I’m not sure that owning a Carpenters album when you are nine or ten is such a great idea, but then again, why not? I’d be lying though if I said that Now And Then made a huge impact on my life, and I’d be lying too if I said that album is safely stowed in my record boxes in the corner of the attic. Instead it languishes in my parent’s house, although I do look forward to being reunited with the CD reissue that even as I type is winging its way to me courtesy of those fine people at Amazon.
Since we’re on the subject of the Carpenters, I need to draw your attention to the exquisite The Last Word collection by Chuck and Mary Perrin. Another sublime brother and sister act, Chuck and Mary made a couple of albums for their own Last Word label at the tail end of the ‘60s, and it's these two albums that make up this Rev-Ola collection that is guaranteed to blow your mind. The first album. Brother and Sister, is a glorious folk record with a hefty helping of delicious covers rubbing shoulders with original Perrin compositions. Of the covers, it’s inevitably their peach of a version of John Sebastian’s ‘A Younger Generation’ that catches my attention, and do you know, I’m almost tempted to say I prefer this to the original Lovin’ Spoonful recording and that’s saying a hell of a lot. And how can you resist their take on Donovan’s ‘Circus of Sour’ or the very beautiful ‘Violets of Dawn’?
The Next of Kin album that follows has more Perrin originals and a full band and is a masterful example of soft pop-folk that holds too many treasures to name. Ardent connection spotters can trace a direct line from Chuck and Mary to Nirvana (and yes I do mean the ones of the teen spirit and not the ones who did French TV with Salvador Dali) through Next Of Kin, but most will be content to recognise that really Chuck and Mary were making records that presaged the whole singer/songwriter trend of the early ’70s. There’s even a delightful William Carlos Williams poem in there. Oh, and should you need recommendation from sources higher then me, bear this in mind: Karen Carpenter herself was a fan, and wrote them saying that if they had more control over their careers then they would surely cover one the Perrin’s songs. Chuck rightly cherishes that letter to this day. Well, who wouldn’t?
Naturally I’ve been digging a lot of other Rev-Ola releases recently too, although none reach the heights of the Chuck and Mary collection. Liz Damon’s Orient Express comes closest, being a great example of that laid back ‘lounge’ style that was in vogue in the early ‘70s and that made a comeback in the second half of the ‘90s. Is it still in vogue anywhere? With the way culture is so fragmented these days it probably is, and that’s only got to be good news if it means records like this can find a slot on the record store shelves. Not that I’ve ever seen this or other Rev-Ola delights on the record store shelves in Exeter, but you know what I mean.
Nearly as sunny as the Liz Damon’s Orient Express album is their White Whale Records label mates Triste Janero. Meet Triste Janero conjures images of Brazilian tinged soft pop, although there were actually no band members of Latin origin. Not that it matters, of course. Playing this now helps me forget the cold, makes me remember that maybe Spring isn’t too far away after all.
Doing a similar job is Intercourse by The Tokens. Amazingly, given the Tokens’ track record (massive number one with ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’ in 1961, nine more top 100 singles in the following seven or eight years, producers of the Chiffons and Tony Orlando and Dawn, not to mention the fact that Neil Sedaka started out in the Tokens…) only about 200 copies of this album were pressed in 1969. Guaranteed mythic status as a result, the Rev-ola crew have managed to finally salvage it for a full CD release. Given it’s time of recording, it’s natural that Intercourse is suffused with a West Coast feel that recalls Pet Sounds Beach Boys (important to recall too that it was doo-wop groups like The Tokens who so inspired the Wilson clan in the first place). Mitch Margo said that he wanted to make Intercourse an ‘audio antidepressant’ and in that he certainly succeeded. With the winter spreading its fingers so far into the year, it’s just what we need.
So Rev-Ola continues to delight, maintains its impressive output of magical time capsules of intriguing and overlooked glories of Pop wonder. And I haven’t even mentioned the releases by Twin Engine, The Everpresent Fullness and Hearts and Flowers that have also been spinning around my head of late. And with the Jasmine Minks collection due at the end of March in what will no doubt be another burst of Rev-Ola activity, my bank manager had better watch out again.
© 2004Alistair Fitchett