Notes

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The Pretty Things have been a magnet for controversy since their inception. At a time when the Rolling Stones were seen as the ultimate nonconformists, the Pretty Things made them look tame by comparison. The band members' hair was longer, their lifestyles wilder, and their music louder and more extreme. Although their commercial success was limited, the Pretty Things were able not only to survive, but to evolve from R&B punks to psychedelic vanguards to 1970s hard rockers and beyond. Born survivors, they continue to command a loyal following without ever compromising their ideals or "bad boy" image.

The roots of the band can be traced to the late 1950s when Dick Taylor (b. January 28, 1943; Dartford, Kent, U.K.), Michael ("Mick") Jagger and various school friends would meet for after-school jam sessions at Taylor's parents' house in Dartford. By 1961, the small group had adopted a blues approach and dubbed themselves Little Boy Blue and the Blue Boys. Taylor was by now attending Sidcup Art School, where he and fellow student Keith Richards, sharing a passion for blues and R&B, got together to play guitar. As it turned out, Richards was a childhood friend of Jagger, and after the pair renewed their acquaintance, Jagger invited him to join the Blue Boys. By mid-1962, they had hooked up with guitarist Brian Jones-necessitating Taylor's switch from guitar to bass-and had renamed themselves the Rollin' Stones.


The Stones' decision to go professional in late 1962 coincided with Taylor's acceptance at the London Central School of Art. At the time, rather than continuing to play a secondary instrument in a background role, he chose to bow out of the group to concentrate on his studies. "I had to start concentrating on my exams," Taylor later explained to Rave magazine in 1964. "We didn't have a row or anything like that. I still see the boys sometimes and get on well with them."


Taylor still had the itch to play, though, and in 1963 he teamed up with another Sidcup art student, vocalist and harmonica player Phil May (b. November 9, 1944; Dartford, Kent, U.K.) and put together a group. They brought in May's friend John Stax (born John Fullegar, April 6, 1944; Crayford, Kent, U.K.) on bass, along with rhythm guitarist Brian Pendleton (b. April 13, 1944, Wolverhampton, Warks, U.K.; d. May 16, 2001) and a succession of drummers, including Pete Kitley and Viv Andrews. The name Pretty Things was chosen with a certain sarcastic glee, in homage to Bo Diddley and as a challenge to those who would deride the musicians' long-haired appearance. The group started playing at the Dartford Station Hotel before moving on to some college dates in the city. Around this time, Jimmy Duncan spotted them playing at the Royal College of Art and decided to become their comanager along with Bryan Morrison, who had attended the Central School of Art with Taylor. Their new management team found them gigs on the art school circuit and at the Railway Station Hotel. By May 1964, the band started playing the 100 Club, located at 100 Oxford Street, London, where they quickly "built up a reputation as one of the hottest new acts on the London scene," according to Record Mirror.


In early 1964, the group signed with Fontana Records. The label proposed that they add Viv Prince (b. August 9, 1944; Loughborough, Leicestershire, U.K.) on drums. Although only 19, Prince was already something of a music business veteran, having played with the Dauphin Street Six and Carter Lewis and the Southerners. Reportedly, he had also once been an income tax officer in Loughborough, Leicestershire. Higher-ups at Fontana believed that Prince would bring a degree of stability and professionalism to the Pretty Things' rather undisciplined sound. Their utter misread of Prince would emerge later, but in the meantime, Prince fit perfectly into the group-his skillful, energetic drumming giving their music a powerful new engine.


For their first single, the group recorded a track penned by Jimmy Duncan. "It was very tiring at first," Dick Taylor told Beat Instrumental, "but it could have been worse. We tried the number out at Regent Sound originally, then did the final takes at Philips' Studios." "Rosalyn" (backed with "Big Boss Man") was released in June, and the screaming, hard-pounding A-side received encouraging reviews. "Not a great deal of melody," wrote New Music Express, "but ample enthusiasm, sparkle and drive." Likewise, Record Mirror described it as a "Bo Diddley beat, wild vocal, good song, but maybe a little too confused for the charts." An appearance on the TV show Ready, Steady Go! followed, and the group's long hair, frilly shirts and animalistic sound sparked sufficient press furor to propel the single into the lower regions of the charts. An American agent who had seen them on Ready, Steady Go! offered the group an American tour and an appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show, an opportunity their management failed to take advantage of.


