In 1969 a disparate band of young musicians found common ground in the Bristol/Bath musical stew and gathered together in a group called "Stackridge Lemon". With a constant flow of changing line-ups, finally by late 1970 "Stackridge" (having dropped the "Lemon") were Andy Davis/James Warren/"Mutter"Slater/"Crun"Walters/Mike Evans/and Billy Sparkle. Already their somewhat eccentric mix of witty, often poignant lyrics, memorable melodies, extended instrumental passages and self effacing stage presentation was catching the attention of the Music Press and the live gig circuit. It was this line-up that constantly toured the U.K. for the next three years, slowly building a fanatic following and releasing 3 Albums on M.C.A Records-the eponymous "Stackridge", followed by "Friendliness" and then in 1974 the George Martin produced "The Man in the Bowler Hat". With this triumphant masterpiece, regarded by many to be George Martin's finest creation outside of his Beatles canon, the band seemed to be poised to make the final breakthrough to the upper echelons of stardom already attained by less talented contemporaries like Genesis and Supertramp. Alas it was not to be. Cracks began to appear in their once tight knit family, and the original Stackridge imploded. A succession of line-up changes served to confuse both the public and music critics alike, and although in many ways the new intake of musicians were technically superior to their predecessors and presented sleeker, more professional concerts, the band lacked the charisma and charm of the original band. Mishandled and misunderstood by their new Record Label (Elton John's "Rocket" Records) and misdirected by a new Management Team, the band did record two more critically acclaimed albums, "Extravaganza" and "Mr. Mick" before finally splitting up in 1976.
New album:
Stackridge "A Victory for Common Sense" 2009
Stackridge's brand of folk-prog-rock proved a little too parochial and well-mannered to follow in the footsteps of Jethro Tull and Yes back in the 1970s, though they can claim the distinction of being the very first band to play Glastonbury. The reformed group's new album finds their strengths and weaknesses in full supply, notably their air of whimsical Englishness. Several tracks reflect a wistful sense of lost heritage comparable to The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society. In the jaunty "The Old Country", a retired expat couple, finding life Down Under less blissful than expected, hanker after a return to Blighty, while the poignant tone of the pastoral elegy "(Waiting for You and) England to Return" hardens into the darker, more militant mood of "Red Squirrel", with its refusal to "bow to the grey machine". Oddly, the album sounds more Eighties than Seventies, though opening proceedings with a version of "Boots and Shoes" by the band's Eighties offshoot, the Korgis, does set the tone accordingly. The album's later stages, however, mark the return of the kind of unfocused meanderings that rendered prog-rock old and in the way the first time round, most notably in the 11-minute "The Day the World Stopped Turning", an event surely deserving rather more drama than is involved here.