Meditation about passion

Meditating Four - Meditácia nad vášňou [sample]
from compilation "Beatová horúčka 1965-70", 1989, Opus 90132113


original 1989 compilation LP sleeve

Let's have a look at one of the more obscure tracks from this already quite obscure music blog. The Meditating Four was a legendary Slovak beat and blues combo around 1967 and 1968. The group's master mind was the singer and guitarist Jozef "Barry" Barina. Earlier he also used to play with another Slovak beat legend, the surf-influenced Players.

Meditácia nad vášňou (Meditation About Passion) is not really a spectacular song. It's just another variation on the classic twelve bar blues, albeit with a little "twist". Still, Barina who was then only twenty years old plays some fine guitar licks and the drummer hits it hard and quite funky, making the song sound more like early progressive rock. That puts it relatively ahead of its time, at least in local dimensions. The song has been originally released on a Supraphon seven inch in 1969, the group's only record. But already in late 1968 they have actually disappeared from the scene. Barina revived the band for another tour in 1971 before he started to work in some Slovak studio orchestras. In the early 1980s he returned to playing the blues with B-Profil. He still ocassionally performs in Bratislava with various blues bands.

The vinyl compilation Beatová horúčka 1965-70 (Beat Fever) has been available on eBay recently. In the 1990s it has been reissued on CD too, but obviously it's already out of print. There are fourteen rare tracks from Slovak beat groups like the Players, Beatmen, Soulmen, Blues Five, Prúdy or Modus, among others. I will present the "killer" track from that album on Funky Czech-In in a couple of weeks, so stay tuned...

The blue song

Petr Spálený & Apollobeat - Modrá píseň (Finále) [sample]
from album "Zvon šílencův", 1971, Supraphon 0130918
produced by Jan Spálený


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Zvon šílencův (Madman's Bell), what an album title considering the maddening political events in Czechoslovakia almost three years earlier. I don't know what impact this record originally had but it was quite obviously meant as a statement. And despite the fact that the LP has been released in Supraphon's "Gramofonový klub" edition and therefore initially available to subscribers only, it has reached a gold status in Czechoslovakia.

The group started in 1965 as The Hippopotamuses a.k.a. The Hipp's [sic], merging beat, easy listening and soul. Some of them were Prague Conservatory students, led by the young composer, arranger and multi-instrumentalist Jan Spálený (1942). His younger brother Petr (1944), formerly a drummer with various local rock'n'roll groups, became the lead singer. In 1967 they were hired by Jiří Štaidl as the second house band of the famous Apollo theatre (the one in Prague, of course) while Štaidl's own orchestra was playing Las Vegas with superstar Karel Gott. The Hipp's then changed their name to Apollobeat. Petr - with his sexy barytone voice à la Lee Hazlewood - soon became a pop star on his own, releasing one hit after another. Besides of several popular cover versions like To vadí (Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da), most of the song material was written either by Jan Spálený or by the other multi-instrumentalist Pavel Krejča. Other long-time players were Vladimír Bár on organ, Eduard Parma jr. on bass, Miroslav Žižka on drums and Josef Švehla on trumpet. Krejča was on mellophone and electric mandolin and Jan Spálený played barytone sax, trombone, tuba or piano. That's right folks, no guitar, at least not between 1967 and 1973. That has certainly helped to create the group's individual sound just as much as Petr's voice and Jan's unique songwriting did.

Modrá píseň (Finále) (The Blue Song Finale) is the closing track from the album, a frantic soul-beat tune in the spirit of late sixties Italian movie soundtracks. Petr Fleischer's lyrics are quite obviously inspired by the blues, it's all about letting go and saying good bye. And the madman? The conceptual Zvon šílencův (Madman's Bell) suite - recorded in summer 1969 with the Václav Zahradník orchestra - fills up the whole side one. Progressive beat-jazz with rich orchestration. Side two from 1970 is dedicated to pet animals, including the jazzy and almost zappaesque instrumental Malá suita pro domácí zvířátka (A Small Suite For Little Domestic Animals). Jan Spálený wrote all the music. In the end, the album message is not as "heavy" as the title might imply. Actually the lyrics are more funny or good-hearted rather than political. That was most likely the intention however, otherwise there wouldn't have been any chance to bring the record to the public.