Although together for less than a year, the Pretty Things were now touring extensively throughout Great Britain, creating mayhem both on and off stage. Such media headlines as "Adults Hate Us More Than the Stones" and "Would You Take the Pretty Things into Your Local?" became commonplace. Early articles dwelled incessantly on their appearance, particularly their long hair, with one newspaper observing, "Phil May must have the longest hair on the long-haired current pop scene."


"We simply don't care," Phil May responded to Beat Instrumental. "All right, people say we are copying certain other groups. We're not. We're US. We know people don't like our hair, the way we behave or the way we dress. But we've got a big fan club and our money has gone up a lot for one-nighters and that's good enough for us."


May later admitted that "the touring was dodgy," but pointed out, "At least we had the knowledge that we were always being re-booked and that our money was going up . . . but fast. We had the scenes where even the ballroom staff didn't want to help us-again because of the way we look-but the fans went wild."


Finding a suitable follow-up single was not easy. "Lots of work, not enough good material," Prince commented at the time. "And we just didn't want to come out with a load of rubbish for the sake of having a release." May reiterated, "Eventually we'll get a lot more way-out on stage. And we'll probably work more to a folksy sort of field. But first we need a really big hit record. Must have one out for the first week in October," he joked. They considered several numbers, including a slow Jimmy Reed song called "The Moon Is Rising." Finally, they started composing their own material. "We reckon this is the best thing to do," Taylor told Beat Instrumental. "After all, the old authentic R&B numbers were always written from personal experience, and if we ever complete this number, it's going to be called 'Closed Restaurant Blues.'" Phil May thought he had a better title. "The 'Long Haired Blues' would be better, because it's our mops that cause all the trouble. One look at us and taxi drivers stick the hired sign up, and, as Dick says, restaurants always close down as soon as we walk in; it's a pity because we need food to keep our hair growing!"

The group found the perfect number penned for them by Johnnie Dee, former lead singer of the Bulldogs. Dee traveled with the band to "soak up the atmosphere." "Don't Bring Me Down" backed with "We'll Be Together" was issued at the end of October 1964. The A-side's crashing, wailing tempo changes and leering, sexually provocative vocals combined to ignite more controversy-and more sales. The single smashed into the Top Ten in November, and Fontana capitalized on the group's success, recycling their first two singles on an EP by year's end. To promote the single, the group embarked on an eight-day Scottish tour on October 12, followed by TV appearances on Ready, Steady Go! and Thank Your Lucky Stars.


With the success of their first two singles, they made plans for an LP and a film, with offers coming in for an American tour. "It now looks fairly certain that they will visit the States early in the New Year, possibly for the last two weeks of January," comanager Bryan Morrison told Record Mirror. But again, the plans fell through and the group didn't tour the States. Looking back, May felt that their not touring the U.S. until the 1970s was a mistake. He told Ugly Things, "The management-which was foolish really on their part-felt they were making money in Europe, and they wanted to wait for a really serious offer. Also, to some extent, our record company in America never worked very well with the singles."


"Honey, I Need" backed with "I Can Never Say" was issued in February 1965. The A-side, a raucous yet somewhat folksy number cowritten by Taylor, was another U.K. hit, peaking at #13. The Pretty Things' eponymous debut album followed in March, capturing the ferocious R&B sound of their live show on tracks like "Roadrunner" (one of four Bo Diddley covers on the LP), "Judgement Day" and "Oh Baby Doll." Meanwhile, original compositions like "13 Chester Street" and "Unknown Blues" showed the group using R&B as a form of personal expression, effectively grafting autobiographical lyrics onto traditional blues structures. Record Mirror aptly described The Pretty Things as "a lively album which although it is rough at the edges proves the Things to have a great deal to offer." The album was a strong seller, climbing to #6 in the U.K. that spring.


In March, the Midland Beat reported that the "unkempt look" of the Pretty Things was going out of style and contrasted their appearance unfavorably to local band Pete Tierney and the Nighthawks. "The 'smart look' is on the way back. There is no doubt that the public are getting fed up [with] groups with unruly, unkempt hair and disheveled dress," the newspaper's readers were informed. "Take a look at our photograph of the Pretty Things. Then study Jim Simpson's picture of the popular Birmingham group, Pete Tierney and the Nighthawks. The Brum boys' 'uniforms' give them a much more professional appearance than the Pretty Things."


