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FUZZ It needs more. The Freakbeat Era


Most record collectors have heard the term "freakbeat"; but it's one of those slippery terms that defies easy definition. To call it the British version of garage punk is not only too easy, it's wrong (garage punk was an American reaction to the British Invasion bands - freakbeat definitely wasn't a reaction to a reaction - and besides the garage records didn't really cross the Atlantic). The bridge between beat music and psychedelia is much closer to the truth, although the lines are decidedly blurry at times. What is certain is that it took the music that was getting commercial release (and even chart placings) and pushed it further. After all, if a little feedback worked for the Yardbirds, just think what a lot of feedback would do for someone else. And why use just a bit of distortion, when the knob would go all the way? The playing didn't have to be perfect in fact, a lot of imperfection was demanded, as long as the meters could go into the red - but the attitude had to be there. Add a generous helping of rawness in the vocals, and music that might have had its grounding (somewhere along the line) in R&B, and you had freakbeat. Pure it certainly wasn't; exciting it definitely was. For freakbeat bands; the Rolling Stones didn't go far enough. They might have been the nightmares of fathers across the U.K. ("Would you let your daughter marry a Rolling Stone?" ran one headline), but to the freakbeat boys - and they were, almost without exception, boys - the Stones were pussycats, and the Beatles didn't register on the dial. Even the Pretty Things, who took things to extremes for mid-'60s chart acts, were fairly meek and mild. Freakbeat was the cutting edge of rock, a place where beat met noise, and the people making the music smiled. Deciding who was and who wasn't freakbeat (the term, incidentally, was coined in the 1980s by Phil Smee of the Bam Caruso reissue label) is fluid, at best - an inexact science. It merrily crossed back and forth between the boundaries of Mod and R&B, offering a kind of proto-psychedelia. Ever, saying something like, if they were on the charts then they couldn't be freakbeat, isn’t right. The Pretty Things edged into it, the Troggs, Them, the Who, Primitives, Easybeats, and the Move all qualify, at least part of the time. And let's not forget some lesser-known, but equally influential acts like the Creation and the Action who weren't afraid of making their sound dirty. Looking back, the Troggs might seem like more of a joke than a real band; their lasting fame coming from an expletive-filled tape rather, than their hit singles. But they were real enough, perhaps the perfect British, garage band. If they'd recorded nothing besides "Wild Thing," they'd still be worth a place in the freakbeat pantheon. But they did a great deal more. Formed in the decidedly unhip backwater of Andover in 1964, they came to the attention of Larry Page, who'd masterminded the early days of the Kinks. After an unsuccessful debut, "Lost Girl" in 1966 they latched onto "Wild Thing," which had already been a flop for the Wild Ones, and left their mark all over it. Three distorted chords from the guitar, a basic beat, and Reg Presley's simple vocal became far more than a sum of its parts; it was a rock'n'roll rallying cry that was every bit the equal of "Louie Louie." A number one on Britain and America (where, through strange circumstances, it was released simultaneously on two different labels), it might even have been freakbeat's finest hour. Considering that "Wild Thing" had originally been envisioned by Page as a b-side, it worked its magic (as did "A Girl Like You," recorded in the same 45-minute session, which became their second hit). Page 2 © Copyright 2004 GOLDMINE Magazine

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