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Raven [U.S.]: Raven (1969)

What's this, some kind of Black Crowes bootleg?

Sorry to disappoint, but no it's notn...

Instead, as I was writing about New Wave of British Heavy Metal trio Raven, a few weeks ago, I learned there was a mostly forgotten U.S. band by the same name that preceded them by a decade, so I decided to track down this eponymous LP from 1969.

This Raven hailed from Buffalo, New York, and formed in 1967 when singer Tony Galla, keyboardist Jimmy Calire, and guitarist John Weitz, formerly of The Rising Sons, joined up with bassist Tommy Calandra and drummer Gary Mallaber, previously with Stan and the Ravens.

Having honed their skills over an incalculable number of nightclub one-nighters, this murder of crows, I mean ravens, were nothing if not proficient instrumentalists, so their well-connected manager, Marty Angelo, had little trouble finding them work.

First came a residency at one time Jimi Hendrix manager Steve Paul's New York City club, The Scene, then select dates at prestigious venues like Detroit's Grande Ballroom and Chicago’s Kinetic Playground, and then a five-year deal with mighty Columbia Records.

This eponymous long-player from 1969 was the immediate result, and though the band's musicianship and versatility -- encompassing rock, blues, soul, jazz, and frankly every other form of American roots music you can think of -- were on full display, it's quickly apparent that Raven couldn't write distinctive songs, let alone hit singles.

The closest they came to doing so was on the unbearably upbeat "Feelin' Good," the bouncy "No Turnin' Back," and the unfortunately named "Frumpy," where they don't even show enough sense to use its memorable chorus -- "There's many more where you come from" -- for a title.

Two other tracks, "Neighbor, Neighbor" and "None of Your Jive," are nothing but cabaret fodder, "Green Mountain Dream" is a ponderous, pompous hippie melodrama, and neither the Stax-like instrumental "Let's Eat," nor the tepid Howlin' Wolf cover "Howlin' for My Baby" suggested this band was ready for prime time.

The album wraps up with a ten-minute jam called "Bad News" (yeah, no shit!) that, again, leaves no doubt about the musicians' chops -- especially dominant keyboard player Calire -- as they stitch ideas and solos spots together like Spirit without a plan.

But Columbia sure had a plan: dropping Raven so fast they had time to put out an independent live album before year's end -- ironically inspiring their otherwise unrelated transatlantic namesake with its title: Live at the Inferno.

Then, having seemingly run out of options, Raven broke up, but Calire went on to play with soft-rockers America (1976-'80) and Malliber became a top journeyman drummer working with headliners like Eddie Money, Greg Kihn, and The Steve Miller Band.

According to legend, Malliber even turned down an offer from Kiss' to replace Peter Criss!

So, it's probably professional afterlives like theirs that have stopped Raven from slipping completely through rock history's cracks, to eventually find their way into the hands of mega-dork music bloggers like yours truly.