Ainigma: Diluvium (1973)

Taking their name from the Greek word for "enigma," Ainigma was a German three-piece from the small Bavarian town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen, whose "career" ranged from 1971-'74, and produced this sole long-player from half-a-century ago.

Its musicians were seventeen-year-old Willy Klüter (vocals, organ), his fifteen-year-old brother Michael (drums), plus Wolfgang Netzer (guitar, bass, also fifteen), and their inexperience is obvious on 1973's Diluvium (Latin for "deluge").

The album consists, by and large, of neoclassical heavy prog that appears to have been recorded in a cluttered garage -- and that's close enough to the truth, as it was captured at the Garmisch parish hall, instead.

Still, this was better that than the boys' regular rehearsal site in the Klüter family basement, which happened to be located underneath their dentist father's home practice, and must have therefore subjected his patients to a racket fit to rattle their fillings!

Like, literally!

Luckily, Ainigma did benefit from adult supervision during the album's recording, as they convinced the affluent Dr. Klüter to hire one Franz Forth -- a Munich-based engineering intern with the Bavarian Broadcasting System -- and a pair of two-track Revox machines.

With all this in mind, one can't help but admire the trio's precocious, if unrefined talents, as it explodes with boundless enthusiasm via domineering Hammond organ (*), surprisingly distorted fuzz guitars, muscular drums ... and pretty terrible lyrics.

And yet, all three cuts found on side one -- "Prejudice," "You Must Run," and "All Things are Fading" -- feature their fair share of memorable moments, even if these were clearly inspired by the likes of Uriah Heep, Stray, and especially Atomic Rooster.

Side two houses the 18-minute-long trip of a title track, complete with a clumsily punched-in drum solo and other technical issues relating to the bass, lead and background vocal overdubs, which don't always mesh with the backing tracks for lack of an equalizer and other common tools available in most professional studios ... but not the parish hall.

Evidently, Dr. Klüter's generosity had its limits, and the members of Ainigma were so dissatisfied with the sessions' end results that they only pressed about 500 copies of Diluvium (**) and then sold them at a discount on account of its shitty sound.

Mama Klüter, likewise, eventually grew tired of driving the teenagers to local gigs, so the band's prospects and resolve gradually dwindled and, after briefly hiring a bassist to flesh out their live shows, Ainigma called it a day sometime in '74.

So, what's the final verdict?

Well, I've heard much better examples of under-funded, under-rehearsed German heavy prog, but I've also heard a lot worse, so give Ainigma and Diluvium a half-dozen virtual "spins" and you too might be tempted to invest in a physical format.

* Although Willy's liner notes amazingly suggest he only secured his first Hammond a few years later and got by here with a Farsifa on these recordings!

** In case you're wondering, the rear sleeve's cryptic acronyms, ARC ALP, stands for "Ainigma Record Company, Ainigma LP Stereo, and its product number of 151715 reflected the boys' ages at the time of recording.

Rest in Power Sir.

Thank u 4 everything.!!!

Lee Kerslake

Steamhammer - Mountains / Mountains (1970)

Mountains was the third album of the British blues-rock band Steamhammer.

In summer 1970, Steamhammer recorded this album as a quartet, Kieran White (vocals, guitar, harmonica), Martin Pugh (guitar), Steve Davy (bass) and Mick Bradley (drums). These four musicians worked together as a team to provide a selection of high-quality white urban blues.

The live track, "Riding On The L&N", is one of the highlights of the Mountains album, which contains blues numbers combined with rock music.

With the release of this album, Steamhammer began to be more noticed by the rock world.

This is really weird 

Head Machine: Orgasm (1970)

No, not Machine Head ... Head Machine.

For the length and breadth of the 1970s, Ken Hensley was primarily known as the guiding force (keyboardist, guitarist, chief songwriter) behind seminal head-bangers Uriah Heep, but at the start of the decade he was quite the musical mercenary!

