Review of Spirit's First Album

Released 1968

"Look beneath your lid some morning, See those things you didn't quite consume— The world's a can for Your fresh garbage . . . Look beneath your lid some morning, See those things you didn't quite consume— Your fresh garbage . . ."

I have a surreal form of Alzheimer's surrounding the purchase of my first copy of Spirit's debut album.

Firstly, the artwork for my copy was entirely different to the one pictured above; a head shot split between the five members of the band. I have absolutely no recall regarding what the artwork actually depicted. None whatsoever, other than to say with (almost) complete certainty that it was different.

Secondly, when I first played the album, I noted that although the track listing on the sleeve matched the tracks on the vinyl, both labels were from a different Spirit album. I think it was from Clear Spirit. Rather than content myself with the fact that I was possibly in the possession of something which could be reasonably valuable, I returned to the shop and brought it to their attention, probably expecting a refund or discount. Fool.

Thirdly, although I passed it pretty much every day for four years on my way to University and / or the pub a few hundred yards away, and then actually lived within spitting distance of it for another couple of years, I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the record store. With the following brief note, I'm sure one of my reprehensible associates from that time will be able to fill in the blanks.

The shop was run by two physically very similar brothers of a very dour disposition. Long, lank and dark hair, dark jackets and ne'er a smile betwixt them. I purchased Spirit's first album on my first visit there. One of my most prized possessions was a second hand copy of The Twelve Dreams Of Dr Sardonicus. Given that in West Cornwall, I had to rely very much on what other people discarded to broaden my musical knowledge, coming across a shop in Glasgow with a new copy of a Spirit album was nothing short of a revelation. One of the miserable brothers took my money with a disgruntled snort, handed over the record and practically willed me out of the shop.

I didn't have high expectations as I had previously read that TTDODS was a career highpoint. I was curious just how similar to it's more prominent cousin their first effort would be, especially as it was made way back in 1968. I was only two when it was released, for goodness sake. I suspected and worried that it may be a poppier effort and doubted that it would have any prog rock credentials.

Fresh Garbage then brought some relief. It was reassuringly similar to TTDODS: stoner rhythms, excellent production values, mad and decidedly the work of the same genius - Randy California. Mechanical World and Uncle Jack had a definitive pop sensibility: short, catchy, memorable hummable tunes with strong vocals from the underrated Jay Ferguson.

So far, so very Spirit. Strong tunes with enough weirdness and proficient musicianship to make me smile smugly that this was indeed of a similar quality to TTDODS.

Taurus was the first stand out track for me. As well it's otherworldly keyboard and guitar, I sat up straight, astonished that the opening guitar motif from Led Zeppelin's Stairway To Heaven was replicated, practicality note for note. I checked the release date once more and then scurried back to a trusty biography of Percy and Co. On this occasion my memory hadn't deserted me: I found a passage referring to Jimmy and Robert attending a Spirit gig in the late sixties. The thieving beggars then blatantly lifted the refrain from Taurus wholesale. Praise indeed for the magnificently inventive Mr California. Of itself Taurus is worth the price of the album alone. Other highlights on the album were the sprawling, jazzy and distinctly prog Elijah and the catchy Gramophone Man.

I still don't understand why Spirit are not more highly regarded both in the prog community but also in the rock music community in general. The playing is faultless, the songwriting well above average with an inventiveness which, while it doesn't always work, especially on some later albums, is never less than fascinating.

To coin a cliche: a worthy addition to any prog music fan's collection.