I bought this album after reading the story of Gary Walker & the
Rain in Shindig! magazine; it’s as entertaining a tale as any such from
the late sixties. The Rain’s reign was brief, but they left behind a
genuine “lost” album which has only recently seen the light of day
outside Japan and which will come as a pleasant surprise to aficionados
of Brit psych.
Gary Leeds was only ever a third wheel to the Walker Brothers, a
non-singing drummer thumping the tubs on live dates and TV appearances
and providing a further piece of eye candy for the photo shoots.
However, such was the impact of the Walkers in Europe and Japan that,
when the trio folded, Gary was easily convinced by conniving manager
Maurice King to put together a new band in England on the basis of his
kudos as a former Walker. He was fortunate enough to recruit two capable
Merseybeat veterans, Joey Molland (vocal, lead gtr) and Paul “Charlie”
Crane (vocal, keys, gtr), plus reliable London bassist John Lawson.
Allegedly Molland’s interview ran thus. Leeds: “You look like Paul
McCartney. Can you sing like him?” Molland: “Yes”. L: “Can you play
guitar like Eric Clapton?” M: “Yes”. L: “You’re in.” Serendipitously, he
really could do both, besides proving an adept songwriter. Lawson got
the job on the basis of his Gene Clark-like good looks and his orange
jacket and purple loons; such are the vagaries of rock showbiz.

Unashamedly cashing in on Leeds’s celebrity, the outfit would be known
as Gary Walker and the Rain.
The band’s recording career kicked off with a passable cover of
“Spooky” that failed to show in the UK or America but sold well in
Japan, where the Walkers had belatedly achieved godlike status. On the
basis of this UK Polydor permitted them to record an album, but then
inexplicably refused to release it. Only in Japan, where the band’s
local label, Philips, was crying out for further product, did it hit the
shelves; its title there was
Album No. 1, which follows a
Japanese penchant for such unambiguous nomenclature whilst appearing
pretty humdrum to Western sensibilities. On the ensuing tour of Japan
the band were mobbed by teenage girls, with the lion’s share of the
attention going to the drum-stool god rather than to the talented but
unknown front line.
Sadly, Beat Era heroes were less in vogue in the UK
by 1968; the gigs dried up, two subsequent single releases tanked, and
the band called it a day just a year after coming together. Molland went
on to be a cornerstone of Badfinger, while Crane became a noted music
publisher. Leeds enjoyed a brief renaissance when the Walkers reunited
in the mid-70s.
The album itself proves gratifyingly to be a distinctive pop-psych
set falling somewhere between a pre-Tommy Who, an un-flanged early
Status Quo and a nascent Badfinger. The slightly hazy production was by
ex-Four Pennies bassist Fritz Fryer, who enlisted much inventive studio
trickery to enhance the uncompromisingly basic eight-track recording
facilities. The leadoff track “Magazine Woman” sets out the stall, with
choppy rhythm, stun-gun lead guitar, delightful rough-edged harmonies
and “Taxman” rip-off bassline.

The ensuing tracks move from late
Merseybeat through freakbeat to proto-metal, some played straight,
others psychedelically treated. Notable are “Thoughts Of An Old Man”,
distinctly Pepper-ish musically and lyrically; “Francis”, a crunchy,
stereo-tastic garage rocker chronicling the adventures of an elderly
philanderer; and a totally wigged-out cover of Lieber and Stoller’s
venerable “If You Don’t Come Back” in best Jeff Beck Band style with
thudding backing and shards of barely controlled guitar feedback. The
original album closes with two ballads: the harpsichord-driven
pop-baroque “I Promise To Love You” and the gentle countrified acoustic
“Whatever Happened to Happy”.

The album finally hit the Western World as a CD in 2009, boosted by
the band’s sole post-album track and both sides of a single recorded
earlier by Gary with some Japanese musicians styled the Carnabeats. The
B-side of this is unselfconsciously wet-yourself hilarious. Why? I ain’t
telling; you’ll have to get the album to find out.(the risingstorm.net)
Nice work from the ex Walker Brother. Good popsike songs and in some songs the style is a little harder. A good pop album with Joey Molland (from later Badfinger fame) involved.
Enjoy
Frank
Flac part 1 &
Flac part 2 mp3@320