I used to sleep well knowing that the English progressive rock band Family, like Savoy Brown and Steeleye Span, was one of those groups I could spend my entire life ignoring without having to worry I was missing something.
I was wrong. True, some of the songs on 1971’s Fearless—their fifth—are just what I expected: drab progressive rock with a folk edge. But they’re all over the place, and at their best, they’re surpassingly strange; the oddball odes “Sat’d’y Barfly” and “Blind” blow me away, and on several others, they more than hold their own. Family will never be a member of my family, but I’d be a poorer man for never hearing them.
Family are a conundrum—formed in 1966, they released their first album in 1968, and established a reputation as a formidable live act, one so formidable it’s been said “that the Jimi Hendrix Experience were afraid to follow them at festivals.” Maybe so, but I haven’t heard anything on their live albums that would make me think they gave Jimi a fright, and their studio albums are even less electrifying. True, lead vocalist Roger Chapman amazes with his totally idiosyncratic vocals—one writer described his voice as a “bleating vibrato” and another described him as an “electric goat,” and there’s no denying he’s an excitable boy. But a goat boy of a lead singer does not a great band make.
Family’s lineup underwent consistent changes over the course of their career, as did their sound from LP to LP, but come Fearless they featured Chapman on vocals; John “Charley” Whitney on guitar, mandolin, and percussion; John “Poli” Palmer on keyboards, backing vocals, vibes, flute, and percussion; John Wetton (who would ultimately move on to King Crimson) on bass, backing and lead vocals, guitars, contracts (?), and keyboards; and Rob Towsend on drums, Paiste cymbals, and percussion. Family were a crack outfit, but on Fearless they’re a crack outfit that occasionally bores me silly.
I’ve come to the conclusion that Family is too English for most Americans’ ears, but what do I know? America’s young people went gaga for Jethro Tull. The difference is that Family never established a signature sound, as Fearless makes clear—they were too eclectic for their own good. And they couldn’t write a catchy melody to save their lives—there are songs on Fearless I have trouble remembering the second they end. And in the great progressive rock tradition, a few of their songs lose me along the way—they simply can’t help themselves when it comes to writing songs that are all switchbacks, changes in key and tempo, etc. It’s a curse. But on to the LP.
“Opener Blue and Me” opens on a folk note with Chapman behaving himself to the accompaniment of bongos and Wetton’s bass. Then Chapman commences warbling like a bird that smokes two packs of day, and in comes Whitman to play a muscular guitar that completely changes its tone about halfway through. After that, things get downright ornery, with Whitman playing big power chords while Chapman goes feral. As for the takeout, it’s all Wetton’s bass and a touch of hard rock guitar.
“Sat’d’y Barfly” is true genius; over honky-tonk piano, acoustic guitar, and some belching horns, Chapman goes full English rowdy, talking his way (and taking his time about it) through a night on the town. He’s wearing a “Diamond pin and a funky hat/Mohair suit and new white spats,” he and Louise drink their way through the bar’s gin and switch to wine, the “band’s still wailin’ and it’s 4 a.m.,” and this is about as far from progressive rock as you can get. Great stuff.
The title of “Larf and Sing” led me to expect some good old Faces ebullience, but what you get is a very slick song that reeks of Traffic and features some very-smoothed-out harmony vocals and a guitar that sounds airbrushed smooth. The music grows on you, but not the vocals—they rankle every time I hear them. “Spanish Tide” also has a vaguely Traffic feel and features vocal harmonies and a harpsichord, both of which I find overly precious, but when the guitar comes in at around the 2:20 mark and spars some with the electric organ, I get caught up. Too bad things slow down again, the harpsichord takes over, and I lose interest.
“Save Some for Thee” is welcomingly uptempo, Chapman’s vocals are raw, the piano is nice, and I approve because this is, in its weird way, as close as Family comes to rocking out. Then the Ladbroke Horns come in, followed by some raucous guitar by Whitney, and I like the brief slow down during which Chapman sounds all bluesy. The marching band sequence that takes the song out I could do without, but that’s progressive rock for you—sooner or later a prog rock band will take you some place you don’t want to go. They simply can’t help themselves.
“Take Your Partners” is, of all things, a folk jazz fusion number, and funky it is—Wetton’s bass is right up front, you get some jazzy synth squiggle, and the drums and percussion percolate. Then in comes Whitney with a simple repetitive riff, followed by Chapman sounding like his chewing sandpaper, followed by a kind of free-form and very bebopping interlude during which Whitney cuts loose on guitar and the Ladbroke horns enter stage left and enter big. After that, the band goes from here to there, Chapman does some more singing, the synth goes mad, and the band follows suit, taking the song out the way I wish it had come in—insanely.
“Children” is a vapid acoustic throwaway with irksomely earnest vocals, and I just want it to go away, right down to the harmony vocals that give me bad CSN&Y vibes. The one-minute and change instrumental “Crinkly Grin” is another throwaway of sorts—it’s all bass and vibes and Yes saying hello to Frank Zappa. I could do without it.
“Blind” is a revelation—a slow but driving number on which Chapman sounds positively demented. He warbles, drags out words until his vocal cords fray and give out, and in general goes above and beyond to the accompaniment of, well, I don’t know what. Bagpipes? Flutes? Synthesizer? Townsend performs wonders on the drums, Wetton is in your face and all over the place, but it’s Chapman’s abrasive vocals that win the day. The slow closer “Burning Bridges” brings Genesis to mind, and listening to Chapman you can understand why Peter Gabriel cited him as an influence. Moody and brooding but with enough propulsion to keep things moving, its instrumental mid-section gives Whitney the chance to play some nice, understated guitar. I like it.
On Fearless Family hardly overwhelms, but they have their moments. Fearless is hardly “peerless,” as one (obviously stoned) music reviewer of the time described it, and it’s my expert opinion that the fellow from Crawdaddy who called Fearless “nothing less than brilliant” should have his head examined.
What Family sounds like to me is a virtuoso bunch of players fronted by a one-in-a-million lead singer who comes up short in both the catchy melodies and fireworks departments. Flashes of brilliance do not a great album make, but on songs like “Sat’d’y Barfly,” “Save Some for Thee” and “Blind,” they prove themselves to be eccentrics in the great English tradition, and you’d be remiss not to give them a listen.
Just one last thing. Please don’t tell me this means I have to listen to Savoy Brown. Anything but that.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B-
