In the wake of the band Spirit's first breakup, Jay Ferguson and Mark Andes decamped to this tweener project which released a slew of albums in the early 1970's, with the debut being the most successful from a commerical standpoint. Under their new name (taken from a Chuck Berry song) Ferguson and Andes cook up a sound that finds a comfortable void somewhere between Joe Walsh's escapades around the same time, and the British glam rock movement. Other than the final track "Flying Home" it's an upbeat record filled with its' share of hooks and interesting guitar passages, yet there is something about the overall approach that misses the mark as well. Then again, Spirit was a talented band with all the ability in the world, and they never connected with a mass audience, either. So, my best guess is, most people will readily relate to the lead-off sing-a-long track "Run Run Run" (which was a chart hit) and then slowly lose interest as they progress through the rest of this eminently solid, but not overwhelmingly impressive record.

Here we find Iron Butterfly in an envious yet very difficult position, trying to quickly followup one of the strangest commercial successes in pop music history. Little wonder it made an immediate impact - nearly topping the charts, going Gold - then fading from view just as fast, derived by critics as a wobegone relic-before-its-time. The actual truth is a bit murkier. Ball attempts to take their staunch, street-hippie sound, and spin it off into different directions, but often it's a struggle even though there are moments where you feel like they hit the right vein. Part of the problem is their is no big drawing card like an "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida". Instead, it's a coherent set of songs in varying styles. On the one hand, it shows they were looking ahead to the next stage of their development, but on the other hand, this did not meet public expectations. Regarding the material itself, the band has even dropped the hippie mindset, and fallen into a depressing funk. This works in spurts - for example, "In The Time Of Our Lives" is an epic, paranoia-stuffed classic - but wears thin as you get through the record.

This defiantly unconventional debut record from the Hoodoos seems like it should be a real redneck rock kind of experience, but not really. In actuality these guys were quirky musicians who ended up in the post-hippie San Francisco scene and cut an album which reflected that mindset. Think of something similar to a darker, more risk-taking version of Little Feat, and you've arrived at Rack Jobbers Rule. For me, it's fun while it's on, but only slight bits leave an impression once it's off.

So, the ‘Hogs found time to record and release two albums in ’72 and surprisingly enough, it’s the lesser-known second release which wins out between the two. Judging by cover alone, one would think that Who Will Save the World is the immediate choice for casual listeners, but for me at least, Hogwash recalls the strengths of Thank Christ for the Bomb, and further amplifies them. One big change here is McPhee’s new found love of gadgetry – namely, guitar synthesizers, which really beef up the sound where it needs to be beefed up (the quite futuristic “Earth Shanty”, for starters). It also enables the band to really put the thump behind their progressive blues-rock aims, if you know what I mean. Of course, this would not mean much without the material being interesting on its’ own, and Tony is back to being all ornery over stuff in general. Turning his wrath inward, outward, on the future and the past, for good measure, but always willing to check himself, too. “I Love Miss Oygny” opens the affair on a sufficiently loathsome, yet deliciously dramatic note, setting the scene for even more head-turning acts to ensue. Which it does – “You Had a Lesson” doubles down on the previous track, using Pete Cruikshank’s bass as THE rhythmic pattern to teach and taunt you with. After a quick, echoey interlude, which I assume is meant for the the-then new drummer Clive Brooks (“The Ringmaster”), we come to the next fence post – “3744 James Road”. Heavily STEEPED in the blues, this mammoth track is not some odd dedication to a Memphis BBQ joint at all, but quite the opposite – an acid-tongued rant against the dangers of a musician’s life spent on the road. The ebbs and flows and theatrics of this track are the real attractions, though. The second half of the album goes more in a progressive rock direction. “Sad is the Hunter” and “S’one Song” have pronounced prog rock vibes – in certain places, they predate New Wave to these ears – while “Earth Shanty” solidly brings in elements of space rock to meld it with earthy folk-blues. Hence, the title, I would assume. Finally, as with past works, this album would not be complete without a look back, and this time it is “Mr. Hooker, Sir John” – a salt of the earth tribute to the man who gave the group its’ start in the business, John Lee Hooker. Not the best track here by a long shot, but it’s a Groundhogs album, so natural that a track like this would be on this record. So, out of all of the Groundhog albums I have reviewed, it gets the honor of being my favorite, mainly for being the one I gravitate to more easily above the others.

Here begins a string of loose conceptual LPs from The Groundhogs, and the basis for their status as minor legends today. McPhee and crew now drop all old-school blues pretenses, and move the blues to progressive realms full-steam ahead. The album cover, of course, is a big hint – and I can sum it up in two words: class warfare. The majority of songs here deal with the topic, whether it be the lament of the poor man having to face the music no matter what in “Soldier”, the out-and-out alienation of “Strange Town”, the historical arc of two world wars during the 20th century in the title track, or simply McPhee blatantly spelling out his disdain for the rich in tracks like “Status People” and “Eccentric Man”. And it goes beyond a simple “us against the man” mindset here, for most of these tracks you can hear the sheer power and desperation of McPhee’s drive against the system. There was always an intensity about his work, but now, he’s transmitted it to his band members as well. “Strange Town” is about as perfect and confused as start to an album as I have ever heard – somewhat reminiscent of a Procol Harum track, but heavier with the blues influence – and the main thing here is, that feeling of being somewhere you absolutely do not belong whatsoever. The title track is another water mark, where the players reach a heightened sense of fury towards the end of the deal almost out of nowhere. “Garden” is yet another track where everyone involved ratchets up the intensity factor beyond levels unimaginable – as if McPhee seems hell-bent on protecting that little patch of green of his at all costs.Not every track here connects in this exact fashion – “Ship on the Ocean” or “Darkness is No Friend” feel like lesser takes on these ideas – but generally, TS McPhee is now highly emotional about a lot of things and was surprising adept in communicating this displeasure to his band mates as well. And speaking of class warfare and all of that – well, as good as “Soldier” is, we have this album cover to remind us all just what class of people usually get sent off to fight these costly, bloody wars, right?