At this point, Wood, Lynne, and Bevan were working on two albums at once, although the real work was on the ELO debut record. This last Move album was just that - close the book on the project once and for all. Still, it's a fairly good effort, mainly consisting of progressive pop material (tinged with the Wood/Lynne classical touch), interspersed with send-up material that is mildly entertaining. For example, Bevan does a hilarious - in that it's off the mark - imitation of Johnny Cash on "Ben Crawley Steel Company". But the serious stuff makes an impact as well, like on the soaring title track (composed by Lynne) and Wood's forlorn "It Wasn't My Idea To Dance". My preference is for the experimental nature of Looking On, but this is a good follow-up, and send-off.
By this point the original lineup of The Move had splintered, and despite a run of high-charting singles in their native U.K. they were at a crossroads. Shazam ended up being a compromise effort, consisting of mostly amplified covers to appease lead singer Carl Wayne, who ended up leaving the group shortly after the album was released, anyway. The first side is by far the more relevant one, featuring mostly Wood compositions, including a booming, more dramatic remake of "Cherry Blossom Clinic" (titled "Revisited"), followed by a stunning medley of classical works in the public domain reinterpreted in a rock setting. Also of note is "Hello Susie", which veers in a cheerful pop-metal direction. Out of the covers on the second side, "Fields of People" (originally cut by Ars Nova) is the definite standout, but still lags compared to the inspired content that came before it.
In the psychedelic 60s The Move were easily the most controversial act in the UK, where outside antics often overshadowed the actual music. As a result, it took over a year for them to cut and release a debut album - at one point, the master tapes were stolen, found in disrepair, and had to be re-recorded - and when they did, it proved to be as eclectic and colorful as the cover suggested. Led by mercurial singer-songwriter Roy Wood, the material ranged from full-blown psych pop to Baroque to rockabilly to doo-wop, but all of it stands apart thanks to Wood's idiosyncratic, decidedly darker approach. The depth is somewhat lacking but the breadth of The Move's debut is what is most impressive, and certainly never matched by subsequent releases.
There’s only six tracks, so unlike other live albums of the era, many of which were gargantuan double/triple album length extravaganzas, this is short, sweet, and to the point. The bookend tracks are, yes, “Fool for the City” and “Slow Ride”. What else would they be – “Fiddler on the Roof” and “Singing in the Rain”? One thing I will say about both songs performed live is, stripped of all of their studio enhancements, they do sound slightly subdued in a live setting. But generally, the group delivers the tunes and gives the fans what they paid for. In between, they include tracks from their first two records – nothing, sadly, from Rock & Roll Outlaws or Night Shift, which are two records I really like, and I thought contained better material than what was on their first two albums. The second track is “Home in my Hand” which I’m pretty ambivalent about. The disc takes a tick upward with the third track, their cover of “I Just Want to Make Love to You”, which also was the group’s first hit. I’d go as far to say that, on sheer energy alone, this track is the highlight of the disc, and it definitely spills over to the next two tracks, “Road Fever” and “Honey Hush”. I can understand why this album was Foghat’s biggest seller, because it amply demonstrates that above all else, they were a very entertaining live act. My one quibble here is - why is this disc on single LP length and why has anyone not seen fit to release an expanded version of this performance? It just seems to me that even on what should be easily their strongest platter by a long shot, the group got shorted, somehow…or maybe I’m reading too much into this?
The album title is not just there for kicks; the band actually recorded it in a Marblehead, Massachusetts studio (with George Martin in the producer's chair), and it was expected to break them on a large-scale level, but instead, the breakthrough never materialized, and the band quickly fell back into obscurity. Once you hear the album, you begin to understand why. The second try with the Kulberg/Roberts/Rowan/Greene/Baskin alliance, and this time around, they try to make it more palatable to then-listening audiences. It sounds clearer than ever before, and you know this is roots-fusion done with class, professionalism, and intent - yet, the elements which made Seatrain stand out in the first place have been relegated to background status by now. The only place where the real all-star of the band, Richard Greene, gets to show-off is on the album ender, "Despair Tire", which is really nothing more than an extended joke of a track for him to solo and riff on. A fairly entertaining joke, mind you, but it's a joke all the same. Everywhere else you are confronted with decent, yet meandering FM-friendly efforts credited to either the Kulberg-Roberts team, Peter Rowan, or Baskin. All of them are decent, none of them are bad, but nothing ever rises to the level of impressive. One thing I should mention here is they trot "As I Lay Losing" from the debut album out of the archives, but frame it under the title "Losing All the Years", and it contains none of the manic, on-the-edge energy which marked the version heard on the debut record. I find it difficult to call this a disappointing experience, because there were indications of this in the album before this one, but certainly, the heart, soul, and adventurous spirit of Seatrain is barely in evidence. The surprising thing is, Rowan and Greene would leave after this album, and Kulberg would soldier on for one more record under the Seatrain moniker (which I do not have) called Watch, with a completely different lineup.