Petr Spálený's other vinyl long-players from the early years were two compilations of his hit singles, an English sung export compilation with the US spaceship Apollo on its cover (I mean, a US spaceship?! In the middle of the Cold War?!) and Czechoslovakia's first live pop album Petr v Lucerně (Petr In The Lucerna Hall), both from 1971. During the 1970s Petr Spálený with Krejča were inclined more and more toward country music which is already notacible on the 1975 concept double album Podoby (Resemblances). Jan Spálený left the group and worked behind the scenes as arranger and composer, besides of his busy day job as producer (or in the socialistic newspeak: "musical director") in the Supraphon recording studio Dejvice since 1970. And while Petr kept on fading into deep C&W obscurity (from our funky point of view, that is; his C&W albums are still very popular), Jan returned as a respected solo artist in the late seventies with two conceptual jazzrock-vs.-poetry albums, two excellent blues-rock-wave albums in the eighties and as the leader of the ASPM folk-blues collective.

Although there are plenty of Apollobeat/Spálený vinyls and CDs available, Zvon šílencův is without doubt the best album for you and me and therefore becoming quite rare. Even the 1996 CD reissue might be out of print. Some of their old single sides may be cheesier than others but that depends on your musical taste. Check out the official discography and a "singlography". Those 45s were mostly released with a Petr-Spálený-sleeve, however some were also labelled as "Apollobeat" but in fact there isn't any difference: the Supraphon label often made a big mess with SP sleeves (another bad example was the Golden Kids/Kubišová/Vondráčková/Neckář tohuwabohu). The responsible bureaucrats simply didn't care because they knew that people would buy them anyway, not judging a record by its cover... Oh yes, and don't forget to check out my web shop, I've got an LP and some 45s for sale: items no. 475, 837, 1072, 1262 (the b-side comes from Zvon šílencův!), 1263 (the first album) and 1268, as well as no. 839 and 840 from Jan S.

Let's go to play

Jazzový orchestr Československého rozhlasu (JOČR) - Pojďme si hrát [sample]
from album "Jubileum", 1980, Supraphon 11152730
arranged and conducted by Kamil Hála, produced by Svatopluk Rychlý, Vlastimil Hála & Antonín Matzner.


original LP sleeve

Funky Czech-In wouldn't be nearly as funky if I would ignore Czech jazz big bands. The Czech big band tradition dates back almost to the early days of jazz. Among the best post-war orchestras were those lead by Gustav Brom, Karel Vlach, Zdeněk Barták or Karel Krautgartner. Today I'll introduce you to the Czechoslovak Radio Orchestra, nowadays known as the Czech Radio Big Band, originally founded by Krautgartner in 1960. In 1963 the orchestra was sort of "split" into JOČR (Jazz Orchestra of the Czechoslovak Radio) and its alter ego TOČR (Dance Orchestra of the Czechoslovak Radio), both with identical personnel. When led by Josef Vobruba, then the "TOČR" label was mostly used while backing pop artists of all kinds, playing genres from foxtrot, easy listening or soul-beat of the sixties, to pop, disco and muzak of the seventies and eighties. As "JOČR" on the other hand the same orchestra continued to perform and record as an independent contemporary jazz big band, even going through a third stream period in the mid 1960s. Yet in this musically quite schizophrenic situation JOČR maintained to keep the high level of its work, mostly thanks to its longtime leader Kamil Hála. Hála, born 1931, was with the orchestra from the very beginning, originally as its pianist and from 1963 on as the bandleader and arranger of the orchestra's jazz repertoire. He also composed some of the crucial early tunes like Město v mlze (Foggy Town) or Portrét (Portrait). In 1971 he and his brother Vlastimil were one of the pioneers of progressive jazz/rock fusion when they melted JOČR with the legendary prog-rock group Blue Effect for the Nová syntéza (New Synthesis) album.

