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How much it pisses me off that there isn't yet one, I say, one (!), dedicated to them on DeBaser...
...and how much it pleases me that there's not even one dedicated to them on DeBaser, because I'll snag it for myself (if no one minds).
Honestly, by now this Japan had bored me; for a long time, I had a mad desire to return to the West, after that crazy desert run some time ago (following in the footsteps of Brant Bjork), after endless citations just because of gems à la Mad River to pose as a connoisseur of the Californian scene (which I am, modestly...), after "guitar wonders" capable of evoking, even if only for a little while, the splendors of that "Eastern Light" (tee-hee-hee) that all cultists of those years have listened to and listened to again. Not that I won't return to Japan, mind you, but for once, we're changing zones...
...and yes, it was time to pay homage, in some way, to the godfathers of Welsh psychedelia, the "Quicksilver of Britain", the champions of the (better) jam session contaminated with English Prog, the acknowledged cousins of John Cipollina and Gary Duncan: the Man, absolutely one of the most difficult bands to find online, and I don't think it needs explaining why... They, who even invited Cipollina to their parts to play, among others, that "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You," which was the same as Page & Plant, only it sounded very, very different, with those guitars so acidic they seemed truly Californian, with those inflections and accents not so common to hear beyond the Channel... They, who at their debut in '69 had caused a scandal with that "Revelation" which - easily inferred from the title - presented itself as a homemade semblance of a religious-themed concept and instead... you went to listen and, among the music's noise and grooves, found so much underground and - above all - those lascivious minutes of "Erotica" entirely occupied by a female orgasm, stuff that compared to "Whole Lotta Love" was church music (and of the two orgasms, I'll let you infer which I preferred... Go ahead, pit them against each other). Then three substantial albums, after such a debut, and the interminable "pseudo-suite" of "Alchemist" occupying a good part of the eponymous "Man," still rare (rarest?) goods for collectors. And already many lineup changes, making the band's history downright chaotic, at least for biographers: so much so that by the time "Padget Rooms" was released (a live album, the one still missing), alongside leader and founder Micky Jones, former Love Sculpture Terry Williams (on drums) and Martin Ace on bass had already joined. Two guitars, in truth, because there's also Deke Leonard to complete the quartet...
...a quartet that absolutely thrived live; when their fans gathered from all over Wales and rushed to see them at Swansea's Patti Pavillion (the dragon's Rock temple), when they gladly hosted the great Dave Edmunds in their ranks, who if passing through wouldn't miss joining them; when they shared the stage with Flying Aces, Plum Crazy, Help Yourself, Ducks Deluxe, obscure underground Welsh formations of which nothing is known anymore. Of these recordings, taken from a concert on April 8, 1972, there's little to say: one of the greatest (and lesser-known) live performances of the '70s, according to band cultists, even their greatest performance, an ideal manifesto of a group in a state of grace; three pieces, a long jam ("H. Samuel") on the entire second side, psychedelia and improvisation at their peak. "Quicksilver of Britain"...? Alright, agreed; but the progressive component shouldn't be underestimated. The Man, who in '73's "Back Into The Future" would be accompanied by a symphonic choir à la Floyd's "Atom Heart Mother," have a characteristic and unmistakable sound: their improvisations are mostly monochordal, centered on obsessive and alienating rhythmic ostinatos, often in odd time signatures, very complicated to follow at first listen; after the actual "song," which generally lasts no longer than 2/3 minutes, they set off into the rugged roads of tough and pounding solos, free, anarchic, very Hard in timbre impact. "Daughter Of The Fireplace," the second track, could be a Deep Purple song, for how it plays with certain Hard-Blues stylings; but it's Jones and Leonard's guitars (besides Micky's shrill, extremely high voice) that make it - unmistakably - a Man product. Think of "Phoenix" by Wishbone Ash, think of what that song became when performed live, the boundless inventiveness of those guitars: it was the first thing that came to mind when I listened to this record. "A stoner Rock-Jazz fusion hybrid," I quote a critic directly that quite conveys the idea...
For those wanting to listen to the entire concert, there's even the 2007 reissue that adds three more tracks... Over to you. And happy listening.
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