybe a Motown bassist” said Charlie.
There’s little over-dubbing on most tracks keeping the whole thing so live it stands up and yells. “It’s so thick for four people at times that it steams” adds Roger. He stops talking and thinks. He looks a bit nasty, what with a bloody eye (due to cold).
“The voices have made a lot of difference. It’s taken us back to ‘Doll’s House.’ We didn’t find it difficult to get back to harmonies, but it’s been so long. We haven’t had a singer, except myself, for so long. It came out easy. It’s been so hard before, me trying to overdub a harmony which I can’t do. My voice is too rigid. I really get bored with hearing my voice all the way through an album. But now we’ve got John we’ve got somebody who can sing.
“I mean my voice was like a guitarist using the same runs over and over again. There was too much of the same thing. On ‘Fearless’ when John sang something and when it sounded good, well, we just left it to him. A lot better than my singing.”
The actual album is a colourful blend. There are continual party squeekers and it sounds as if the Clangers sat in on some sessions. They also used the exceedingly good Ladbroke Horns (in many ways related to the Dundee Horns to be found on the new Stone the Crows album) The brass is tight and pungent.
What really knocked them out was realising that the studio sound of “Fearless” had as much balls and spirit as what they are capable of live. “We’ve learned in a sense to get a more live sound in studio. We’ve found them amazingly easy to rehearse for doing live” said Charlie.
So to live gigs, and you’d better watch out. The tour starts on November 1. “We’ve missed playing a lot. We’ve done five gigs in the last three months. The first couple were knee tremblers with John and all that. We did the old stuff. Now it’s the new. We’ve got to impress the new listeners — recruited from the single.”
Here’s a preview of “Fearless.”
“Between Blue and Me”: Cute subtle intro that gets into a very elastic guitar riff that in turn builds into a chunky, barking number. There’s a smouldering bass line that compliments Chapman’s hysterical climax.
“Sat’d’y Barfly”: The most remarkable track on the album. It must be a single. There’s a brick and tile piano run throughout, with maraccas, and jogging bass drum. Strangely enough it produces a weird, mean, and surrealistic effect. There’s a lonely tuba or two, and alarming party whistles. A 1970s honky-tonk.
“Larf and Sing”: Smooth and jazzy and then the barber’s shop quartet. The harmony breaks sound like a corny T.V. ad. and then there’s some very creamy guitar runs about. Another surprise. Close to a weird bossa-nova at times.
“Spanish Tide”: A delicate “harpsichord” sound, extremely melodic. There’s a loose feel, racey and strong. Clean harmonies, and then heavier more sardonic moods from upright, well-dressed chords.
“Save Some For Thee”: A pusher. There’s a bassy river beneath and some “straight” Chapman, hairing around in wild mood. A military quickstep climax with “Topper” Townsend showing some leanings towards a partnership with musket and fife.
“Take Your Partners”: A baffling busy and grumbling intro with stereo whistles and Clanger-chat. It all fights for rhythm and finds it before Chapman breaks in with some strange half-recitations.
“Children”: Big Bill Broonzy acoustic guitar feel that leads into the most poetic item. A very pleasant sunshine song.
“Crinkly Grin”: This is a short Poli Palmer instrumental composition that sounds like a street full of cabs, or a heavier theme tune for “Sunset Strip.” Fast and funky.
“Blind”: Complex but live, taking in about every facet of the whole album. It’s a monster track that trips in numerous directions including foot-stomping and the like. Strange, almost bag-pipe finale.
“Burning Bridges”: Cosmic feel and bluesy melody seems to get lost at times but then snaps into a tight but down-home feel.