Mercy Mercy Mercy

Marie Rottrová & Flamingo – Nechci (Mercy Mercy Mercy) [sample]
from album “Marie Rottrová”, 1972, Supraphon 1131268
arranged by Rudolf Březina, produced by František Řebíček
Marie Rottrová & Flamingo – I’ve Had Enough (Mercy Mercy Mercy) [sample]
from album “Rhythm & Romance”, 1977, Supraphon/Artia 1132303
arranged by Rudolf Březina, produced by Miloš Zapletal


original 1972 and 1977 LP covers

It’s been quite a long time since my last article, dear reader, so welcome back. This post is actually sort of a reader request: Magda, the charming young owner of the cute Happy Feet Records store in Prague asked for these tracks, so here we go…

Mercy Mercy Mercy was not only one of the biggest hits for Cannonball Adderley, but also one of Joe Zawinul’s – Adderley’s keyboarder then – “signature” compositions. Besides of being one of the most popular and instantly recognizable jazz hits of all times anyway. The 1966 original was an instrumental tune, but due to its soul-jazz feeling it’s been actually predestined for release as a vocal number. Of course, Marie Rottrová wasn’t by far the first one to sing it. Nancy Wilson probably had one of the first versions on her 1967 album Just For Now with lyrics by Gail & Vincent Levy – a slow and super cool rendition, by the way, worth to check out on its own! Marlena Shaw and Madeline Bell sang it, too. Even the Everly Brothers, the Creation or the Buckinghams did. And Eddie Jefferson vocalized it in his very special own way on Body And Soul in 1968. (See allmusic.com for a long list…)

However, Flamingo’s saxman Rudolf Březina re-arranged Mercy Mercy Mercy to a hot cooking uptempo pop-soul number, driven by Jiří Urbánek’s funky bass line, while Pavel Vrba wrote the original Czech lyrics Nechci (I Don’t Want). The tune first appeared on Rottrová’s “solo” album in 1972 – which has been introduced on Funky Czech-In almost two years ago, so please refer to that article for more details.

For Flamingo’s second export album Rhythm & Romance in 1977, the original instrumental basic track has been slightly remixed and new English vocals were overdubbed; both enhancements were not necessarily for better, if you ask me, but there they are. The words of I’ve Had Enough roughly follow Vrba’s Czech original. They were penned by Joy Turner, possibly the only Czechoslovakia-based pop lyricist in the 1970s who was officially allowed to write in English, albeit usually only for the Supraphon/Artia export albums.

Neither version has been reissued on CD yet, so czech out your usual vinyl sources. Rhythm & Romance never even officially retailed in Czechoslovakia, thus you will rather likely find a copy of the LP in Germany, Poland, Hungary or Russia. (I got mine from Poland, if I remember correctly.) It’s sort of a “Best of Rottrová 1972–1976” album: except for two chansons in Czech, it contains English versions of her popular tunes, including the funky classic Ring Of Light (Kruh světla), Urbánek’s pre-acid-jazz masterpiece Time Is A Rogue (Modré oči mládí), or the complete vocal version of Quasimodo’s Dream (originally split into parts 1 & 2 on the Plameňáci 75 album). There are also unique cover versions of Nutbush City Limits and I’m On Fire, which are different recordings than the better known 7" versions with Czech lyrics, Pan Muž and Expres Mléčné dráhy respectively.

P.S. Apropos Czech vinyl sources: I have a couple of the Rottrová pop/chanson singles for sale right now, including some ballads known from the Rhythm & Romance LP, as well as the super funky album Flamingo/Plameňáci 75 in excellent condition! Please visit shop.loukash.com.

P.P.S. Stay tuned to this blog, there will likely be very exciting news later this year! We’re working pretty hard on “some thing”…

---

The best disco in town

Bezinky & Pražské smyčce – Žiješ v éře diskoték (The Best Disco In Town) [sample]
from compilation “Disco klub”, 1978, Panton 110717
conducted by Jiří Hrábek


original compilation cover

What was valid thirty years ago still seems to be valid today – we’re living in a disco era. And this week I have the pleasure to present you literally the best disco in town:

Saturday, June 7, 23:00 h
Kuppel Basel
Czech Oldies Party with DJ Lou Kash

The opportunity for this event should be pretty obvious. So… if you (unlike me) are interested in this, the chances are that you might find yourself in Basel this Saturday. And since you already are reading this blog, it’s very likely that you will then appreciate our little party, too.
See you in the Kuppel!

---

Shotgun

The Matadors – Shotgun [sample]
from album “The Matadors”, 1968, Supraphon 0130493/1130493 (mono/stereo), Supraphon/Artia SUA13992/SUAST53992 (mono/stereo), reissued 1995 on CD Bonton 710244-2
produced by Jaromír Tůma


original LP sleeve, export reissue sleeve

Between 1966 and 1968 the Matadors belonged to the best beat groups in Czechoslovakia. At that time their enormous popularity might have been threatened only by the equally experienced “veterans” Olympic. (By comparing the former with the latter, think e.g. the never ending “Stones vs. Beatles” dispute…) So it was no coincidence that the Matadors were the second rock band after Olympic to have a full long player recorded and released by Supraphon in 1968. And it’s no coincidence either that their only album still belongs to the most sought-after items from former Czechoslovakia among vinyl collectors worldwide, being an undisputed classic of the so called freak-beat or psych-beat genre.

