Now on my.... oh, seventh spin of the day through Terry Reid's 1973 forgotten gem River, I think it's safe to say that I love this record.
Ever since I started bringing guest DJs onto the show - and they started bringing their extensive record collections onto the show - I've been growing more and more interested in the great and personally uncharted expanses of the musical past. I had a respectably musical upbringing, but the Donny Hathaways and the Harry Nilssons and the Emitt Rhodes-es of the world all eluded me until recent years (what did I say yesterday about door-opening influences?), and being introduced to a few of them in a basement on-air studio over dusty-smelling sleeves and shiny new turntables has made me want to meet all of their friends.
Last week, Paige at Flux-Rad shared a link to the DK Presents list of "The 20 Most Overlooked Albums Of All-Time." "Ooh," I thought. "Seems like a lovely way to spend the day." So I did. And while I didn't make it through all twenty, I stopped for a very good reason - I got stuck on River.
It was the back story that caught my attention - promising young singer is tapped by Jimmy Page to be the lead vocalist of a new band, The New Yardbirds, but said promising young singer is in the midst of his own career pursuits, and has committed to touring with the Rolling Stones, so he turns down the offer. He recommends another promising young singer, Robert Plant, instead - and you can figure out the rest. Sadly, you can't read a thing about Terry Reid without hearing about the fact that he turned down the opportunity to be in Led Zepplin, and who he is became Who He Wasn't - capital letters across the board. He became a trivia fact, a footnote, and everyone forgot about what he actually did, which at the very least includes releasing a brilliant album in 1973.
The only record Reid recorded for Atlantic, River is best described in a PopMatters review written at the time of its re-release in 2003. It's worth hopping over there to read in its entirety, but the part that stuck out to me was the description of the album's spontaneity - it does, in fact sound "as if Reid was making up the songs on the spot." The sense of improvisation, the vocal risks, the warmth and organic feel of the production (until I read that review, I hadn't noticed the two coughs left in the album opener "Dean"), the blend of folk and blues with more world-ly sounds of samba and bossa nova (on my first run through I thought it sounded an awful lot like Stevie Wonder) - it falls on your ears like an old friend, and there's a very good reason it's the only thing I've listened to today. It's the kind of album you expect your music-loving buddy to place reverently on the turntable before sitting down next to you on the couch and saying, "shhhhhhh - you have to listen to this."
Listen I will. For the rest of this afternoon, at the very least.
Amazon has River on 180g vinyl, though you can also grab the CD or mp3s.
