Jellyroll “Jellyroll”

If this wasn’t the biggest record of 1970 it isn’t because it’s not energetic, with super-hot playing all around—particularly the rhythm section, and funk guitar, and rock organ, and horns, and a singer who’s going for it—wait, I just said everyone. It’s got an excellent album cover which opens up for a vertical, 24” x 12” psychedelic illustration (by Ignacio Gomez) of a woman made up of an incredible array of confectionery (somewhat in the style of painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo) both appetizing and nightmarish, and suitable for hanging in your crib. The band photo, inside, is very cool. The songs are all very good, solid songs. So what went wrong? Maybe it was the T. S. Eliot quote. I’m just kidding—it’s a good quote—the font’s a little large. Who knows. That saying, “The cream rises to the top?” I firmly believe, with the music industry, it should be: “The shit rises to the top.” Not that the cream doesn’t, sometimes, as well—I suppose both are true—cream and turds. That’s why we have critics, with little poop-scoopers. Well, and then, sometimes great stuff just disappears.

This is their only album. The members of the band went on to play in other bands, at least some of them—I’m not tracking everyone down. Actually, you can find some stuff written about this record online because I think it was kind of “re-discovered” —or is maybe being rediscovered all the time. Which didn’t stop me from finding it for $2 at Half Price Books. If you want some history of the band, or the aftermath—you can find it—I’m not going to regurgitate it here—though one thing I read is particularly interesting—that this band formed out of “The Dapps,” a Cincinnati funk band from the Sixties that backed James Brown for a couple of years. You don’t need to know that to hear it on the record’s best songs, which lapse into some extremely nice funk grooves. The concept of “overdoing it” is virtually absent from this record. I can’t necessarily speak for the band—I’m not implying that they partied ’til they dropped or did the Barkley Marathons or drove their rock bus recklessly—I want to assume they were model citizens and practiced a lot. It’s an accomplished LP.

I usually list the best (my favorite) songs, but my editor said don’t do that, it’s boring, so I’ve got a “Restless Feeling” to follow a different approach and “Search for a Memory” (hot), since the song titles lend themselves to a miniature abstract psychedelic narrative for your pleasure, including a “cover” of the 1968 single from psych band Aorta—a song I’m familiar with, even though I’ve never heard of Aorta!  “Strange.” I’ve tried to forget the past, and I’m “Trying to Forget Someone Too” during a “Quick Trip” to the convenience store for microwave pizza in order to “Help Me Over” (very good) to Side Two which just gets better, “Come On, Baby” (!) and “Follow Me” (!!) “At the Beginning of Tomorrow” (AKA, midnight) for some “Hard Times” (fav on the record) where I’m standing on the inside looking out (AKA “Standing on the Inside”—exceptional closer). So. They all went their separate ways, as far as I can tell. Any further info can be transmitted for free. One side note: the drummer, Stu Perry, went on to play with Blue Rose. Which renders this a Blue Rose case.

2.13.26