The band was mainly influenced by british R&B acts like Them, Pretty Things, Yardbirds, John Mayall’s Heartbreakers Bluesbreakers or even the Kinks and the Who. But like many other Czech groups around 1967 and 1968, also the Matadors couldn’t resist the infectious grooves from the omnipresent soul craze all over the world. Moreover since they were frequently playing abroad, particularly doing a Switzerland night club tour through the winter 1967/1968, where they were often asked to play popular dance tracks from the charts.

In this context it’s not surprising that the album song Shotgun nicely fits into this blog’s scope. Unlike Junior Walker’s proto-funk original however, the Matadors’ version speeds up the tempo quite a bit and adds a trace of a Hendrix-like rock feeling due to heavy use of wah-wah guitar; lead guitarist Radim Hladík (1946) was the Czechoslovak pioneer in using the wah-wah pedal to such an extent, that he supposedly even invented the now commonly used Czech word for that device: kvákadlo. And also lead singer Viktor Sodoma (1945) must have been in a good shape on this recording date. His English phrasing is precise and he doesn’t shout as “over-the-top” as on some other Matadors tracks.

The overall production quality of the whole album is rather bad though. The “old school” Supraphon recording engineers of the 1960s didn’t have a clue how to put this kind of music to tape, not to speak of the poor vinyl mastering. Especially Otto Bezloja’s (1945–2001) bass guitar and Tony Black’s (1946) drums suffer from the thin sound. And if there ever was Jan “Farmer” Obermeyer’s (1944) Matador organ on this very track, it’s nowhere to be heard now. (To illustrate these issues, one of the popular anecdotes is, that on an earlier recoding date an engineer supposedly thought that Hladík’s amplifier was broken after he switched on his overdrive pedal for the first time…)

The full Matadors story has been excellently documented in Aleš Opekar’s authorized biography book The Matadors – Beatová aristokracie z Prahy (Oftis 2007, ISBN 978-80-86845-91-3). While the book is written in Czech language only, it contains not only lots of photos and commonly understandable biographical data, but also a bonus CD with previously unreleased live recordings from 1966! (Hey, remember my interlude from last October…?) So if you are a serious collector of Czechoslovak oldies, this book belongs to your collection even if you don’t understand a word Czech. But as I’ve already noted last year, don’t expect any hi-fi quality – it is a historical document.

Speaking of the Matadors story: last year in June I’ve coincidentally discovered that the English Wikipedia already has an article about The Matadors. Originally it was so full of errors then that I’ve decided to clean it up as well as to add some less known facts about the band. At that time I’ve already read Aleš’s nearly completed manuscript, so my informations were first hand. Hence I won’t repeat what I’ve already put together in a more or less serious form elsewhere (although the Wikipedia article isn’t complete yet). But for regular readers of Funky Czech-In it will be of interest when I point out the connections between other Czech groups and artists previously posted here, like Flamengo, Vladimír Mišík or Komety.

The Matadors album has been reissued in 1995 on CD, which also contains all tracks but one released on seven inches and Supraphon samplers between 1966 and 1968. It’s out of print but it still pops up for sale here and there on the web. There’s also a Korean CD reissue available, but as I’ve been told by Jan Obermayer recently, it’s quite likely a bootleg, as are most of the other releases on various low budget samplers in the past 10–15 years all over the world. Still, some Matadors tracks appeared every now and then on some of the protagonists’ official Best Of compilations, like Sodoma’s or Mišík’s.

The export version of the vinyl LP was pressed by Supraphon/Artia way into the late 1970s, so it should be still around in quite sufficient quantity. In other words: don’t believe a record dealer who wants to sell you an overpriced Matadors copy in the black export sleeve, praising it as the “original pressing”. They are not! That applies also to the old Czech reissues in a half-generic Supraphon sleeve with overprinted text. The true rarity is solely the original Czech issue with the colored logotype – particularly the stereo edition – provided it’s in top condition. Because being likely a popular record to be played at way too many wild parties then, most are probably not in the best shape these days anymore. Anyway, don’t get fooled. ;)

There are chances that an official reissue of the complete Matadors recordings will be available within the next few years (to express it rather pessimistically) relatively soon. In any case you will find out about it here first. Simply stay tuned to the RSS feed.


Ex-Matadors Vladimír Mišík, Jan F. Obermayer and Radim Hladík with Lou Kash at the backstage of the Lucerna Music Bar, March 31, 2008, right after one of their annual reunion gigs. (photo: Aleš Opekar)

---

Brom: If all deuces got married

Gustav Brom Orchestra – I kdyby se všichni čerti ženili [sample]
from a 7 inch, 1961, Supraphon 013421


an original Supraphon generic 7" sleeve, label

Of course, it’s been looong overdue to introduce you to bandleader Gustav Brom (1921–1995) and his orchestra, but I’ve been holding off of posting until my Brom record collection becomes a bit wider. Now that I have gathered nearly twenty Brom Orchestra albums from 1960 until 1982, lots of tracks on singles, EPs and compilations as well as numerous songs with Brom backing popular singers, there’s plenty of representative material to choose from. Because unlike most of my previous articles on Funky Czech-In, in this very case I’d like to proceed more chronologically and encyclopedically. My goal is to cover Brom’s most attractive period (according to the definition of this blog, that is) spanning from the mid 1960s until the early 1980s in several articles over this year.