Ironically, while the group was being bashed for their fashion sense, they were making plans to open a woman's boutique called the "Penny Halfpenny" near London's Portobello Road. Said May, "Designing for girls will be especially interesting when we get round to it. I think girls should dress to suit their personality-not the terrible fad of following fashion. I would design with a particular girl in mind. I think you've got to. Actually the most marvelous thing I ever saw was Anita Ekberg wearing a wet dress."


In April 1965, the Pretty Things made their first visit to Holland, where they had amassed a fanatical fan base. A riotous concert in Blokker was shown live on Dutch TV, but the broadcast was terminated midway through the band's third song after outraged viewers called the television station to complain.


While the press reported that their next single might be a Donovan composition, the Pretty Things instead decided to use "Cry to Me," a track found on a Solomon Burke LP. Said Taylor at the time, "This has been something of an eye-opener for us. We weren't at all sure we could do it without the results turning out sounding like somebody copying a Solomon Burke record. But I think it is identifiable [as] us." Released in July 1965, the soulful ballad offered a change in direction. The B-side, "Get a Buzz," was a fuzz guitar-driven studio jam recorded in just one take. In an interview in Disc Weekly, May explained, "Even though our new record is much quieter than our image would suggest, we merely thought we'd prove that it was something we could do." The single was a minor U.K. hit, peaking at #28.


Based on their last single, any illusions fans might have had that the Pretty Things had mellowed were shattered that August when the group toured New Zealand. "Pretty Things' Shock Exhibition" screamed the headlines of the New Zealand Truth. "Shocked police found long-haired, drunken members of English pop group the Pretty Things swigging whiskey only minutes before their performance in New Plymouth last week. In scenes unprecedented in the 50-year-old history of the city's opera house, the long haired 'musicians' broke chairs, lit fires backstage and abused officials." The article went on to report, "Unshaven drummer Vivian Prince ruined heart-throb singer Eden Kane's act" by laying down shreds of carpet at Kane's feet and shouting at Kane to step on them, crawling around the stage with a lighted newspaper, setting fire to props, breaking furniture, interrupting headliner Sandie Shaw's act with various pranks, and swigging whiskey from his shoe, which Prince joked was "meths" (i.e. methylated spirits).


A Christchurch newspaper reported, "The Pretty Things' performance was anarchic. With their shabby clothing and their shaggy coiffures, they looked like five delegates at a nihilists' conference. This impression was reinforced by their stage antics. The drummer, Vivian Prince, jumped on balloons, terrorized the others with swipes from his king-size sword, and finally went berserk with a plastic machine gun which he eventually smashed on the edge of the stage and flung at his screaming audience."


Offstage, Prince insisted on carrying around a dead crayfish for several days. John Stax recalled his behavior to Ugly Things: "We'd been giving Viv a bit of a hard time because of his drinking. He was really bad news. We'd locked the dressing room and he tried to break into it with an axe. You could see the axe, just like you see in the movies! Anyway, he got over that, and that night he tried to set fire to the bloody stage. He was just rushing across stage with these firebrands, like lighted torches made of newspapers! The fire brigade were called out and they kept squirting him with all this stuff, chasing him across the stage!"


The orgy of tabloid headlines and lurid details shocked the conservative nation and earned the Pretty Things a lifetime ban on playing in New Zealand. At the end of the tour, Prince was kicked off the plane heading home-prior to takeoff, fortunately-after an altercation with the pilot. Prince defended himself to Melody Maker, telling the newspaper, "The reports about us being incapably drunk and ruining the shows are false. Five papers printed stories which completely contradicted these reports. They said we went down great and the audiences were raving with us." His comments were corroborated by an article in the New Plymouth Daily News, which reported, "The Pretty Things brought the house down. They did everything but provide for a lover of beautiful music-and there were none of those in the audience. Theirs was R&B at its raving best. Electric excitement, and an original stage style, plus good R&B drumming. Viv Prince's brandishing a flaming newspaper was in short a very original twist to their act."


Even with the quintet's acknowledged penchant for outrageousness, it was apparent that Prince was becoming a liability. Increasingly, Skip Alan, Mitch Mitchell or Twink (a.k.a. John Alder) had to substitute when the drummer was incapacitated or failed to show up for gigs. However, Prince stayed around long enough to complete most of the group's second album, Get the Picture?, released in December 1965. Ranging from the jangling pop of "You Don't Believe Me" to the folkishness of "London Town" to the savage R&B of "Gonna Find Me a Substitute," the album showed incredible diversity and marked the continuing emergence of May and Taylor as songwriters on the tracks "Buzz the Jerk," "Get the Picture" and the atmospheric "Can't Stand the Pain." Record Mirror gave the LP an enthusiastic review, noting that it "could shake up a few folk who think of the Things as being a bit of a musical joke."


