Mandela's Way

On their debut album Canis Lupus, Darryl Way's Wolf included both instrumentals and vocal numbers, with bassist Dek Messecar taking on the latter duties. The album garnered critical acclaim, and in its wake the quartet embarked on a successful British tour. On-stage, however, Messecar found it difficult to combine vocals with his intricate bass playing, thus the band's sophomore set, Saturation Point, was comprised almost exclusively of instrumentals. It was a grand album, but also failed to chart, and Way became convinced that the lack of frontman was holding them back from success. Former If vocalist John Hodkinson was recruited to amend this flaw, and the new-look Wolf began work on Night Music, their third and final album…

After two successful years and three seminal albums, violinist Darryl Way departed Curved Air in search of a tougher, heavier sound. Gathering a trio of little known musicians around him - future Soft Machine guitarist John Etheridge, vocalist/bassist and future Caravan member Dek Messecar, and future Trace and Marillion drummer Ian Mosley, Darryl Way swiftly inked a deal with Decca's Deram imprint.
The band's debut, Canis Lupus, was produced by King Crimson's Ian McDonald, who also provided his own piano skills to "Chanson Sans Paroles," one of a clutch of stellar instrumentals on the set. Here the band create a series of shifting moods, incorporating classical, rock, and jazz elements into the piece…

It is exactly what it says on the package, a full-fledged concerto that bucks every prevalent musical fashion (1978 was the age of punk, after all) by proving that prog wasn't only alive and well, it was also still capable of startling the unwary listener. With fellow Curved Air refugee Francis Monkman overseeing the orchestra, Way's electric violin has never sounded so adventurous, leading the way through four skillfully planned movements that the composer admits were influenced by Ravel, Bartók, and Prokofiev, but which have a personality all of their own. Certainly Way's Concerto withstands comparison with any other rocker's attempt to blend the classics with more modern disciplines (Keith Emerson's piano concerto was released the previous year), and it was poor promotion alone that prevented Concerto for Electric Violin & Synth from making heavier inroads into the period's consciousness.

The Way We Live wasn't a terribly commercial or compelling name for a rock band, and Tractor is a yet more awkward and less appealing moniker. Yet, for some reason, that's what the Way We Live changed their name to between the 1971 A Candle for Judith album (which turned out to be the only the Way We Live LP) and their 1972 follow-up, Tractor. Both albums are combined onto one CD on this 1994 reissue by See For Miles. A Candle for Judith was uneven, second-division, early-'70s British hippie rock, divided between lumpy, bluesy hard rock and far folkier, pastoral, acoustic-flavored musings. The folk-rockier stuff is better than the harder-rocking stuff, with "Squares" strongly recalling the folkiest, most acoustic outings of the early Pink Floyd.

The band's second album, released a few scant months after their debut, found Darryl Way and co. still edging away from the Curved Air ideal, without doing anything to truly alienate that band's loyal followers. Indeed, there were moments throughout Wolf's career when they sounded more like the original Air than that band's current incarnation ever could. Of course it's the mad violin that best confirms the similarities, but one can only dream of how dramatic this band could have been had they only reached a wider audience. Listening to Saturation Point is like walking a tightrope, a taut, nerve-bending ride that takes you from the eccentric peaks of "The Ache" and "Two Sisters" (combined, one of the greatest album overtures of the year), to the boleric attack of "Toy Symphony," a cut that raises the specters of Caravan and ELP, even as it shakes off comparisons with anything else…

The first time Dandelion label head John Peel heard the Way We Live, courtesy of a demo tape they mailed him, he thought someone was playing a trick on him - some accomplished superstar band, perhaps. Only when he actually met the duo did he discover that they really were as good as their demo insisted, and A Candle for Judith - itself comprising exactly the same songs as that original tape - allows the listener to share in Peel's amazement. Eight tracks find the band drifting across the musical spectrum, sometimes heavy (the opening "King Dick II" sounds almost Sabbath-like), sometimes folky, but never less than fascinating. Comparisons to Pink Floyd, one of the few bands to exercise similar disparate energies over the course of one album, are misleading, however. Although the closing "The Way Ahead" could be allied with certain passages in "Echoes," there is no space rock, or distorted blues in sight here, just a series of ambitiously complex and supremely melodic numbers that marked The Way We Live (the name under which the LP was originally issued) as one of the most remarkable bands of the early-'70s era.