Even as he was nearing the end of his late ‘60s association with The Gods (which, at one point, also featured Greg Lake and Mick Taylor), Hensley kept himself busy moonlighting with blues-rockers Toe Fat, secretly contributing to German Heep impersonators Weed, and partaking of the puzzling musical orgy known as Head Machine.

Originally intended for release as The Gods’ third long-player, Orgasm (which was tellingly credited to Taboo Productions) took a sharp turn into novelty status under the direction of producer (and sometime vocalist) David Paramor, whose ‘brilliant’ idea it was to craft a semi-conceptual album full of sexually suggestive songs housing downright crass, even creepy lyrics such as:

“I know how to hold you; I know how to touch you now ... I told you I would; Give you such delight.”

Cringey!

No wonder all those involved took cover behind pseudonyms, and so Hensley became Ken Leslie, future Heep drummer Lee Kerslake became Lee Poole, bassist John Glascock (later of Chicken Shack, Jethro Tull, etc.) became John Leadhen, and his drummer brother Brian became Brian Pole.

You probably would too if you were knocking off salacious hard rockers like the Hammond organ-driven “Climax/You Tried to Take it All” and “The First Time,” bump-and-grind riff-poundings like “You Must Come With Me” and “Scattering Seeds,” as well as post-coitus flower pop like “Make the Feeling Last” and “The Girl Who Loved, The Girl Who Loved.”

And in case you’re wondering, my perfunctory summaries reflect the formulaic ingredients in these songs, none of which -- save perhaps for the eight-minute title track -- really adds anything new or exceptional to the era’s abundant harvest of either ‘70s heavy rock seedlings, or the overripe fruits of ‘60s psychedelia.

Point being that I’ve heard a lot of better obscure hard rock from this era (Cactus, Bloodrock, Budgie, Trapeze, Leaf Hound, Lucifer’s Friend, etc., etc.), but I’ve also heard worse (Warhorse, Light of Darkness, Crushed Butler, etc.), and at least the 'heads’ in Head Machine were wise enough to keep their identities hidden!

Plus, by the time the sessions for Orgasm wrapped up in November and December of ‘69 and the album’s limited pressing (*) dribbled into record stores the following year, those involved were lending their real names to far more promising projects, most notably Hensley and Kerslake with Toe Fat and Uriah Heep.

But the curious origin story of Head Machine’s brief dalliance was obviously enough to eventually elevate Orgasm to minor cult status among unkempt, crate-digging vinyl nerds with an interest in this pivotal and oft-under-reported time in music history.

* Available in two pressings: the altogether plain, black-and-white vertigo-like clitoris overhead and the colorful seashell variation shown in this reissue’s inner gatefold.

Night Sun: Mournin’ (1972)

Long raved over by discerning proto-metal collectors, Night Sun’s sole LP from 1972, called Mournin’, was one of those overlooked gems which, whether through bad promotion, bad timing, or bad luck, barely notched a blip on rock ‘n’ roll’s radar at the time of its release. 

Formed from the ashes of a late-’60s jazz-rock band called Take Five, Bruno Schaab (vocals, bass), Walter Kirchgassner (guitar), Knut Rössler (organ, saxophone), and Ulrich Staudt (drums) briefly named themselves Night Sun Mournin’ ... see, it’s all there!

Like quite a few German hard rock albums of the day, Mournin’ was produced by the legendary Conny Plank (Faust, Kraftwerk, etc.), who took this Manheim quartet into Hamburg’s Windrose Studios and emerged with nine slices of dynamic, oft-surprising European heavy rock.

Surprising in that the spastic, explosive almost scat-sung opening tandem of “Plastic Shotgun” and “Crazy Woman” simultaneously launched the LP into full-blown metallic hyperbole, while acknowledging Night Sun’s unusual jazz experience, later revisited on the excellent, sax-dominated capper “Don’t Start Flying,” which reminds me of Blodwyn Pig.