Gustav Brom wasn’t very conservative when it came to musical genres and styles. Ever since he founded his own band in 1940 until his death in 1995, the repertoire spanned from big band swing, dixieland, bebop, third stream, latin jazz or exotica over easy listening pop, schlager and brass music to soul-jazz, jazz-rock, jazz funk, disco etc. Generally, on the plus side it means that the orchestra has been as versatile as it only could be. But in particular, for a nowadays record collector the drawback of this concept surely is, that not all of the Gustav Brom releases are worth grabbing, of course. I for one am not a particular lover of genres like brass music or dixieland, and the orchestra’s pure swing albums from the 1970s and later are not necessarily on my radar either.

In order to tune into the series, let’s begin with one of the scarce recordings where you can actually hear Mr. Brom singing personally. I kdyby se všichni čerti ženili (Even If All Deuces Got Married) is a lovely little novelty calypso composed by Saša Grossman with lyrics by Zdeněk Borovec. The Czech title as well as the lyrics is a word play with an old Czech expression which you can freely translate as “even if it would rain and storm like hell”. The musicians on this recordings probably were František Navrátil, Zdeněk Novák, Bronislav Horák, Josef Audes, Lubomír Řezanina, Jaromír Hnilička, Alfa Šmíd, Stanislav Veselý, Oldřich Blaha, Milan Řežábek and Václav Skála.

---

My hobbyhorse

Pražský výběr – Můj koníček [sample]
from album “Pražský výběr” a.k.a. “Straka v hrsti”, 1988, Panton 810826-1311
recorded in 1982, produced by Josef Novotný


1988 issue LP sleeve (front/back)

I was thinking about a Czech song which has personally influenced me the most in the past. But already the criteria definition – what’s an influence – isn’t a clear task. As a child in the mid seventies I was a big fan of Banjo Band Ivana Mládka (Ivan Mládek’s Banjo Band) whose funny yet clever lyrics appealed both to my contemporaries as well as to the adults. Listening to Mládek’s pseudo-dixieland definitely inspired me to pick up a guitar – a banjo was too expensive – and to write my own songs when I was about twelve. Then as a teenager in the early eighties I’ve discovered the bluesy folk of Vladimír Mišík and Vlasta Třešňák. You know, technically I’m a horrible “singer”, thus their rather non-melodic vocal style fitted me quite well while I was trying hard to become one of their epigones, paraphrasing Třešňák’s songwriting and imitating Mišík’s singing. But the true revolution arrived in 1983 or 1984 during one of our visits in Prague when my half-brother’s uncle (himself an excellent blues guitarist) gave us a cassette copy of the hippest new wave band that ever appeared on Czech stages of the early 1980s: Pražský výběr.

Michael Kocáb (1954) founded Pražský výběr (The Prague Selection – a reference to a cheap Czech wine brand) in 1976 as an offshoot of his schoolmate Milan Svoboda’s Pražský big band (Prague Big Band). In the beginning they were just a young jazz rock combo of conservatory students who played instrumental and at times very complex tracks. I will cover that period in a future post later this year. While the group never officially disbanded at the end of the decade, eventually the jazz musicians around Kocáb went their own ways. Around 1980 he teamed up with ex-Bohemia guitarist Michal Pavlíček and drummer Jiří Hrubeš, who were already a steady duo on their own, be it as members of the explosive jazz rock combo Expanze (undocumented on records) or backing Jana Koubková under her Horký dech (Hot Breath) moniker. And the trio Kocáb/Pavlíček/Hrubeš already worked together when they recorded Petr Klapka’s second Mahagon album in 1979. Although Pavlíček intended to play new wave instead of the fading jazz rock, they decided to reuse the Pražský výběr trademark, likely because the group still officially existed for the bureaucratic communist authorities. At first they performed as a quintet with bass player Ondřej Soukup – who would soon switch to the more lucrative Karel Gott Orchestra – and with the formerly ubiquitous percussionist Jiří Tomek, acting here as a singer and dancer. In 1981 Tomek left as well; obviously he used to have quite an alcohol problem, as I have been told recently by a musician who used to play with him quite often in the seventies. Kocáb & co. then persuaded the bass player from the popular underground punk-jazz outfit Zikkurat to join them, Vilém Čok.

As Kocáb once put it: “It can be hard to play new wave when you actually know how to play.” But the blend of complex jazzy synthesizer lines with a straight 4/4 beat, repetitive bass riffs, a virtuosic guitar floating above it all, as well as highly ironical lyrics (written mostly by František Ringo Čech), that all created a unique and instantly recognizable sound never heard before, at least not in the Middle and Eastern Europe. Crossbreed the late Frank Zappa with Talking Heads and you might get something like Pražský výběr.

In 1982 Pražský výběr recorded their new wave album, some tracks also appeared in Juraj Herz’ avant-gardist movie Straka v hrsti (A Magpie In The Hand). But before the record was ready for a release in 1983, both the movie and the group were banned by the authorities and the musicians were prohibited from performing in the public for nearly two years. The album was withdrawn and destroyed before even reaching the shelves. However, it didn’t take very long and someone managed to smuggle a copy of the master tape out of the recording studio archives, giving a couple of cassette copies to friends who themselves made copies and gave them to their friends and so on, quickly making Pražský výběr the best known rock group in the country. In the meantime, being professional musicians, all members tried to make living by working on their former side projects or playing as backing musicians. Pavlíček, for example, after two years of depression he became very successful with his pop-jazz-rock-wave crossover project Stromboli. Hrubeš on the other hand couldn’t stand the pressure and eventually emigrated in 1985. But in the end the ban caused exactly the opposite effect than intended: along with a couple of other banned groups, Pražský výběr and its protagonists, although inactive from 1983 until 1985, they had more influence on rock and new wave fans and musicians than ever before. By 1985 the independent music scene in Czechoslovakia flourished and the authorities began to lose control over it. (Check out the underground movie Hudba 85 (Music 85) by Lexa Guha, Vladislav Burda and Petr Ryba, recently released on DVD for the first time!)

