TULLY

Tully were arguably Australia's first authentic progressive rock group, and this debut album an important landmark in the local development of the genre. They had a distinctive sound, eschewing guitar, with the lead taken by Michael Carlos's keyboards (piano and Hammond in particular, often double tracked) and Richard Lockwood's mastery of many wind instruments. (Yes, I know they're not the only band with that instrumental configuration - but they don't sound anything like Van Der Graaf Generator.) They drew strongly on modern jazz and psychedelic influences, they could get into serious freak out territory sometime, but they also displayed a delicate, pastoral side, in slower more atmospheric pieces with dominant flute and piano, and an unusual harmonic sense. The easiest comparisons are with Procul Harum (particularly when Carlos doubles Hammond and piano), and early King Crimson (particularly the pastoral side of that band, although they have their Schizoid Man moments too), but they don't sound like copyists of anyone. For me, the highlights of the album are generally the more pastoral moments ("La Nave Bleu", "The Sun Is Shining", "Love", "You Are The World", "The Paradise of Perfect Silence" despite the slightly cheesy recitation), or those pieces where Carlos really goes nuts on the Hammond ("Just About Time") - the closing piece, "Waltz To Understanding", falls into both categories, so is a particular favourite. Opening track "You Realise You Realise", with it's slow anthemic verse devolving into a rushing instrumental passage, is their creditable attempt at a Schizoid Man moment. I'm less impressed with the various pastiche songs on the album (one of the more annoying trends in the psychedelic era) - the Dixieland pastiches "Do You Ever Think Of Nothing" and "Sleepy Head Red", or the hymn-like "Love's White Dove" - or the pure freak out moments like "Phssst" or "Lace Space" - but I'm willing to forgive those because the rest of the album is so strong. I wish someone would release this on CD.

2014 Update: Someone (Chapter Music) has finally released this on CD. Jubilation! One criticism of the outcome - on the original vinyl, side 1 ended with Lockwood's recitation of "The Paradise of Perfect Silence", which was then followed by a perfect silence as the needle lifted from the record - leaving you to contemplate that silence for as long as you wished until you got up to turn the record over. On the CD, Lockwood has barely finished speaking when the drums roll in to begin "Sleepy Head Red" - I find it spoils the mood somewhat. The CD also includes a bonus track, an early recording of "Yesterday", recorded at a time when Tully wrote little original music, instead playing stretched-out and re-arranged covers of pop standards (something they would have begun doing during their collective previous tenure with Levi Smith's Clefs - that band's 1970 album Empty Monkey covered similar territory). It's an interesting historical inclusion.

Eclectic Prog from Australia?! Don't mind if I do! Despite the provided years for the performers here, I was confused and was convinced briefly that this, their 1970 debut, was in fact a compilation. What is immediately distinguishing Tully from the many is their use of reeds in the form of layers and layers of flute, clarinet and saxophone first heard on the epic early-Prog opener, "You Realize, You Realize". The reeds work continues strong here through vocal lines and booming percussion (psychedelic Ringo drag + jazz affectations?). Sort of calls to mind the later works of the first Mothers of Invention. I'm all about this. This is what I look for in early Prog. It's exciting and well-performed. We enter the bucolic in "La Nave Bleu", quieted acoustic guitar strumming met with flute and what I assume to be accordion (though, here, uncredited). Really lovely stuff. Melancholic, wanting, but beautiful.

We're into some melodrama on "Do You Ever Think of Nothing", and I'm not gonna lie, with the Wurlitzer (or uhhh... Leslie?) organ sound, my mind went to soap operas. Around minute 1, the track dips in full swing (truly swinging). Interesting Bri'ish-ish vocals--I mean something I'd expect from Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band--over organ and rolling, playful drums, and the absurdity ensues. This is starkly juxtaposed by "The Sun is Shining". We return to apparent melancholy on a low and slow rhythm, with piano accompaniment under flute lead. If anything, this was reminiscent to me of Procol Harum. It's sweet and balladic. The perfect apparently-post-Psychedelic lilt. Sincerely splendid.

With "Love's White Dove", I think we just got taken to church! Of course, church-ready organ and hymnic vocal styling aside, we have the image of a dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit in the gospels. As an apparent second verse comes in, so too does a fuller instrumentation with triumphant drumming. In its latter half, we are greeted with an assembly of choral voices. Lovely. I can't say no to this! haha. Solo piano starts off (and finishes out) our next track, "The Paradise of Perfect Silence", classically poised, again, much like Procol Harum, no? I think this is a pretty nicely constructed album, really [It was clear this early on, they really purposefully packaged these tracks]. Onto the next, we are back in Music Hall on "Sleepy Read Hed" (a nice little tongue-in-cheek misspelling, eh?). I'm a sucker for this sort of thing, since being a young fan of Paul McCartney's classic, if not schlocky, cabaret, Music Hall and Vaudeville devotions. I think this placement of this upbeat, classic feel makes the haunt and eeriness of the next, "Phssssst", all the more effective. Organ drones on... It's spacy, in the sort of way that you might ponder that space itself, in its emptiness and mystery, is actually quite frightening. This longwinded interlude then runs right into another optimistic song, but in very different feel: "Love". It's a fitful title. Organ rolls around and flute, too, swirls in a sort of uneasy manner, I suppose purposefully carefree, like that very love itself.

And then, we jam out on "Lace Space", a quirky, jazzy drum solo. Our drummer, Robert Taylor, is certainly one of the most talented musicians of the bunch. I've been quite impressed. Toward the end, there's some weird shimmerings of... something else going on. It's alien and bizarre. Well done. Especially for 1970! A surprise highlight for me. Up next, we return suddenly to quietness on "You Are the World". I thought it might be yet another solo instrument (here, piano) track, but around minute 1, we get more and more. Drums roll about, as he do, and flute comes in. Then we get some lovely vocals. I'm living for this one. Genuinely, a well constructed album made by pure, honest Procol Harum devotees (at least, I don't know what else it would be). This runs perfectly into "Just About Time", a fun Psychedelic number that feels like a different kind of callback. It's playful and youthful. I don't "know what [he] mean[s]", but I feel I want to. This is fantastic Proto-Prog.

Onto the final track, it's "Waltz to Understanding", starting with solo single-note organ. It slowly builds into chords and it feels like we're back in church. I feel this should appeal to fans of The Nice. That classical, post-Psych thing drawn out for longer than 6 minutes. Not a huge fan of this one for an album closer, but then... The version I'm listening to ends with "Yesterday", which I wasn't sure was but was then revealed to be a cover of the classic Beatles tune. It just took a bit of time to get to that point [the vocals, that is]. This is clearly moreso demo material, being a bit lo-fi. I certainly don't need this version to exist, but here we are haha.

True Rate [barely rounded up from] 3.5/5.0

It's good Proto-Prog, really. And definitely, definitely for fans of Procol Harum. What? Did I mention them 3 or 4 times here or something?...