Recording of the Week,
Mike Westbrook - Live 1972
“It is the infectious music which doesn’t seem to begin or end. It whisks you away into a pulsating kaleidoscope dream of world sounds, bursts of noise and quiet, unnerving spaces. Then suddenly the melody is back, like a familiar turning in the road.” These are the words of Esther Ripley, journalist for the The Tavistock Times, that grace the back cover of Mike Westbrook’s Live 1972. That LP, originally issued the following year, was the first ever release on the pianist and bandleader’s newly-founded independent label, Cadillac Records, which he established during the same period in conjunction with the tireless promoter of British jazz, John Jack (1933-2017).
Although this short-lived band would only exist in the iteration heard on this recording for several weeks before evolving into something altogether different, its commitment to wax would pave the way for the development of a revolutionary but suave branch of galvanised musical exploration. Ever the entrepreneur, Westbrook’s initial reasoning behind founding the label was thanks in no small part to the lack of interest received at the time from either of the majors on which he had previously found success. Prior to this moment, Westbrook had been at the centre of the British jazz storm, with his Concert Band having most recently recorded and a string of heavy-hitters in the form of Marching Band Vol. 1 & 2 and Love Songs (1970) for Deram, and Metropolis (1971) on RCA, not to mention the surreal travelling circus or ‘multimedia event’, The Original Peter, a spectacle which truly has to be seen to be believed...
While the ensemble behind the latter album had been touring in different incarnations over the previous handful of years, Miles Davis had stopped by the Isle of Wight in August of 1970 for an unforgettable summer’s eve concert, still revered to this day. No doubt the enterprising Westbrook would have caught wind of this cataclysmic paradigm shift into ‘jazz-rock’. In turn, the contents of Live, 1972 demonstrably argue in favour of such cultural changes, as observed through this group’s subtle employment into a uniquely free form of extended vamps and electric jams. Its sonic profile will be familiar to fans of Soft Machine or other such bands of the Canterbury ilk, and Westbrook would venture further out into the idiom proper as time went on. But this album, which largely features a live recording taken from a concert at Westbrook’s alma mater – Kelly College (now Mount Kelly School) in Devon – marks the bandleader’s first foray into the slimmed-down yet unpredictable territory of serious headbanging and riffs.
Of all the players on this album, only drummer Alan Jackson and saxophonist George Khan would survive the cull giving rise to Westbrook's successive outfit, Solid Gold Cadillac, which features in the television footage below. As for the pair, Khan comes across as the sort you'd typically describe as a 'nutty' character, perhaps an understudy for The Mothers of Invention, but his erratic skronks do serve their purpose; he sure can serve a mean blues when he wants to! Meanwhile, Jackson's mutton-chopped appearance, which one might only compare to a billiard hall bouncer, seeks not to betray his creative contributions but only serves to remind present-day listeners of the harsh reality of the treadmill of trends, genres and, yes, even hairstyles. It's minutiae such as these which I don't think detach us from the past, but rather they encourage us to bond with it. The bandmembers' captivating appearance, tinged with just a hint of irony to keep you wondering if they really do mean it, is enough to reinforce the fact that, in those days, aspects of cultural progressivism were lurking beneath every loose paving slab. Better not tread on one, or else you might find a case of radical indifference running up your trouser leg.
Available Formats: CD, MP3, FLAC
Barney Whittaker