In 1986 the band was allowed to return on stage with a new drummer as Výběr. They recorded quite a solid self-titled rock album in 1987 and one year later also the original Straka v hrsti album finally found its way onto the vinyl grooves and to the audience. The times were “a-changing” and even the sleeve cartoon contained an unbelievably straight and sarcastic political joke. Výběr continued with a successful career for a couple of years to come and it still sort of exists to the present day, although both main actors obviously split up in a heavy wrangle recently.

Můj koníček (My Hobbyhorse), also known as Krysy (The Rats), was always my favorite track from Pražský výběr’s clandestine tape (and later from the album). Cool, funky and minimalist, with Pavlíček’s sparse guitar effects illustrating an apparent non-sense story of a guy whose hobby is to watch mice and rats snooping around his basement. Every single sound has its place. A song near perfection.

~

Around 1986 – in times when Pražský výběr was still banned in Czechoslovakia – we used to play a cover version of this tune with our Swiss group Ugly Bluz. We tried another approach regarding the arrangement though, mapping the rhythm guitar to our three-piece horn section and giving the song more of a free-funk touch; at that time we were heavily inspired by groups like Defunkt, Slickaphonics, the early and still unknown Red Hot Chili Peppers or by James Blood Ulmer. This unreleased recording was made in summer 1987 by our friend Hannes Lange, shortly before our band broke up. (If you’re fluent in German language, perhaps you may want to check out the complete story of Ugly Bluz for more details.)

---

Emporium of the world

Karel Černoch – Tržnice světa [sample]
from album “Letiště”, 1975, Panton 110506


original album sleeve (front/back, © Petr Sís)

Quite a lot of Czech musicians passed away this year. Among others: the drummers Jan Antonín Pacák (1941) and Anatolij Kohout (1946), the composer Karel Svoboda (1938) the bass player Pavel Pešta (1948) or one of the pioneers of Czech rock’n’roll, Petr Kaplan (1940). And yesterday the Czech pop music scene has lost one of its most competent vocalists: Karel Černoch (1943) who died of colon cancer.

Karel Černoch began singing in the 1960s with various rock’n’roll and beat groups in Prague. Among international collectors he will be likely best remembered for his 1967–1968 recordings with Juventus: Ona se brání, 18 minut, Procitnutí or Zrcadlo. However, after 1970s his music output became rather inconsistent, i.e. not bound to any particular genre. He was travelling between soul, cheesy bubble-gum pop or country&western music, the latter becoming his passion from the 1980s on.

Still, at least for some parts of his discography you can truly state that nomen est omen: “černoch” means in Czech literally “black man”. And indeed, he was likely one of the very few vocalists in the world who was able to cover Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On (with Czech lyrics known as Věc koupená) so close to the original and yet without giving up a single bit of his personal style, nearly as he would have written this masterpiece himself. Of course, I will introduce that track in a future Funky Czech-In article along with more details to Černoch’s biography in general and this album in particular. Personally I reckon Letiště (The Airport) among the best Czechoslovak pop albums of the 20th century – besides of being one of the most soulful anyway – including the superb cover design by film maker Petr Sís.

Tržnice světa (The Emporium Of The World) is one of my other favorites from Letiště, penned by Černoch with imaginative lyrics from his longtime co-writer and former producer Pavel Žák. What seamingly begins as a singer/songwriter ballad, after one minute the song turns into a funky bossa nova driven by lively drums with loads of latin percussions, jazzy Fender Rhodes harmonies and with a typical Černoch scat solo towards the end. And what makes the track quite unique even in international context are the traces of rapping all along; keep in mind that around 1975 rap and hip hop was still four years away! The backing group was once again the ubiquitous Dance/Jazz Orchestra Of Czechoslovak Radio (TOČR/JOČR), probably with Karel Růžička on keyboards, Petr Kořínek on bass and Josef Vejvoda on drums. It’s not unlikely that Černoch himself played the acoustic rhythm guitar.

P.S. As an irony of fate: although my wife and me are not into celebrating christmas at all, last Monday I thought anyway that we could listen to a couple of “beat carols” and so I spinned two or three 45s on the turntable, all recorded in the late 1960s by Karel Černoch…

---

Interlude: Popmuseum

Although it might seem that Funky Czech-In has fallen into a sort of cozy winter sleep, the opposite is true and there’s quite a lot of activities going on behind the scenes. For example: since two weeks I am an official member of the “Museum and Archive of Popular Music Association”, a.k.a. popmuseum.cz. One of the benefits for me will be, among others, the access to their archive in Prague with an almost complete collection of Czech music magazines from the 1960s–1990s as well as a large photo archive. And what more can make a bigbít researcher like me even happier than that…? Yes, you guessed it: buying records! Last week I’ve managed to transport about 30 kg of pure Czechoslovak vinyl home to Basel by airplane, and there’s still another fresh 15 kg stored in our family flat in Prague.
Of course, there’s some really tasty funky stuff in the pipeline, yum!
Stay tuned!