By the time of the album's release, Viv Prince had officially left the band. As Phil May explained to Disc Weekly, "We all like Viv but we had a disagreement over group policy." Prince responded to the official explanation by saying, "I agree it was a policy disagreement. Among other things they seemed to think that the personal publicity that I was getting was bad for the group." His replacement was 17-year-old Skip Alan (born Alan Skipper, June 11, 1948; Westminster, London, U.K.), who had previously played on sessions with Donovan and had fronted his own Skip Alan Trio. His first recording with the Pretty Things was "Midnight to Six Man," a single released at the end of the year right after the LP.


"We spent months trying to find something to record but there wasn't anything good enough about," Taylor told Record Mirror at the time. "We didn't want to push anything out, so we waited. Then we had to go to the studio and do mething, so Phil and I sat down and wrote 'Midnight to Six Man' in half an hour. We got the idea from all these people who you never see during the day. Then spend all their lives down [at] clubs at night and that's the only sort of place they ever go." The group reportedly spent 16 hours in the studio recording this composition, which they felt certain would return them to the upper regions of the charts. Though propelled in part by recommendations from Melody Maker ("a hard swinging modern R&B record") and New Musical Express ("the general atmosphere is exciting and tingling"), the single barely scraped into the U.K. Top 50, spending one week at #46.

The following year, a short film called The Pretty Things featured the group as silent actors in several Hard Day's Night-type scenarios and in a live club segment. Four songs from the soundtrack-"Midnight to Six Man," "Can't Stand the Pain," "£.S.D." and "Me Needing You"-were released on the On Film EP in January. Their next single, the storming, fuzz-laden "Come See Me," followed in April. The record was too wild for some reviewers' tastes. Disc Weekly called it "too ugly," adding, "They've become identified with this rather anti-sound; it's rather a shame." New Musical Express wrote, "All the time, there's a storming insidious beat," and concluded that while the A-side had "virtually no melody, which may well prevent it from climbing high in the chart . . . it gets right down to the guts of r&b." The flip side, "£.S.D.," referred to English currency-pounds (£), shillings (s) and pence (d)-but the underlying drug theme wasn't hard to deduce and the band was once again the subject of controversy. Only this time, controversy failed to translate into sales; the single reached #43 for five weeks before dropping off the charts.


After the relative failure of their last few singles, Phil May publicly remained defiant and refused to compromise their approach, telling Disc and Music Echo at the time, "As far as records are concerned we keep to our sound because it's ours. People have come to us with some lovely stuff which is obviously a hit-in fact other people have done it and it has been a hit-but it's too pretty for us." May then added, "But we won't conform. I suppose you could say we do what we want and to hell with everyone else, but that's a bit strong. The way I'd put it is like this: we play what we want to play, every single number, and we won't conform with trends. That way we're happy. And it looks as though we're happy too."


Nevertheless, they tried a new approach for their next single, recording Ray Davies's "A House in the Country" released in June 1966. More restrained than its predecessors, New Musical Express called the song "bouncy and quite tuneful." In an interview in Record Mirror, May explained, "We just can't keep on fighting the rest of the world," referring to the difficulties the band had in getting TV bookings because of their well-earned reputation for trouble. He noted that although their stage act would remain the same, they would try different approaches for their singles "rather than churn out all the wild stuff."


Despite the lack of success of "A House in the Country," they continued with their new sound on their next release, "Progress," an upbeat, horn-driven pop number released in December 1966. Although the single garnered some attention from the press, it was essentially another commercial nonentity.


Around this time, Brian Pendleton left the group rather suddenly by failing to show up for scheduled gigs and disappearing from sight. Eventually, the group members discovered that he had suffered a nervous breakdown. The group elected not to replace him and continued as a four-piece; but by this time they were floundering.


For their next album, Emotions, they augmented their quartet with session players, often using the orchestrations of Reg Tilsley. A frustrated Stax left during the making of the album and May brought in his childhood friend, bassist Wally Allen (a.k.a. Alan Wally Waller, b. April 9, 1944; Barnehurst, Kent, U.K.), and keyboardist John Povey (b. August 20, 1942; London, U.K.), both ex-Fenmen. The two new members were key to the Pretty Things' changing sound, providing harmony vocals and, in Allen's case, quality songwriting.