As its title hints, the album Jubileum (Jubilee) was issued to celebrate JOČR's (and in fact also TOČR's) twentieth anniversary, although the recording sessions already took place between 1978 and 1979. The producers were obviously planning ahead being aware of Supraphon's ultra-long manufacturing terms. It's by no means a "retro" album but luckily the staff also did fine without participating on the then popular disco-jazz vogue; after all they were recording enough of disco as TOČR already. Thus the album sounds more like coming from the pre-disco era which is certainly a good thing. Side one takes off with Hála's tight funk fusion Pouštím si draka (Flying My Kite), followed by three more or less conventional but swinging jazz tunes, the only cover being Desmond's Eleven Four. The birthday party continues on side two with another Hála composition, a cool latinesque blues jam in 6/4: Pojďme si hrát (Let's Go To Play). Five minutes of punchy horns, solid jazz-funk rhythm section, nice guitar, sax and trumpet solos and on top of the cake an explosive drums/conga duet. Other tracks worth mentioning in our context are the already quite known melancholic Kapka rosy (Dew Drop) and the joyous latin fusion A Go Go full of polyrhythmic drum'n'perc breaks (the same tune has been re-recorded as Agogo by Jazz Cellula for the Panton Mini Jazz Klub series one year later; Jazz Cellula was in fact JOČR minus the big band horn section at that time).

The line-up is very similar to most of the earlier 1970s JOČR/TOČR recordings. Besides of the other two original members, Milan Ulrich on tenor sax and Miroslav Koželuh on trombone, we're hearing the rhythm section Karel Růžička (p), Zdeněk Dvořák (g), Petr Kořínek (b) and Josef Vejvoda (dr). The other saxes were Miroslav Krýsl, Petr Král, Bedřich Kuník and František Kryka. On trumpets: Václav Král, Jiří Hlava, Jan Čapoun and Laco Déczi. More trombones were played by Josef Bažík Pavelka, Jiří Doubrava and Svatopluk Košvanec. And on percussion, you guessed it, there's the ubiquitous Jiří Tomek.

All JOČR vinyl albums are pretty scarce. But I've seen this one on eBay recently so keep on trying, search also for "kamil hala" or "karel krautgartner". A Kamil Hála CD has been released ten years ago, covering the JOČR period 1985-1995. The years 1960-1966 are documented on this Karel Krautgartner CD. Generally spoken however, it's quite a shame that the history of this important orchestra and its members is still rather poorly documented both on CDs and on internet; the official Czech Radio Big Band site is available in Czech language only. Anyway, I'll try to collect as much informations as I can for further JOČR/TOČR posts on this blog (and perhaps later for a Wikipedia entry).

The racer

Jiří Schelinger & Discobolos - Závodník [sample]
from 7 inch SP "Což takhle dát si špenát", 1977, Supraphon 1432082
conducted by Jiří Svoboda


original SP sleeve (front/back)