A part of the exposition at Popmuseum Prague (photo © 2007 loukash.com)

---

Interlude: Spanish Czech-in

Sometimes I wish a day had at least thirty-two hours. So much music, so little time, as they say. Thus it happened that it’s been almost two weeks since Funky Czech-in was “on tour” in Madrid, Spain, and so this post is not exactly hot news anymore.

Anyway: thanks to Iñigo of Vampisoul we were guests on Charlie Faber’s insane radio show Sateli 3 live on Radio 3. The house was smokin’ and the receivers were explodin’ all over Iberia while we were airing hottest Czechoslovak bigbít from the sixties and the seventies! Only the best tracks were played, including some stuff that you already know from here. I hope to get the recording of the show soon to post it here as an MP3 stream. In the meantime tune into Sateli 3 live every evening from monday to friday, 9 to 10 pm CET. And while you’re already surfing, you may want to check out the nicely retro-designed funky site of Charlie’s friends at www.canora.es.


Lou Kash and Charlie Faber in a RNE studio (photo: © Iñigo Munster)

Until the full recording of the show arrives, here’s the first song that I’ve played:
Karel Vlach Orchestra – Tančíme twist [sample]
from 7 inch split single Supraphon 013434, around 1963


a generic seven inch Supraphon sleeve from the 1960s

---

Marriage on Bear’s Meadow

Fermáta – Svadba na Medvedej lúke [sample]
from album “Pieseň z hôľ (Song From Ridges)”, 1976, Opus 91160521
produced by Štefan Danko & Ján Lauko


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Since June I’ve spent about one or two weeks each month in Prague for family duties, over six weeks in total. Tomorrow we’re going for yet another week to my home town. This time one of the reasons for our visit is quite pleasant, however. Ondra, my oldest friend for more than thirty years since our school days, is going to marry Markéta on Saturday. But other than that – there’s absolutely no connection between the upcoming event and the main subject of this article except for the first word of the title of this tune: Svadba na Medvedej lúke (Marriage On Bear’s Meadow). Well then – Happy Marriage! (Oh, and while we’re at it: Happy Birthday to my brother Daniel today!)

The Slovak guitar virtuoso František Griglák, born in 1953, was already a well respected and experienced musician before he even turned twenty. With Pavol Hammel he recorded the early albums Prúdy (The Jets) and Som šťastný keď ste šťastní (I Am Happy When You Are Happy) in 1970–1971. Afterwards he shifted to the other main Slovak progressive group of the seventies, Marián Varga’s Collegium Musicum, with whom he worked on the classic(al) double LP Konvergencie (Convergency). In 1973 Griglák established Fermáta as likely the first and for a few years the only professional and more or less straight instrumental jazz-rock combo in Slovakia. The other founding members were the keyboarder and professional stage designer Tomáš Berka (1947), bassist Anton Jaro (1954) as well as originally Pavol Kozma on drums, who was soon replaced by Peter Szapu and in 1976 by another ex-Prúdy member Cyril Zeleňák (1951).

Probably thanks to Berka’s daily job, in the beginning the group used to record lots of scenic themes for various Slovak theater productions, thus training their sense for transforming colors and atmosphere into music. Their self-titled debut album was released in 1975. While it was clearly inspired by jazz-rock heroes like Mahavishnu McLaughlin or Al DiMeola, it suffered from rather poor recording production. One year later, the second album Pieseň z hôľ (Song From Ridges) turned out much better. Not only from the technical but also from the conceptual point of view. Quoting from the English liner notes by Igor Wasserberger: “In Czechoslovak jazz-rock it is this record that presents the most complete essay to form a synthesis with elements of domestic folk music. (…) Fermáta avoid frequent ways of rock and jazz arrangement of folk songs and try to involve elements of [Slovak] folk music into their own musical tongue.”

While the aforementioned statement certainly applies, Svadba na Medvedej lúke (Marriage On Bear’s Meadow) remains an unusual tune in Fermáta’s repertoire. Firstly, written by Berka, Jaro and Zeleňák, it’s the only collective instrumental composition from the group’s 1970s output; all other tunes have been penned either by Griglák or by Berka. Secondly, the band leader Griglák doesn’t seem to participate on this track at all. And frankly, I don’t even miss him that much. [Hey, no personal offense… :) But despite being a guitarist myself, actually I quite dislike the guitar-driven pyrotechnical jazz-rock sub-genre in general; except for Zappa, that is.] The song begins with a drum/synthesizer simulation of a thunderstorm or something, likely happening somewhere in the woods of the Tatra mountains, which then takes us to the said meadow (which actually really exists) while it evolves into a laid back but joyous funky wedding groove carried by a lively bass and colored by wide Fender Rhodes chords floating out of the folk-influenced themes. In fact, the track reminds me of Billy Cobham’s early work from his Spectrum/Crosswind period. In any case, to me Fermáta never sounded as warm as on this track again, although their later albums also include a couple of jazz-funk inspired sequences here and there.

In 1977 Karol Oláh replaced Zeleňák on drums and Ladislav Lučenič became the new bass player. In 1979 yet another ex-Prúdy/Collegium Musicum (and even ex-Blue Effect) member joined in, the Slovak bass master Fedor Frešo. Besides of releasing their conceptual albums the group also used to work as a studio backing band for artists like Miroslav Žbirka (two singles in 1976), Pavol Hammel (Stretnutie s tichom and the first Czechoslovak rock-musical Cyrano z predmestia) or for Dežo Ursiny (Pevnina detstva). The original Fermáta disbanded in 1985 after Oláh’s tragical death. Griglák revived the group with new musicians in the 1990s and continues to tour actively to the present day.