Emotions was issued in May 1967 to disappointing reviews and poor sales as disillusioned fans eschewed the group's softer, more melodic approach. The band members themselves disliked the album, feeling their songs had been sabotaged by the overwhelming string and brass overdubs courtesy of arranger/orchestrator Reg Tilsley. Nonetheless, Emotions made for a vivid time capsule of mid- to late-1960s England. Tracks such as "Death of a Socialite," "Photographer" and "Tripping" were worthy, socially relevant pop songs, and the quiet ballads "The Sun" and "Growing in My Mind" showed a new sensitivity in May's vocal approach.


Meanwhile, as a supplemental income source in the late 1960s and early 1970s, the Pretty Things members recorded anonymously for the DeWolfe Music Library, who filed their tracks for future use in typically low budget movies whenever a suitably "swinging" or "groovy" scene was called for. Consequently, the Pretty Things' music can be heard in some unlikely places, including some late 1960s/early 1970s soft porn titles and such horror flicks as Michael Armstrong's The Haunted House of Horror. These music library records (usually comprised of one side of vocal and one side of instrumental versions of the same songs) were credited to the fictitious group "Electric Banana" and were never intended for official release, so when the records began surfacing credited to the Pretty Things, the group members were not pleased. DeWolfe originally issued five albums of these recordings: Electric Banana (1967), More Electric Banana (1968), Even More Electric Banana (1969), Hot Licks (1970) and The Return of the Electric Banana (1978).


With Emotions, the Pretty Things completed their Fontana contract and freed themselves to pursue their new musical direction-an experimental sound more in tune with London's nascent psychedelic underground. They then signed with EMI and in the summer of 1967 ensconced themselves at Abbey Road, where they found a more free-thinking, creative environment working alongside the Beatles and Pink Floyd.


Teaming up with producer Norman Smith (fresh from Pink Floyd's debut, Piper at the Gates of Dawn), they released their first EMI single, "Defecting Grey" backed with "Mr. Evasion," in November. "We took him [Norman Smith] our cut of 'Defecting Grey,' which at six minutes was considered too long for airplay," May told Disc and Music Echo. "By the time he'd worked it over it was still 5 1/2 minutes long but we all decided to stick to our guns," May recalled. The A-side has since become a British psychedelic classic, a radically ambitious, Middle Eastern-tinged piece that intertwined several musical themes to stunning effect.


The equally dazzling "Talkin' About the Good Times"-resplendent with swirling harmonies, economical yet essential guitar riffs and colorful Mellotron sonorities-followed in April 1968, backed with "Walking Through My Dreams." By this time, Skip Alan had left the group to marry French woman he met while on tour. His replacement was Twink, who had most recently been a member of Tomorrow, a like-minded psychedelic outfit.


Sometime during July and August the group filmed What's Good for the Goose, a Norman Wisdom movie about a banker going through a midlife crisis. The group provided the music in the club scenes, and had small acting parts in the comedy.


Following the filming of the movie, the group continued sessions for their psychedelic masterpiece, S.F. Sorrow, a song cycle (or, as some preferred calling it, "rock opera") based on a Phil May short story. In November 1968, Derek Boltwood previewed the album in his Record Mirror column, "From the Underground": "The Pretty Things have just finished work on their new album, S.F. Sorrow. And I've just heard the finished article all the way through. And I'm more than impressed by it. I hope it doesn't sound too pompous when I say I think it's an important pop work." The group labored on the song cycle for over a year before releasing it in December 1968, preceded by the single "Private Sorrow" (backed with "Balloon Burning"). Reviews were almost unanimously glowing. New Musical Express wrote, "[The Pretty Things] have improved beyond all recognition and have produced an album which should rate as one of the best of 1968." Disc and Music Echo raved, "It doesn't sound like anything you've ever heard, the whole conception of the album is a mind-blower," and Beat Instrumental declared, "A very enterprising attempt by the Pretty Things at something new in pop music."


The group even planned to perform S.F. Sorrow in mime. "We'll use stereo tape backing tracks, with a backdrop and our own lights, with Twink miming the parts." Melody Maker reviewed a performance at the Roundhouse, musing, "It proved to be interesting and entertaining and gives the Pretty Things another dimension to their act." However, the group abandoned the idea after a couple of successful performances when it became apparent that the audience wanted live, not taped, music.


