Archive for the ‘Cadet Concept’ Category

The Status Quo

Monday, March 5th, 2012

Listen: Technicolor Dreams / The Status Quo
Technicolor

It’s still there, my favorite hotel in the whole wide world. Amsterdam, Holland’s American Hotel. Don’t let the name trick you into thinking it’s some home away from home for US citizens. Instead, the place has weathered nearly a century at Leidsekade 97. Just gander at the wall photos in the Bar American and try not letting your heart freeze. Good luck.

A cocktail lounge in the true European sense of the word, Bar American overlooks one of the city’s main squares, the center of Amsterdam as I know it. When time has permitted, I’ve sat for hours from mid afternoon sipping champagne, preferably as drizzle turns to sleet, watching the world go by. Seldom have I been been happier. Dare I say, some of my best times ever have been had in that hotel, other than when Corinne convinced me to eat one too many hash cakes in The Bulldog a few blocks away. Even the walls of our room, when throbbing with dripping colors, become a warm and fuzzy memory of The American Hotel, where, by the way, they serve free champagne at the breakfast buffet.

Somewhere in that bar, right next to a signed, framed shot of The Status Quo, hangs a similar photo of The Herd. I know, I know. Have mercy.

But I can see them both, clear as day, and it does remind me of Andy Bown’s haircut. Undoubtably the best haircut in 60′s pop. Seriously, who had a better haircut than Andy Bown? Go ahead, I dare you to challenge that one.

Bless those Status Quo guys. By the mid 70′s, they’d made him a member of their band, where he still remains today.

The Status Quo’s third US single, ‘Technicolor Dreams’, has been forever overlooked, given it’s one of the five greatest psychedelic pop records from that sparkling era. Other equally worthy tracks are consistently spotlighted, but never this. Although, THE RECORD COLLECTOR PRICE GUIDE could convince you otherwise. Withdrawn just after release in the UK, ‘Technicolor Dreams’ booked for £1000 a few years back.

Having gotten my original in the day, let’s fast forward to ’94, while on a Dallas business trip with Duane, I picked up another for $9, then rather pricey. Constantly needing safety copies helped in making an incredibly valuable investment. Don’t ask me exactly where it is though, but definitely somewhere in the black hole of unfiled 7′s, lining up for wall shelf seniority.

Rotary Connection

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

RotaryAladdin, Rotary Connection, Cadet Concept, Chess, Minnie Riperton, Marshall Chess

Listen: Aladdin / Rotary Connection
Aladdin

Often described as a highly experimental band, Rotary Connection were actually the idea of Marshall Chess, son of Chess Records founder Leonard Chess. Marshall was also the culprit behind a new Chess Records subsidiary, Cadet Concept Records, an outlet to focus on psychedelic jazz rock instead of the blues and r’n'r genres which had made the Chess label so popular. Basically, he was a chip off the old block but with his finger on the pulse, as they say.

Despite the left of center commercial attempts, The Rotary Connection were basically unsuccessful at the check out counter, yet their critical and influential imprint grew over time. Looking back on their albums proved a lot more was brewing than most folks gave them credit for. ‘Aladdin’ was in an early stack of promos I picked up at the WMCR one night. I played it every few days for a couple of years. I guess you could say it was in light rotation.

I had no idea Minnie Riperton was their vocalist. At the time, I never even owned the albums, just the 7′s. Years later, the completist in me searched out those long players. Lo and behold, it’s Minnie Riperton. I should have recognized that voice, any time you’re not sure if it’s a piccolo or a person, it’s usually Minnie.

In the mid 90′s, when coffee table trip hop became the must have, hipsters Nuyorican Soul covered Rotary Connection’s ‘I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun’, and almost took it mainstream. I think the problem was it was too white for urban radio, and too black for pop, therefore falling into that bottomless crevasse known as ‘almost crossed over’.