---

Working in the coal mine

Blue Swede – Working In The Coal Mine [sample]
from album “Hooked On A Feeling”, 1973, EMI ST-11286
produced by Bengt Palmers


original LP sleeve (front/back)

As you might have noticed, I have created a new label exclusively for this post, named Obscure Czech-In. That wasn’t without a reason because the other secondary label of this entry, Half Czech-In, is pure speculation on my part. To explain: I’ve found Hooked On A Feeling last year in a second hand record store (coincidentally it was in Prague, but that doesn’t matter here) and at first I thought, “well, yet another cheap one hit wonder from the seventies, nothing of interest for me.” On the second sight, however, there were three things that caught my attention: 1) the group had a “built-in” horn section (often a good sign), 2) they covered an Allen Toussaint song (they had taste!), and finally 3) the guy who’s credited to play clavinet and organ had a surprisingly Czechoslovak-sounding name – Ladislav Balaz [sic]. Well, to make a short story shorter, in the end I bought the record but except for a few tracks I was rather disappointed when I heard it at home. In the meantime I sold it again already.

Blue Swede were better known as Björn Skifs & Blåblus in their home country Sweden. Their international breakthrough came with a cover of B. J. Thomas’ hit Hooked On A Feeling, the title track of this album, which climbed up to no. 1 on the U.S. pop charts in 1974. The group’s style was kind of on the edge between early 70s pop and soulful brass-rock. At times they sounded almost like Chicago, for example, but still more on the pop side of things. The musicians who participated on this recording were, besides of Skifs, Jan Guldbäck (dr), Bo Liljedahl (b), Mikael Areklew (g), Tommy Berglund (tp), Hinke Ekestubbe (ts) and on keyboards the aforementioned Baláž (as the name should be spelled correctly in Czech or in Slovak).

Really, I surfed the word wild web for many long hours but I coudn’t find any other trace of a keyboarder named Ladislav Baláž except that he was playing on this particular record; I don’t think that he could be this guy, though. And interestingly enough, I can’t even hear much keyboards on this particular track either, unless it’s a clavinet and not a guitar in the centre of the stereo panorama when the verse is playing. Nevermind, whatever, Working In The Coal Mine is still my personal highlight of the album, despite the “Czech connection” perhaps being only a mirage. And besides of that, I’m definitely a fool for any Allen Toussaint song. Hence this is the first of only two opportunities known to me to post a Toussaint cover on this very blog in the first place…

---

I keep on singing

Eva Olmerová & the Prague Big Band – Zpívám dál [sample]
from 7" single “Georgia”, 1980, Panton 81430053
conducted by Milan Svoboda, produced by Josef Novotný


original SP sleeve

It wouldn’t be appropriate to simply call Eva Olmerová a jazz singer, although the majority of her recorded material falls more or less into that category. But she also loved to sing blues, gospel, pop and even country & western music. Born in 1934, in her teen years she began to sing with dixieland groups in Prague’s coffee houses. Her professional career started relatively late in 1962, when she’s been discovered by composer Karel Mareš, the dramaturge of the Semafor theatre, who was looking for an Eva Pilarová replacement. At that time Olmerová recorded her first hit Jsi jako dlouhý most (You’re Like A Long Bridge) which eventually won the popular song contest “In search of a song for the weekday”.

However, Olmerová’s career probably had more downs than ups. The communist regime always kept an eye on her family, particularly because her grandfather used to be an assistant of the last democratic president Edvard Beneš. In the 1960s and 1970s she’d been regularly prohibited from performing. She also spent more than two years in jail: in 1958 for smacking an insolent police officer and in 1972 for a car accident while driving drunk. And the latter incident reveals that her other enemy was her own lifestyle; alcohol and medicament abuse often turned her unreliable both on stage and in studio…

Olmerová’s undisputed highlight was the debut album Jazz-Feeling, recorded in 1968 for Supraphon’s export subsidiary Artia, which made her quite popular abroad. (I will revisit it more thoroughly in a future Funky Czech-In entry next year.) In 1969 she’s been even asked by Ella Fitzgerald to join her world tour after both ladies jammed together on a river boat party in Prague! Yet the communist regime didn’t allow Olmerová to travel, not even inside the Eastern Bloc. Nevertheless, in 1974 Supraphon/Artia released another English-sung export album with traditional dixieland tunes, recorded between 1969 and 1972 in numerous sessions. But afterwards she slipped into obscurity for the rest of the decade.

She’s been “rediscovered” in the late 1970s by a young generation of jazz-rock musicians. Her new mentors were the keyboarders and bandleaders Milan Svoboda and – particularly in the early 1980s – Michael Kocáb, who both obviously appreciated Olmerová’s dirty voice as well as her untamed attitude. In 1979 she recorded two singles with Svoboda’s Pražský big band (Prague Big Band). Her later collaborations with Kocáb’s studio orchestra or with JOČR were documented on further 45s as well as on two nice pop-jazzy comeback LPs: Zahraj i pro mne (Play It For Me, Too), which in fact was her debut album (!) for the Czech market in 1981, and Vítr rváč (The Wind The Thug) two years later.

