#Vanilla fudge album covers plus#

While falling much closer to the debut, Renaissance still shows the touch of Morton through a less obtrusive endeavor at the conceptual. While substantially worthier than The Beat Goes On, itвЂ™s lesser than Vanilla Fudge, mainly because none of the members were particularly strong songwriters, at least at this point. Only two covers are included, вЂњThe Spell that Comes AfterвЂќ by Essra Mohawk (a little-known protГ©gГ© of Frank Zappa) and DonovanвЂ™s вЂњSeason of the WitchвЂќ (with lyrics added from MohawkвЂ™s вЂњWe Never LearnвЂќ). Renaissance shifted to self-penned tunes, and not with prime results.

Essentially an extended sound collage, it does include playing by the band, but the concept, basically a musical/history lesson in denoted phases thatвЂ™s often bland, pompous and trite at once, is all Morton.Д«ogert has been quoted as saying The Beat Goes On вЂњkilled the band.вЂќ Upon inspection of the facts, this seems ludicrous the LP hit #17 on the album chart, proving that hordes of folks were stoned out of their gourds and/or tripping like mad in вЂ™68, and the quickly released follow-up Renaissance, cut at the same time as The Beat Goes On, made the Top 20 as well. Bono figure on both Vanilla Fudge and The Beat Goes On, the first of their two вЂ™68 discs, though itвЂ™s most fittingly described as Shadow MortonвЂ™s folly. Shockwaves from The Beatles were huge on these guys and their manager, as was the male half of Sonny and Cher apparently. And while for the most part the focus on outside material serves them well here, there are a few hiccups, a small one with the ImpressionsвЂ™ cover and a much larger convulsion via a closing вЂњEleanor RigbyвЂќ thatвЂ™s always struck these ears as a dud (the opening вЂњTicket to RideвЂќ is far more successful). More troublingly, the stretching out occasionally crosses over into the realms of the meandering, a concern complicated by SteinвЂ™s prominent baroque-shaded organ.

Indeed heavy, but Vanilla Fudge sees the band blending the weightiness with a decidedly Rascals-like orientation itвЂ™s that NY soul thing again.

#Vanilla fudge album covers plus#

They werenвЂ™t alone of course, and they played with many of their contemporaries in this scenario live with Hendrix, Cream, and with Led Zeppelin as openers, plus the rhythm section landed on a radio jingle with Jeff Beck, a meeting that foreshadowed the early-вЂ70s supergroup Beck, Bogert & Appice. That was the FudgeвЂ™s contribution to rockвЂ™s development. Slow it down, stretch it out and infuse it with a bruising drum-led heaviness. ItвЂ™s true that вЂњPeople Get ReadyвЂќ (and the first album is composed entirely of covers) is no great shakes, but вЂњYou Keep Me HanginвЂ™ OnвЂќ is one of the better R&B lifts in вЂ60s rock precisely because it displays a disinterest in mimicry (a real issue with NYC bands of the era) to instead hone a variation on a then new sound. Those soul roots were still showing in fact, they never went away, flaring up rather flagrantly later in their tenure, but on Vanilla Fudge, itвЂ™s not a decisive detraction. The first effort turned out to be the best, but it was also a problematic record. They soon acquired guitarist Vince Martell and drummer Carmine Appice, and after hooking up with Shangri LaвЂ™s producer Shadow Morton, they changed names and focused attentions on the studio. Vanilla FudgeвЂ™s beginnings are in The Electric Pigeons, the soul cover unit featuring organist/lead vocalist Mark Stein and bassist Tim Bogert.

ItвЂ™s far from that simple though, and their somewhat brief and highly eventful initial existence provides a consistently interesting story, if one thatвЂ™s only sporadically fruitful in musical terms. There are two versions of the FudgeвЂ™s recording, a just shy of three-minute single edit and the take found on their debut that oneвЂ™s over twice as long, and this duality is to an extent indicative of the groupвЂ™s creative problems. вЂњYou Keep Me HanginвЂ™ On,вЂќ the groupвЂ™s reading of a Holland-Dozier-Holland tune originally by The Supremes, is a vital evolutionary brick in the hard rock megastructure, and it stands as a one-song distillation of nearly everything that was good and potentially less than stellar about this hard-touring New York quartet. ThereвЂ™s no question Vanilla Fudge are an important band. If an immersion into the multifaceted positives and negatives of these trailblazing late-вЂ60s hard rockersвЂ™ everyday reality is what one wants however, then one should look into the contents of Near the Beginning. A further understanding of them as a singles act is most appropriately gleaned through the Rhino compilation Psychedelic Sundae. To soak up Vanilla FudgeвЂ™s talent as song-interpreters the best route is their eponymous вЂ™67 debut. Remembering Vanilla Fudge bassist Tim Bogert.