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Bulldog Breed - Made In England (1969)

Track listing:
  1. Paper Man (1969) 3:20
  2. Broomstick Ride (1969) 2:22
  3. I Flew (1969) 2:49
  4. Track 04
  5. Folder Men (1969) 2:39
  6. Dougal (1969) 2:31
  7. Track 07
  8. Reborn (1969) 2:36
  9. Friday Hill (1969) 3:14
  10. Silver (1969) 2:11
  11. You (1969) 2:38
  12. Top Of The Pops Cock (1969) 2:13
  13. Revenge (1969) 2:22
  14. Austin Osmanspare (1969) 3:13
  15. Halo In My Chair (Bonus) 3:47
  16. Porticullis Gate (Bonus) 2:34

Notes

Finally here is the official edition of this classic '60's UK psych/prog album from the DECCA master tapes! Originally released in 1969 on Deram this album sounds really ahead of the progressive game on certain tracks like "Broomstick Ride" whilst "Friday Hill" is a beautiful psychedelic number. This really is a late '60's period piece that deserves more attention. The band included future Gun/Please members and finally evolved into T2 very soon after the recording of the album. A Pre T2 / Gun UK psych masterpiece. Features new sleevenotes photos plus bonus tracks (the rare "Halo In My Hair"/ "Portcullis Gate").

There is no way on earth now that some corporate monolith would give a motley bunch of south London teenage longhairs the keys to the studio and a big wodge of cash, saying “go on lads, do what you like.” Yet that's exactly what Decca did in 1969 to these fortunate 16 to 19 year olds, and were rewarded with possibly the most preposterous debut single ever released on a major label: Bulldog Breed’s ‘Halo In My Hair’ (b/w ‘Portcullis Gate’), included here as bonus tracks on the reissue of the band’s only album, Made in England.

‘Halo’ is a fantastic freak-beat rave-up replete with a ton of fuzz and a truly bizarre cyclic percussion/keyboard refrain that hammers itself into your brain until you run round the room screaming “What in the name of fuck is making that noise?” ‘Portcullis Gate, on the other hand, sounds truly like nothing else, Pounding, repetitive drums and filtered guitars lead into an astoundingly foolish lyric concerning madness, ancient battles and the underbelly of the psychedelic dream, bellowed out by a man with so much speed in his bloodstream that he can barely force his teeth apart to sing. Lovely.

The rest of the album is just as schizophrenic, and seems to come from that same place as earlier groups like The Yardbirds (post-Clapton) and The Misunderstood, the tracks still pop song short, but drenched in phasing and filtering, unhinged fuzztone and bizarre instrumentation. There are none of the 20-minute solos you’d expect from London in 1969 (or from the bands that sprung out of Bulldog Breed, Gun and the utterly prog-tastic T2) – just a bunch of Mods who’d discovered acid but couldn't put away the Purple Hearts and wanted to cram every single idea they had into perfectly formed three-minute epics.

They didn’t always succeed; but when they did the results were quite something, from the two-chord Detroit style ramalama of ‘Reborn’ to the flute-spangled psychedelic wonderment of ‘AustinOsmanSpare’, another track with lyrics so shameless that even David Tibet would be embarrassed to sing them.

You want screaming guitar battling against WWII radio traffic? You got it (‘I Flew’). You want to skip through rainbow-hued, diamond-frosted forest glades with saucer-eyed nymphs, while delicate jazz organ and folk harmonies slip between the boughs? You can do that too (‘Dougal’). You want the sleaziest piece of psych ever, with what sounds suspiciously like the singer having a wank over the top of the instrumental section? Well, it's right here (‘When The Sun Stands Still’). You want stomping, drunken, rocking blues, Neanderthal harmonica and titles like ‘Top Of The Pops Cock’?