David Fricke’s Reissue Picks: Terry Reid, Clear Light
These archival releases – two of the best single-disc retrospectives issued this year so far – honor records I’ve known and loved since their original release. One is an overdue, expanded return to print; the other is an entirely new view of what might have been, via what got left behind. Both are recommended without reservation.
Terry Reid, The Other Side of the River (Light in the Attic/Future Days Recordings)
In the mid- and late Sixties, Terry Reid was British rock’s Great White Vocal Wonder, a precociously soulful teenager with ragged-fire pitch and sustain who was repeatedly ready for stardom – opening U.S. tours for Cream and the Rolling Stones in 1968 and ’69 respectively – but ultimately had to settle for cult-ish legend. Reid was not yet 19 when he made an especially fateful choice: turning down an offer in 1968 from former Yardbirds guitarist Jimmy Page to sing in his new band, Led Zeppelin. Because he was already booked for those Cream dates. Reid generously suggested that Page look into a young unknown named Robert Plant. A year later, Reid passed on an invitation to join Deep Purple, citing contractual obligations; that job that went to Ian Gillan.
By 1971, Reid was free of those ties and beginning what would be two years’ work in London and Miami with Yes engineer Eddie Offord. The result, 1973’s River, released with great promotional fanfare by Atlantic, was a quietly gripping surprise: a mix of funky R&B and progressive-folk reflections across samba-inflected rhythms, a long, matured distance from Reid’s earlier, frantic power-blues records. The backing band was spare but stellar, including drummer Alan White (on his way to Yes), percussionist Willie Bobo and guitarist David Lindley, once of the American band Kaleidoscope, then beginning his long association with Jackson Browne. River was masterful seduction, especially over the meditative haze of Side Two. But it did not sell. Reid kept recording fitfully – 1976’s Seeds of Memory was produced by an old friend, Graham Nash – and he still performs today. But Reid never came this close to breakthrough again.
River‘s expensive, exploratory gestation was not reflected on the 1973 LP; it had only seven songs, totaling 36 minutes. The Other Side of the River nearly triples the story with an hour of alternate takes – a live-in-the-studio pass at “River” is even slower grace – and abandoned songs that, in some cases, are as good as those that made the grade. “Listen With Eyes” would have been a sublime addition to the dream state on Side Two. “Let’s Go Down” is a robust blues-rock opener that sounds like it was recorded for the first Black Crowes album, two decades ahead of schedule. That band’s founding singer, Chris Robinson, has always had a lot more Reid than Rod Stewart rattling around in his throat.
The Other Side of the River is not a replacement for its parent. The original is still the best album Reid has ever made. But this is how he got there. It is a trip worth taking with him.