Jiří Schelinger (1951-1981), the first true Czechoslovak rock star, is my Mr. Rock, as I've said before. He played guitar and sang with various amateur beat and blues bands since the late sixties. In 1973 he had his first smash hit with the group Faraon: Holubí dům (The Pigeon House), one of the most popular Czech pop songs ever. Later that year he switched over to František "Ringo" Čech's group, formerly also known as the Shut Up Orchestra. Čech was just getting rid of his previous lead singer, the fading children idol Viktor Sodoma (ex-Matadors). At that time Čech was the undisputed king of Czech bubblegum music, but he was looking for an adequate voice for his upcoming hard rock project and Schelinger seemed to be the right guy. Nevertheless, they continued to record pop and schlager songs in order to "stay alive". After all it was the 1970s and rock music was obviously the enemy of the communist state number one. That transition period has been captured on Čech's debut album Báječní muži (Wonderful Men) in 1974. Čech was not only a humorous lyricist but also a clever and subversive manager: in order to smuggle at least some of his hard rock songs onto records he wrote lyrics which the censors almost must have let pass through. The most prominent example was Metro dobrý den (Hello Subway), a 1974 cover version of Black Sabbath's classic A National Acrobat. To fully understand the gag, be assured that only by admiring Black Sabbath you would have been certainly considered as much decadent (and anticommunist) as you could have possibly been then. But then the smart writer of the liner notes on Schelinger's "solo" album Nemám hlas jako zvon (I Don't Have A Voice Like A Bell) states: "Hello Subway is a celebration of a modern transport vehicle, a celebration of human labor and progress." Yeah. Now eat that, you communist bastards! (Prague's first subway line has been opened in 1974.) So in fact, around 1975 Schelinger & Čech were the only Czechoslovak hard rock group releasing at least some records, but they had to fight really hard for that privilege.

Schelinger was open-minded to other genres and worked occasionally with various studio orchestras. Those songs even appeared on television shows and in movie pictures. One example is the 1977 "soundtrack" single Což takhle dát si špenát (What Would You Say To Some Spinach) which was the theme song from a very popular sci-fi comedy movie of the same name. On the other hand, its clavinet laden funky flip side Závodník (The Racer), a story of a road-hog character, comes from a TV movie Přikázaný směr jízdy (Compulsory Direction). I could find any info on that one; it might have been a TV play or even a documentary, no one on the web seems to know nowadays. The songs were written by Karel Svoboda (yes, that one again) with Čech's lyrics. The backing group on both tracks was Discobolos (misspelled "Diskobolos" on the label), a studio project of the Svoboda brothers. As the band name indicates, it was an attempt to jump on the disco bandwagon and they definitely weren't doing all that bad. They also released two albums in 1978 and 1979, albeit without Schelinger's participation. I will feature them on Funky Czech-in soon. Among the Discobolos members were once more the Flamengo veterans Jan Kubík on sax and Vladimír Kulhánek on bass as well as Michal Pavlíček on guitar, Pavel Trnavský on drums, the exceptional singer Jana Kratochvílová and (of course) Jiří Tomek on congas.

Also in 1977, a miracle happened and Schelinger & Čech were finally allowed to release the first true Czechoslovak hard rock album, the highly sarcastic and partly even slightly funky Hrrr na ně (Harum-Scarum At Them). The semi-unplugged and more serious masterpiece Nám se líbí... (We Do Like...) was released in 1979 and by yet another miracle it has been even reissued in 1985, despite the presence of Oskar Petr who actually emigrated in 1979. Other original killer rock hits like Jahody mražený (Frozen Strawberries) or for Czech conditions the almost unbelievably heavy Lupič Willy (Willy The Burglar) appeared on singles and have been first reissued more than ten years later on the excellent 1990 LP/CD compilation Holubí dům (The Pigeon House).

In April 1981, while working on his planned album Zemětřesení (Earthquake), Schelinger was invited to a playback session in the Slovak TV studio in Bratislava. Later that night, under unclear circumstances he jumped from the Old Bridge into the Danube river. One month later his body was supposedly found about 20 km down the river, however it has never been officially identified by any member of the Schelinger family. His death still remains quite a mystery.

Being already a cult figure while alive, after his death the Schelinger cult grew even more. The positive effect is not only that all official recordings are well documented on CDs, but now there are even rarities compilations available. Here's the complete discography. And a fan page has a couple of low-fi live recordings available for download. For CDs check out cdmusic.cz. Some vinyl is of course available on Gemm and eBay, too. Last but not least I have a couple of 7" for sale, e.g. items no. 355 and 841 (and I'll add some more to my list soon).

P.S. I'm leaving Prague today with a lot of records in my suitcase. In fact, I might need a second suitcase... Anyway, I'll surely share some of them with you, so stay tuned!