Pink Fairies: Never Neverland (1971)

Not so much a band as a gang of musical miscreants, London’s Pink Fairies evolved out of ‘60s garage/psych ensemble The Deviants (*) and consisted of vocalist/guitarist Paul Rudolph, bassist Duncan Sanderson and, not one, but two drummers: Russell Hunter and the ubiquitous Twink (also vocals).

Along with like-minded dropouts such as The Edgar Broughton Band and Hawkwind (soon to recruit a young Lemmy Kilmister), the Fairies were closely aligned with the underground newspaper, International Times, based in the Ladbroke Grove neighborhood, and thus regular participants in political demonstrations and the free festival circuit.

In keeping with this radical lifestyle and mindset, the group’s lineup would always be fluid, their career highly unstable, and their albums inconsistent, freewheeling affairs -- yet each also yielded some strong material and at least one, spectacular performance.

And on the Fairies’ 50-year-old debut, 1971’s Never Neverland, that highlight was as an empowering, proto-punk anthem called “Do It” (later covered by Rollins Band, among others), which, over a stirring descending/ascending riff, urgently badgered listeners to get their shit together and make things happen:

“Well, don't think about it; All you got to do is, do it! Don't talk about it; All you do is do it, do it! Well, don't sing about it; If you ain't gonna, do it! Don't write about it, man; If you ain't gonna, do it! It’s rock and roll ... and the message is, do it! You’re gonna rip me off, man; You blew it! Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it!”

You get the picture and, yes, such focused determination was often at odds with the Pink Fairies musical ambitions (or lack thereof), ironically enough.

Anyway, beyond this timeless tune (one of the best from perhaps the greatest year in the history of heavy music) all bets are off, subjectivity rules, and multiple musical personalities come home to roost, with only the Fairies’ anything-goes curiosity to bind everything together.

”Heavenly Man” is a Pink Floyd dreamscape, “Say You Love Me” a groove-laden stoned rocker, “Wargirl” a haunted Lizard King lounge number, and the title track a heavily-phased, and surprisingly chirpy acid trip to lysergic fantastic realms.

Piling on the irony, Never Neverland’s second half opens with a drunken lullaby-turned-hard-driving boogie entitled “Track One, Side Two,” pit-stops for a minute of growling feedback named “Thor,” then roars into a psychobilly romp called “Teenage Rebel” that sounds a little like Motörhead.

All of this beautiful madness and spontaneous chaos culminate in the self-explanatory, eleven-minute jam, “Uncle Harry's Last Freak-Out” (it’ll blow you mind), after which comes a nebulous epilogue, in the boldly named “The Dream is Just Beginning.”

Of course, the dream was already over, and the world simply hadn’t bothered to burst the Pink Fairies’ bubble yet; but that was just as well since, the group, like Never Neverland itself, rarely set their feet on solid ground to begin with.

To put it another way, the “idea” of the Pink Fairies was always bigger than their practical accomplishments, but that’s alright.

It’s why, a few years ago, I invested something like $75 on this ultra-rare, near-mint first U.K. pressing, sheathed in a stenciled PVC cover, which today seems to retail for well over $200, so here’s another minor inheritance my kids need to thank me for (but won’t).

* Go read Mick Farren’s fascinating chronicle of radical rock ‘n’ roll politics in not-quite ‘60s London, Give the Anarchist a Cigarette ... if you can find a copy!