Ray Thomas “From Mighty Oaks”

I found this 1975 record in the used store sitting next to its 1976 companion, Hopes, Wishes & Dreams, as if competing for the worst title of all time award. With album cover art to match! (I’ve since encountered them in stores, always the pair, never one without the other!) I thought for a moment they had mis-shelved some drastically reduced nostalgia calendars, but no—two albums from the mid-Seventies that I’d never heard of by a guy I’d never heard of, Ray Thomas (not to be confused with Thomas Ray, the cricketer). But, of course, I’d heard Ray Thomas, as one of the founding members, and flautist, of The Moody Blues. And indeed, it was when that band took a well-deserved break that led to this twin masterwork.

First up, there’s a kind of lame overture, an instrumental medley of songs on the album! I tried to talk them out of it, but who listens to a 15-year-old? But then we get the real first song, the fantastic “Hey Mama Life,” kicking off with a line like, “For a man who drinks his whisky by the jar.” I’m in! Had the members of the Mama Art Movement (c.1987) known about this LP, surely this number would have been our anthem. “Play it Again” is another good one! And if you can say, much less sing, “play it again” without adding “Sam”—you’re a better man than I. The song has a bridge that’s so epic, you want to call it Natural Selection—which even leads to its own solo— impressive. The next, however, is somebody else’s teatime, sorry. Then a decent rocker, highlighted buy some harmonica, speaking of turds. Side Two, however, back on track with the epic, “Love is the Key”—dude is going for it, extending the last words of each line with enough vocal vibrato to cause structural damage in some old buildings. If you thought he might be a bit shy about excessive romantic sentiment, forget it now! “You Make Me Feel Alright”—which I Like Okay. “Adam and I,” AKA, Eve’s Lament, also okay. But finally, “I Wish We Could Fly” is a closer to close all closers—just way, way, way over the top—sounding almost like they didn’t expect to ever do another almost identical record the next year.

The inside cover is an actually kind of pretty, soft-focus and subtle photo of a man (Ray?) and a child—sentimental, but tasteful—which could have easily been the wistful, not disturbing album cover. And then there’s the insert, which opens to a 24-inch-tall, low-contrast b&w photo of Thomas, hands on hips, looking like he’s here to collect the rent. Complete lyrics are superimposed on either side of him. On half the other side is a fantasy inspired illustration of a mighty oak, with gaps and branches and shadows spelling out the record’s title, with Ray Thomas mowed in the grass below. Perhaps this came in second as album cover consideration. But then… on the other side, is one of the best band photos I’ve ever seen, a bit Olan Mills style, and they’re really duded up with enough clashing colors and patterns to cause a disturbance in The Force. You kind of wonder if they got together, with the wardrobe, whimsically—but that hair! Nothing not serious there!

Now, this album cover, as initially gag-inducing as it is, deserves some time here. It opens up to a 24-inch-wide panorama, an idyllic landscape with illustrated creatures (including man and boy) enjoying themselves, but it’s interesting, because when closed, it naturally becomes two different scenes. And you’ll notice on the left side, which is the back cover, a swimming swan and five swan-lets, a bearded man reclining next to a hopeless fishing pole while his focus is on the book he’s reading. Then, in the background, at first seems to be a nostalgic countryside scene with a little house, representing “home.” But if you look more closely, you’ll notice it looks like two identical houses sitting perpendicular and butted up against each other. What could it mean? And instead of one large tree next to the house(s), there are two trees, almost identical—but maybe not quite close enough to hang a hammock from. There is no hammock, either way. And stretching from the left side of the horizon, a rainbow arches into the clouds, but it has no color—it’s a white rainbow! Okay, then, the right side, or front cover, has a swan landing in the water, a boy with a little sailboat, and a dog bounding about. But then, way in the background, under a haze, lies a castle—where, no doubt, lies unspeakable evil.

2.20.26