HIGH BIAS -- reissues

High Bias refreshed

CHAD & JEREMY
Before and After
Of Cabbages and Kings
(Sundazed)
Chad Stuart and Jeremy Clyde are probably remembered, if at all, as the purveyors of "A Summer Song," a bathetic bit of fluff that was a big hit in the early days of the original British invasion. In fact, the British duo had several U.S. hits, leading to their eventual emigration from England (which, after one initial hit single, remained largely indifferent to its native sons) to the colonies. Once here, the twosome employed the infamous Allen Klein to extricate them from a draconian record contract with an American indie called World Artists and move them over to major label powerhouse Columbia, with whom they had a bigger degree of artistic freedom. (An artist moving from an indie to a major because of issues of artistic freedom—is that even conceivable nowadays?)

The duo's fourth release, 1965's Before and After is the first Chad & Jeremy album for Columbia, and it finds the soft rock pioneers (if the term can be used for such a genre) attempting to break out of their button-down image. "Why Should I Care," for instance, apes the Beatles in their jangle-pop phase, while "What Do You Want With Me" is a well-crafted ballad in the McCartney/"Michelle" tradition. "Fare Thee Well (I Must Be Gone) revisits the duo's folk roots for a sentimental journey through a romance that's ceased to be, while "Evil-Hearted Me" is a limp rocker intended, fortunately, as camp. But most of the songs fall into C&J's previous M.O. of heavy-handed strings, syrupy romantic lyrics and pre-rock crooning. "I'm In Love Again," "Say It Isn't True," "For Lovin' Me" (written by a pre-stardom Gordon Lightfoot) and the title track (their last big hit) sound like songs extracted from musicals, and not the show-stoppers either. All their attempts to break away from this ostentatious sap are hamstrung by the duo's trademark lighter-than-air harmonies, which couldn't be gritty if they were chain-smokers who took crushed gravel on their cereal. Simply put, no matter what kind of material they experiment with, these guys make Simon & Garfunkel sound like Lemmy doubling his vocals. The eleven (!) bonus tracks don't make much of a case for C&J either. While "Pennies" isn't bad, the take on Duke Ellington's "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" is downright horrid, "Sometimes" is more unconvincing rock & roll and Italian language versions of previous hits don't help anyone. As the duo's nostalgic singing style didn't fit into emerging pop music trends, Before and After found Chad & Jeremy facing irrelevance a mere two years into their career.

Which is what Of Cabbages and Kings such a shock. Originally released in 1967, two years and four albums after Before and After, the duo's eighth record is its attempt to do Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. (They were hardly alone in this regard; it was practically a requirement to rip Sgt. Pepper in 1967.) The first five songs (side 1 in the original vinyl edition) find the twosome using orchestration to augment, not buttress, eccentric self-written songs like "Rest in Peace" (sung from the point of view of a mortician), "Family Way" and "The Gentle Cold of Dawn," while the drums of tunes like "Busman's Holiday" and the genuinely pretty "Can I See You" sound proper, instead of intrusive. Joined in the studio by Byrds producer Gary Usher (and an uncredited Curt Boettcher), C&J find a way to make their baroque melodies work with the psychedelic production, instead of against it. Even their harmonies sound much more appropriate here than on previous attempts at contemporary pop. Most importantly, the duo avoids the urge to rock out; they finally sound comfortable with their strengths without giving into to their sappier impulses. Even when they go straight for the sentimental jugular, as on the tender "I'll Get Around to It When I Can" (written by future Chicago producer James William Guercio), it's a breath of fresh air instead of another ponderous deadweight. No, that unfortunate chore is saved for the five-part, side-long "The Progress Suite-Movements 1 Thru 5," an incomprehensible mishmash of orchestrated movie music, sound effects, improvised dialogue from special guest the Firesign Theater, choral vocals, nuclear explosions and alleged social commentary about the price we pay for progress. Or something. Whatever "The Progress Suite" is supposed to be, what it ends up as is a massively dull, impossibly pretentious momentum-killer, tragically derailing what could have otherwise been an artistic breakthrough. Fortunately, Sundazed was smart enough to include a good half-dozen bonus tracks, including the sharp, catchy singles "Manners Maketh Man" ( a droll Simon & Garfunkel-style pop tune), "Cautionary Tale" and the baroque charmer "Sister Marie," saving the day (barely).

Chad & Jeremy soldiered on for two more records, including 1968's Ark, which is supposedly even more ambitious than Cabbages, before ending their partnership in 1969. Perhaps they'd exhausted their own artistic ideas by that time; perhaps they were just tired of the late 60s album-tour grind. Regardless, it was something of a shame—they'd finally reached their creative pinnacle, only to walk away from it. While Before and After is worth it only for longtime fans, connoisseurs of late 60s psychedelic curiosities will find Of Cabbages and Kings to be a minor but unexpected pleasure. Michael Toland

For fans of: the Walker Brothers, Montage, the Cryan Shames' Synthesis