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"Life Is So Unkind"... let's start from the end.
The final track of this solitary work signed by The Norman Haines Band is a disconsolate and unconscious epitaph of that misunderstood genius Norman Haines, an eccentric pianist from Birmingham. The track is a soft composition for organ and electrified piano, where Haines alone delves into territories that lie on the edge between avant-garde cultured experimentation and cosmic "kraut" deviations, almost as if wanting to leave an imprint on the new that was advancing in rock music.
The rest of the work is a series of precious gems, all in unstable balance between progressive, psychedelic reminiscences, jazz, cinematic pop, and vigorous blues forays; which Haines has always been in love with. The title track is its shining example... the powerful rhythm section, formed by Andy Huges on bass and Jimmy Skidmore on drums, supports Haines' piano digressions and the soft schizophrenia of Neil Clarke's guitar, with the voice intervening almost like a guest, halfway between that of the early Deep Purple and the Traffic of Winwood (a figure with whom Haines has always had to contend). The poignant "Everything You See" is a vibrant reinterpretation of "Mr. Armageddon", a track by Locomotive, where Haines abandons all hesitation and lets his hands draw a fluid wave on the keys of the distorted organ; while the desolation of "Bourgeois" is a splendid folk exercise, with the guest voice of Andy Hughes enriching the atmosphere of dramatic theatricality... leading us to a barren Morriconian landscape for the finale. There's no shortage of melody with a strong Beatles imprint "Abbey Road-Style" in "Finding My Way Home", where Alex Chilton supported by the Byrds in a country version seems to interpret an unreleased Lennon-McCartney or the more ethereal smoky nightclub vibe of "Elaine". The masterpiece of the album resides in the 13 apocalyptic minutes of "Rabbits", where Haines and company crush everything crushable, transitioning from the Yardbirds' blues-mod to the Zeppelin's hard, traversing long stretches of Cream-style psychedelia, not forgetting to neglect the masters of the Delta...
Released in 1971 by Parlophone and reissued in 2004 (also on vinyl) by Radioactive Records with a splendid cover (which at the time had several issues of more or less explicit censorship), the list of noteworthy tracks contained is still long, but I believe what has been said is enough to spark the curiosity of the most attentive...
Tracklist
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