I’ve chosen Zpívám dál (I Keep On Singing) not only for its funky atmosphere, but especially because of its programmatic Czech title. While Olmerová likely didn’t deliver her best vocal performance ever from the technical point of view, in her voice you can truly feel the pain as well as the heavy weight of life that she had to carry on her shoulders. The tune is an arrangement of Clive Westlake’s ballad Only Once with Czech lyrics by Ronald Kraus: I keep on singing / Even through the veil of tears / My song is my medicine / My song is a soft muffler / I keep on singing / For all who wander aimlessly through the dark / For the love that I know / For those who are alone / I keep on singing for myself. As for the backing band, an article about the Prague Big Band is in the works and I will post it later this fall, so stay tuned.

Czech music critics have often compared Eva Olmerová to afro-american singers like Bessie Smith or Billie Holiday – not only for the blues in her voice but also for the blues in her life. One of the critics even wrote that she was the only Czech world-class female singer in the pop/jazz genre. But in any case, at her zenith she was never given a chance to introduce herself to the world in the first place.

She passed away in 1993 of liver cirrhosis. Jitka Zelenková sang at her funeral. And now, go and get her records. You’ll find Zpívám dál on the CD compilation Blues samotářky (Blues Of A Loner).

---

I don’t want to have

Jitka Zelenková & The Gondolán Brothers Group – Já nechci mít [sample]
from 7 inch single “Čekej a neplakej”, 1969, Supraphon 0430818


original SP in a generic Supraphon sleeve

Jitka Zelenková was born in Brno in 1950. Her father was a symphony orchestra conductor, her mother sang with the Philharmonic Choir Prague. After winning several amateur singer contests, in 1968 she got an engagement at the renown Rokoko theatre in Prague where she performed with Waldemar Matuška or with Hana & Petr Ulrych. In 1973 she began to work as a background singer for Karel Gott. However, besides of recording a few singles as a solo artist and despite winning further awards at various Czechoslovak pop festivals, her solo career didn’t really took off before the end of the decade when Supraphon released her first solo album.

Multi-instrumentalist, singer and composer Antonín Gondolán was born in 1942 in Slovakia but his family moved to Bohemia two years later. At the age of merely 15 he got his first professional job with the Gustav Brom Orchestra. In the 1960s he studied double bass at the Prague Conservatory. In the mid 1960s he became a member of Prague’s Apollo theatre orchestra, Karel Gott’s backing band lead by the Štaidl brothers, with whom he also toured the USA in 1967. Back in Prague he founded a family combo with his brothers František, Jiří and Vojtěch, later joined by their teenage sister Věra on vocals (the Gondolán family were 12 siblings in total). In the late 1960s the group enjoyed big success at home and abroad, performing with major Czech pop stars like Gott, Waldemar Matuška or Helena Vondráčková. They played a unique blend of pop, beat and jazz with strong Romani folk influences. Besides of recording a couple of single sides on their own, they also used to back other singers on records. However, the family group disbanded in the early 1970s after most members with the exception of Antonín emigrated. He worked again as a freelance musician with Gott’s backing group (alias Ladislav Štaidl Orchestra), among others, until 1982 when he eventually exiled to West Germany as well. From then on he concentrated on playing jazz in general and double bass – his main instrument – in particular. In 1992 he returned back to the Czech republic. In 2004 he finally had the opportunity to release his long overdue first solo album with his folk-pop-jazz compositions.

If you are a regular reader, you might remember that I have a personal connection to the Gondolán family. One of Antonín’s sons, Roman, who unfortunately passed away last year, used to be a friend of ours in the mid 1980s while I lived with my family in Bern, Switzerland, and he also used to play drums in my band then. Additionally – and the reason why Roman came to Bern in the first place – his uncle Jiří (George), the original drummer of the Gondolán group, lived and still lives in Bern, too.

As a side note: Last week I’ve been in Prague (again!), so I’ve contacted Antonín Gondolán in order to do some research for this article. We met in the Reduta jazz club. He was supposed to have a gig with his combo that night, but his regular piano player has already left the country for studies in the United States. Thus Mr. Gondolán was forced to improvise in order to fulfill the contract. He decided to perform an ad-hoc repertoire of jazz standards as well as a medley of gipsy folk songs solely with his sister Věra Gondolánová, accompanying her on piano and on guitar. Well, to be honest, he’s not exactly a virtuoso on these instruments, yet Věra is such an outstanding and professional singer that she managed to turn this initially slightly chaotic jam session duet into a truly remarkable and unique event...


Antonín Gondolán with his sister Věra on the Reduta stage, August 11, 2007 (photo © 2007 Lukáš Machata)

Já nechci mít (I Don’t Want To Have) was penned by Antonín Gondolán with lyrics by Pavel Vrba. According to Mr. Gondolán, it was recorded spontaneously during a session with Jitka Zelenková. It’s hard to place the tune inside a particular genre drawer – I’d call it perhaps “gipsy soul”. Whatever, in my opinion this is one of the most soulful original songs that has ever been written and recorded in former Czechoslovakia. The track appeared as the flip side of Gondolán’s biggest hit ever, Čekej a neplakej (Wait And Don’t Cry), which is more of a pop-beat tune sung by Antonín himself. The original single sold about 150,000 copies. Já nechci mít has never been reissued yet, but it’s planned that it should appear on a new Gondolán CD scheduled for release next year.

