What made Vanilla Fudge so intriguing was how they and producer Shadow Morton mutated hit songs by stretching the tempo to slow motion so exquisite that even an overexposed song by the Supremes sounded new on the radio. The formula worked fine on covers, but despite their collective talent, the material they composed on Renaissance feels more like psychedelic meeting progressive and has less of that commercial magic. Renaissance is a concept album, produced and directed by Shadow Morton, the man who brought you the Shangri-Las and who produced the second album for the New York Dolls.
Vanilla Fudge took a more basic stance with Rock 'n' Roll, bringing in Aerosmith's first and the Velvet Underground's last producer, Adrian Barber, to replace Shadow Morton. Guitarist Vinnie Martell sings lead on "Need Love," and it is a quagmire of rock sounds, offset by Mark Stein's "Lord in the Country." The band then goes after a good but non-hit Carole King/Gerry Goffin number, "I Can't Make It Alone." It has that vibe that made "Take Me for a Little While" so important and so timeless, but there's just something missing. This is Vanilla Fudge's trademark sound looking for a new personality. The band started in 1967 by releasing an album of seven cover tunes done Vanilla Fudge-style. Along with Cream, Jimi Hendrix, and a handful of other bands, their sound helped shape Top 40 radio in the '60s while heavily influencing Deep Purple and what that group would do for the '70s.
Mastered from the Original Master Tapes and Limited to 2,000 Numbered Copies: Sonically Superb Hybrid SACD Presents the Record in True-to-the-Original Mono.
Long considered one of the legendary lost bands of hard rock and a pioneer in (or influence on, depending on who you ask) progressive rock, Vanilla Fudge is probably best known for their complete reworkings of more mainstream songs into progressive rock explosions of killer musicianship and arranging…
In a debut consisting of covers, nobody could accuse Vanilla Fudge of bad taste in their repertoire; with stoned-out, slowed-down versions of such then-recent classics as "Ticket to Ride," "Eleanor Rigby," and "People Get Ready," they were setting the bar rather high for themselves. Even the one suspect choice – Sonny Bono's "Bang Bang" – turns out to be rivaled only by Mott the Hoople's version of "Laugh at Me" in putting Bono's songwriting in the kindest possible light. Most of the tracks here share the common structure of a disjointed warm-up jam, a Hammond-heavy dirge of harmonized vocals at the center, and a final flat-out jam. Still, some succeed better than others: "You Keep Me Hanging On" has a wonderfully hammered-out drum part, and "She's Not There" boasts some truly groovy organ jams. While the pattern can sound repetitive today, each song still works as a time capsule of American psychedelia.
VANILLA FUDGE celebrate their 50th anniversary with another musical rock monument - ''Live At Sweden Rock 2016!'' What began in April 1967 in the Ultrasonic Studios in Hempstead/ N.Y., still possesses the same charisma a good 50 years later in a rather quiet Swedish town of Norje near Sölvesborg in front of more than 35,000 enthusiastic fans. Heavy psychedelic, slightly progressive rock, blended with classic citations and elements. With temporal and musically excessive cover versions which the band left their distinctive mark on (a heavy blues soaked steady rhythm) VANILLA FUDGE not only entered the international charts at that time. Their versions of the Tamla Motown classic ''You Keep Me Hangin' On'' (Supremes) or Junior Walker's ''Shotgun'' as well as the FUDGE's version of McCartney's ''Eleanor Rigby'' electrified a whole generation of musicians and fans alike.
Although marketed as a surf band, Minnesota's Trashmen were decidedly landlocked by geography, but not by spirit. The group's odd mix of surf, R&B, sneering garage pop, and psychotic instrumentals made them one of the most eccentric and interesting of the groups that sprang up around the surf craze of the early '60s. This delightful collection of rare live tracks shows the kind of offhand, humorous dementia that they channeled into their shows, climaxing in a near six-minute version of their wacky masterpiece, the manic "Surfin' Bird."