But if this sounds a tad exotic to you, never fear, because, for the most part, songs like “Slush Pan Man,” “Blind,” “Nightmare” and “Come Down” follow in the footsteps of British heavies like Deep Purple, Uriah Heep and Atomic Rooster, much like Night Sun’s top-flight compatriots, Lucifer's Friend and Blackwater Park. 

I’d even go out on a limb and say that Night Sun are the equal of their heroes on a pair of foreboding standouts: “Got a Bone of My Own,” which eerily rises to greatness from murky guitar echoes, and the morbid “Living with the Dying,” which rides a hypnotic staccato groove, unleashing Blackmore-slippery guitar, overdriven organ, and even drum solos, along the way.

In all seriousness, if you’re curious enough to explore teutonic proto-metal beyond the Scorpions’ Lonesome Crow, the next two albums I’d recommend are Lucifer’s Friend’s self-titled debut and Night Sun’s Mournin’, and it’s a shame the latter would never record together again.

Instead, with the exception of frontman Bruno Schaab, who later worked with Kraut-rockers Guru Guru, the members of Night Sun quickly faded into obscurity, leaving Mournin’ as the only evidence of their mercurial existence, thus only increasing the mystique surrounding this LP over the years.

p.s. -- Some of these words were adapted from my All-Music Guide biography of Night Sun and my review of Mournin’.

UFO: UFO 1 (1970)

This blog is dedicated to Pete Way: if you looked up “rocker” in the dictionary, you might find his photo ...

When most fans think of UFO, it’s as one of the ‘70s most exciting hard rock bands, sparked by the singular talents of guitarist Michael Schenker; but years before the mercurial German was even invited to join their ranks, the otherwise U.K.-bred group pursued a less celebrated, albeit necessary initial career trajectory as one of the pioneering space rock groups.

The band even took their name from London’s trendy UFO Club (replacing their original choice, Hocus Pocus), which had been home to Pink Floyd’s earliest sightings behind Syd Barrett and, later, a popular hangout for the rock ‘n’ roll elite.

It was in that same club that singer Phil Mogg, guitarist Mick Bolton, bassist Way and drummer Andy Parker were spotted and signed to independent Beacon Records, before launching both their career and their long-playing debut, UFO 1, 50 years ago this month. 

And I’ll start by pointing out that, rather than the band’s self-penned material, my attention was first drawn to UFO’s savage, feedback-laden cover of Eddie Cochran’s “C’mon Everybody,” which resembles (and was no doubt inspired by) none other than Blue Cheer’s seismic take on Cochran’s other ‘50s rock staple, “Summertime Blues.”

UFO 1 also saw the fledgling band trying their hands at Bo Diddley’s “Who Do You Love?” (not bad) and the Fred Hellerman/Fran Minkoff anti-war ballad “(Come Away) Melinda” (meh), which was also covered by Uriah Heep that same year.

As for the band’s originals: dreamy, cryptic reveries like “Unidentified Flying Object” and “Treacle People” reflect UFO's space rock style, but they were frequently taken out back and beaten soundly by a gang of heavy rockers like “Boogie,” “Timothy” and “Follow You Home.”

Meaning that anyone visiting this UFO with expectations of meeting a wise and peaceful alien civilization, will likely be shocked by the band’s generally unhinged heavy rock fury, to say nothing of lascivious blues workouts like “Shake it About” and “Evil.”

Not until the following year’s sophomore long-player, Flying, would the band’s spacier songwriting inclinations get well and truly pushed to the fore, establishing UFO’s early career narrative as musical/thematic kinsmen to the Floyd, Hawkwind, and other galactic travelers.

But neither of UFO’s fist two LPs found an audience in the UK. or U.S. (where UFO 1 was issued by Motown subsidiary, Rare Earth) -- only cult followings in Japan and Germany, ultimately leading to Bolton’s departure and a near-three-year hiatus before they re-emerged with 1974's Schenker-enhanced Phenomenon. 

And the rest, as they say, is history ...

p.s. -- Some of these words originate in my Ultimate Classic Rock analysis of UFO 1.