Things looked good for the band as 1969 began, and they continued to be a popular live draw. Melody Maker Features Editor Chris Welch declared, "As 1969 swings in, it is obvious that the Things have become one of the most important creative, playing groups on the club scene." May also expressed confidence in their latest project: "We've never enjoyed ourselves so much as we are now. I feel that we have got something to say and something to offer. We do all our own material. We kicked off our old image at last about four months ago and I think people are really impressed by us now. We all believe in what we are doing-we're all tuned in." In April, the group announced that they had signed a U.S. deal with the Rare Earth label (a Tamla Motown subsidiary) and that an American tour was in the works.


However, the Pretty Things' luck stayed true to form and by year's end things had begun to unravel. Rare Earth had delayed releasing S.F. Sorrow, so by the time it was out in the States, the Who's Tommy was already on the shelves. Ignorant of which came first-and of the fact that Pete Townshend had acknowledged the influence of the Pretty Things' rock opera on his own (which he later denied)-the U.S. music press was quick to dismiss Sorrow as a Tommy rip-off. Rolling Stone condemned the release, calling it "ultra-pretentious" and comparing it to "some grossly puerile cross between the Bee Gees, Tommy and the Moody Blues." May blamed the debacle on their U.S. record label. "The problem was with Tamla in the States. I called them a month before Tommy was due and asked them to get it moving but at that time they were pushing Rare Earth [the group] and everything else was a bad deal. It eventually appeared six weeks after Tommy and critics were saying things like 'a good pop record in the ilk of Tommy.' But we made it 12 months before Tommy appeared and when we pointed this out some of them apologized in print."


The failure of S.F. Sorrow to sell left May "sick and depressed." In the meantime, Twink had parted company with the group, recording a solo album before forming the Pink Fairies. The band replaced him on drums with the prodigal Skip Alan. Taylor also decided to throw in the towel, citing boredom as his main reason. He went into record production, working with Hawkwind among others, then dropped out of the music business for a while.


The Pretty Things recruited Victor Unitt from the Edgar Broughton Group as Taylor's replacement. Though disenchanted by the commercial failure of S.F. Sorrow, the band began work on a new album.


Parachute was released in June 1970. It embodied another crowning achievement for the group. The new songwriting alliance of Phil May and Wally Allen produced a flawless set of songs that ranged from the searing rocker "Miss Fay Regrets" to elegiac love ballads like "Grass," touching on superb vocal harmonies ("In the Square," "What's the Use"); bruising, heavy riffs ("Cries from the Midnight Circus"); and shimmering symphonic poetry ("Parachute").


By now, the group considered their past to be an albatross. "I have this terrible thought that people are going to expect 'Don't Bring Me Down' on stage. Six-year-old Pretty Things numbers, that kind of thing. It's a terrifying proposition," May told Disc and Music Echo. May even considered changing the group's name. "Originally people thought it would be a good idea if we changed our name . . . Maybe they were right, and if we had, it wouldn't have taken us such a long time to live down the past, but at the time I didn't think it was the correct course to take because it was like fooling the public."


Critically, Parachute was enthusiastically reviewed. New Musical Express called it "a most interesting album all through," while Record Mirror noticed its "often Beach Boy-like texture," writing, "The whole concept is clear and very attractive." Similarly, Disc and Music Echo chimed in with the comment, "Musically they sound very Beatley/Kinkish, with some lovely harmonies and that clever guitar sound." Rolling Stone named it their Album of the Year.


Praise alone was not enough to help Parachute emerge from the underground market. "The critical reception was a buzz. But you either sell or you don't. That's what it's all about, really. It's pointless making a good album if no one's going to hear it. You can't exist forever on critical acclaim," May explained afterward to writer Allan Jones. Further undermining the record's chance, their manager was involved in a near fatal car crash that left the band thrown into confusion and unable to capitalize on their critical stature.


In July, Victor Unitt returned to the Edgar Broughton Group and was replaced by Pete Tolson (b. September 10, 1951; Bishop's Stortford, Herts, U.K.), a teenage guitar whiz who'd previously played in Eire Apparent. Tolson's first single with the Pretty Things was "October 26" backed with "Cold Stone," which came out in November. Melody Maker's review predicted it would be "a huge hit," observing, "They have come up with some uncharacteristic vocal harmonies, almost of Beach Boys caliber." However, the single flopped, as did a three-track EP ("Stone Hearted Mama," "Summertime," "Circus Mind") released the following May. New Musical Express dubbed "Stone Hearted Mama" a "rocker with a bouncy beat, a catchy melody and a tingling jangle sound from the guitar backing." On a hopeful note, Record Mirror wrote that the EP was "more directly commercial than their last couple" and that they had "a good tight sound going."


