Two albums and four years into their existence and with their music already labelled by some as ‘what The Beatles might have done if they hadn’t split up’, in 1973 cheeky Bristol prog types Stackridge found themselves in a studio with their production hero George Martin. But were they about to lose their heads for The Man In Bowler Hat?
Rising from the ashes of the Goon Show-inspired Griptight Thynne and morphing from Stackridge Lemon to just Stackridge, by 1973 the knockabout Bristol pop-proggers had racked up some serious milestones in four years of existence.
Initially comprised of Andrew Cresswell-Davis (sometimes credited as Andy Davis) on guitar, keyboards and vocals; James Warren on guitar and vocals; James ‘Crun’ Walter on bass (Crun was also a Goons name); Michael ‘Mutter’ Slater on flute and vocals; Mike Evans on violin; and Billy ‘Sparkle’ Bent on drums, the bandmembers had met in the clubs and bars of Bristol such as Acker Bilk’s Old Granary and The Dug Out. The players’ chemistry went from performing pop and blues covers to original songs infused with a Bonzo Dog Band playfulness and eclecticism, taking in classical music, tea dance and music hall, rock, pop, folk and anything else that took their fancy culturally, created with humour and heart. They soon positioned themselves as a slapstick alternative to the popular rock du jour.
“We drew from every imaginable source,” James Warren tells Prog in a phone interview. “It was a weird mixture of Beatles, Frank Zappa and The Incredible String Band, and a healthy dose of musical theatre and humour.”
“We were determined to not be denim-clad like Free, Status Quo or Black Sabbath,” Mutter Slater tells us. “We wore waistcoats, grey flannels and braces. James wore slippers.”
Stackridge opened and closed the first Glastonbury Festival in 1970, recorded two well-received albums on MCA (1971’s Stackridge and 1972’s Friendliness), toured with Wishbone Ash and Renaissance, appeared on The Old Grey Whistle Test, and recorded a Radio 1 session for John Peel. After playing more than 300 shows, they’d garnered a battalion of enthusiastic and rather nutty fans, known for bringing props to gigs to join in with numbers that required participation such as Marzo Plod with its rhubarbthrashing, or dustbin lids for Four Poster Bed (Let There Be Lids).
Following the Cockney-Edwardiana dancecraze single Do The Stanley, a February to March UK tour saw them supported by Camel, and their next big achievement was just over the hump. As avid Beatles and Goon Show fans, it was almost all too much for the fluctuating five-, six- or seven-piece: the recording of album number three, The Man In The Bowler Hat, would be with The
