In the same way that the Hubble telescope has allowed us to explore both the Big Bang and the expansion of the universe that then followed, this wonderful 3-D set takes us to what could be considered the origin point of Folk Rock and gives us a flavour of the stars, the planets, black holes and dark matter that has followed on. Opening up with what could be considered the Ground Zero moment with The Byrds take on ‘Mr. Tambourine Man’ followed by the genre’s Godfather or Folk Judas depending on your point of view, with the single version of ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues,’ both the beautiful and controversial wedding of folk and rock is explored through a further X number of tracks. Going beyond the telescope analogy, we are even given some glimpses of what existed before that point.
Thus we have the superstars, the well-remembered, the vaguely familiar, the ones that passed us by and, particularly given that the focus is on the other side of the Atlantic, those who never really touched our radar. It is in that latter category that there are some flawless gems to be found. Similarly, the styles show and celebrate the divergence of what came following the original jingle jangle. We have the confessional singer songwriter, through country rock to psychedelia, in all cases covering the spectrum from the likes of Tim Hardin and Melanie, The Beau Brummels and The Sunshine Company, to Grace Slick, the Grateful Dead and even some well-mannered tunefulness from The Fugs, with the influence of the British Invasion also evident, if not directly represented
Of course you could argue about some of the omissions, for example the quirky inclusion of Sonny’s sole solo UK hit ‘Laugh At Me’ is not partnered with Cher’s version of ‘All I Really Wanna Do’, both of which made 1965’s UK Top 10 at the same time, coincidentally both peaking at No.9. Similarly, there’s no room for Crosby, Stills and Nash, despite the debut album creeping in at the end of the decade – possibly a stylistic decision, maybe (along with Cher) a difficulty with licensing that must be a headache with projects as genre spanning as this.
True to the spirit of the age there are inclusions that go beyond the sound to capture or illustrate the sense of wonder and hope. We have an invitation to San Francisco from Scott McKenzie with attendant floral fashion suggestions, whereas, on the other hand, there are those that contemplate the fears and insecurity as well as expressing a degree questioning anger from the likes of Buffalo Springfield, Barry Maguire and an incendiary ‘Handsome Johnny’ from Richie Havens, reminding us that not all was sweetness and light. Meanwhile, protesting over in the rarity corner, we are treated to the UK single release of Phil Ochs’ ‘I Ain’t Marching Anymore’, a rocking version that for reasons unknown never saw the light of day back across the pond.
Weighing in at a hefty 74 tracks, it is impossible to reference them all, but when you do listen, and believe us you should, build in time for the rabbit holes that will open up and require visiting. Returns to your existing collection to revisit those you may have neglected, step forward the likes of The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and The Dillards, but also for following up on the new discoveries and the true obscurities that are brought into deserving light – with Mouse sounding more Dylan than the Big Z himself, or Stourbridge Lion, and Blackburn and Snow, whose releases were limited or indeed non-existent at the time. We haven’t even mentioned the curiosities – pre-blues/rock Johnny Winter, Ry Cooder before he was a member of any sort of club, the North American monopoly, a pre–Velvets Nico and a version of ‘Hey Joe’ by The Leaves that will never make a Greatest Hits radio playlist.
Just as the discs offer a fabulous overview of the music itself, the all attendant booklet is a treasure trove of information, as one might expect from Richie Unterberger, author of a tome by the same title and covering the genre in depth. For those of you enthused by this, and who wouldn’t be, may we also recommend it is viewed as a companion piece to ‘As I Roved Out’ a similarly intriguing 3CD set from Cherry Red, which also charted the highways and byways of the Folk Rock explosion, but from a European, albeit largely British and Irish, viewpoint. Somewhat essential.
Damian Liptrot.
www.cherryred.co.uk