At this point, the Pretty Things were in a state of disarray. When Wally Allen left to become an EMI house producer, the Pretty Things informally disbanded in June 1971. But, the Pretty Things' 1971 breakup proved temporary. They re-formed only five months later with a new bass player, Stuart Brooks, formerly of Black Cat Bones, and a new manager, Bill Shepherd, who promptly secured a record deal with Warner Brothers.


Breaking into the American market became the group's primary objective in the 1970s. Their Warner Brothers album, Freeway Madness (December 1972), set the stage. Rolling Stone said of it, "The great brilliance of Freeway Madness, a carefully conceived studio album, is its near perfect combination of seemingly disparate elements: neoclassic English white blues, alternating with a Crosby-Stills-Nash derived acoustic style wonderfully reworked in bracing off-harmonies."
Postscript

The Pretty Things toured the States in 1973, adding Gordon Edwards on keyboards and guitar, after which they were signed to Led Zeppelin's new label, Swan Song. They then replaced Brooks with Jack Green on bass and two albums followed-Silk Torpedo (1974) and Savage Eye (1976). Although these sold well, the Pretty Things' mainstream breakthrough never came. Amid immense turmoil, May walked out on the group in the summer of 1976, and the band was essentially finished.


In 1978, May met up with Waller again for one rather uneven album with the Fallen Angels. However, the Pretty Things refused to stay down. By late 1979, Taylor was again aboard, along with May, Povey, Wally Allen, Tolson and Skip Alan. They recorded 1980's Crosstalk (Warner Brothers), a strong, edgy album that sank without a trace due to poor marketing. The Pretty Things once again disappeared into the shadows.


May and Taylor continued working with various lineups throughout the 1980s and 1990s, playing R&B in clubs and bars and recording occasional one-off projects for indie labels. These included Live at Heartbreak Hotel (1984), Out of the Island (1988) and two albums as the Pretty Things/Yardbird Blues Band-The Chicago Blues Tapes (1991) and Wine, Women & Whiskey (1993)-recorded in Chicago with Yardbirds drummer Jim McCarty and various Chicago blues musicians.


Concurrent with these activities was an ongoing album project with producer/drummer/lawyer/manager Mark St. John, which was finally released in 1999 as Rage Before Beauty. St. John was also actively engaged on the band's behalf pursuing unpaid back royalties-a complicated process that culminated in 1995 with the group's securing possession and ownership of their entire back catalog.


This accomplishment galvanized the re-formation of the Pretty Things' 1967-68 lineup: May, Taylor, Povey, Wally Allen and Skip Alan. Along with new guitarist Frank Holland, they resurfaced in 1998 to perform S.F. Sorrow live over the Internet from Abbey Road studios. This landmark concert, which also included guest appearances from Dave Gilmour and Arthur Brown, was released on CD soon afterward as Resurrection. It was followed in March 1999 by a powerful and well-received new album, Rage Before Beauty, which the group supported with a tour of America in September 1999.


Currently, this amazingly durable group is still fully engaged and fanning the flames of controversy. Fittingly, their latest single, "All Light Up," made headlines after it was discovered that they had used the voices of schoolchildren to chant the song's pro-drug message. In more than 35 years, not a lot has changed for the Pretty Things.

01 - Midnight To Six Man (1982)
02 - Don't Bring Me Down (1982)
03 - Rosalyn (1982)
04 - Cries From The Midnight Circus (1987)
05 - Raining In My Heart (1987)
06 - Monster Club (1987)
07 - Intro (2004)
08 - SF Sorrow Is Born (2004)
09 - Red Baloon (2004)
10 - Don't Bring Me Down (2004)
11 - Midnight To Six Man (2004)
12 - Havana Bound (2004)
13 - Hoochie Coochie Man (2004)
14 - Rosalyn (2004)
15 - Mama, Keep Your Big Mouth Shut (2004)
16 - Goodbye, Goodbye... (2004)
17 - Goin' Downhill (2004)
18 - Come See Me (2004)
19 - £.S.D. (2004)
20 - Old Man Going (2004)
21 - Route 66 (2004)