---

Piece of my heart

Eva Pilarová & TOČR - Padni na kolena (Piece Of My Heart) [sample]
from 7 inch single "Vlny", 1970, Supraphon 0431049
conducted by Josef Vobruba, produced by Miloš Skalka


original SP sleeve (a generic "Pilarová" sleeve with additional imprint on the back)

As I have promised, here's more soul from Eva Pilarová. Her star sank slightly in the second half of the 1960s, after a new breed of female singers popped up on the Czech scene: the miss pop Helena Vondráčková, the C&W queen Naďa Urbánková, the chanson-girlie Hana Zagorová or the beat ladies Marta Kubišová and Marie Rottrová. Pilarová's educated alto voice on the other hand - while technically perfect - usually sounded a bit "academic", possibly too academic for young listeners interested in contemporary pop music. She's always been more comfortable in pop-jazz, swing or even in classical music rather than being an expressive soul or rock shouter. Nevertheless, bravely following the vogue she recorded a couple of soulful and funky tunes around 1970 as well.

Piece Of My Heart is one of the most recognizable female soul songs of the late sixties. Originally written in 1967 by Bert Berns and Jerry Ragovoy for Aretha's older sister Erma Franklin (1939-2002), it has been widely popularized by Dusty Springfield in 1968 and of course ultimately immortalized by Joplin's Big Brother & The Holding Company the very same year. I must say, however, that personally I prefer the softer versions over Janis' overrated hysterical scream orgy. And thanks to a TV ad from a jeans manufacturer, even Franklin's nearly forgotten yet still unmatched original came back to consciousness of a wider audience more than a decade ago.

Pilarová's rendition Padni na kolena (Get Down On Your Knees) with Czech lyrics by Zdeněk Borovec exactly follows Dusty Springfield's model and therefore also stays quite close to the original version. While the Dance Orchestra of the Czechoslovak Radio (TOČR) and an unnamed choir did a steady job as usual, the tune suffers from a horrible mix, mastering and pressing: the guys at Supraphon obviously must have had a really bad day then. (Note that I have done quite a lot of "clean-up", normalization and re-compression while digitalizing the track. The 7" side in its original "glory" sounds much worse!)

As far as I know, this song has never been reissued yet. And what's more surprising, the single doesn't even show up in Pilarová's official discography document. So grab it while it's hot or good luck hunting.

---

Viking's dreams

Jana Koubková & Horký dech - Vikingovy sny [sample]

from 7 inch EP "Mini jazz klub 23", 1979, Panton 81350005; also on export compilation "Jazz à la carte", 1981, Panton 81151981


original EP sleeve (front/inside)

If I stated before that Vlasta Průchová was the 1st lady of Czechoslovak jazz, then Jana Koubková (1944) must be the female president, for in the meantime she's a jazz "institution". She began to sing with Kulínský's Children Radio Chorus when she was six. From the early 1960s until the mid 1970s she was a member of possibly all important pop/jazz vocal groups that appeared on the scene: she co-founded the Linha Singers in 1963, she spent a few years with the Lubomír Pánek Singers & Swingers (alias Sbor Lubomíra Pánka) and she sang with the Inkognito Kvartet (a.k.a. Incognito Quartet). She quitted the latter shortly before their Mongolian tour with the Karel Duba Combo in August 1968, where the majority of both ensembles died in a car accident. Later she also briefly performed with Kučerovci, C&K Vocal, Jezinky and she worked in the Semafor Theatre.

Koubková came to "real" jazz quite late though, when she began to sing with Luděk Hulan's Jazz Sanatorium in 1975. Then she was a member of the Jazz Half Sextet and she also co-founded the female vocal trio/quartet Hot Tety (Hot Aunts). With both bands she recorded several 7" singles for Supraphon and Panton. After Hulan's tragical death in 1978 a group with the pun name Horký dech Jany Koubkové (Hot Breath Of Jana Koubková) came to existence. It was a relatively loose combo where Koubková's role wasn't that of a conventional lead singer, instead she used her voice as a further solo instrument. The nucleus of the group was made up of Ladislav Malina (dr), Ivo Durczak (b), Zdeněk Kalhous (p), Zdeněk Hrášek (g) and - surprise, surprise - Jiří Tomek on congas. (Really: if you hear any congas on a Czech record from the seventies, the chances might be around 90 % that it's been Tomek playing!) The rhythm section was augmented by a variable horn section, e.g. Rudolf Ticháček (ts), Zdeněk Šedivý (tp) and Zdeněk Bártík (tb) on these recordings.

Vikingovy sny (Viking's Dreams) was written by the future movie score composer Ilja Cmíral who also collaborated with Koubková on another track from the EP. It's a relatively complex fusion tune with a brazilian flavour in a vein similar to early Mahagon with Zdena Adamová, not necessarily danceable yet still very funky. Koubková excels as an expressive soloist, towards the end Ticháček joins in on tenor sax.

In 1982 Supraphon released Koubková's first solo album, a self titled LP under the Horký dech moniker. She reduced the line-up to a trio, however. She was backed only by guitarist Michal Pavlíček and drummer Jiří Hrubeš, who both joined Michael Kocáb's Pražský výběr shortly thereafter. Aside from a brief intermezzo with Jazz Q, from the 1980s on Koubková worked independently on numerous projects: from duos like with the Japanese pianist Aki Takase over Alan Vitouš Trio up to big band recordings with Kamil Hála's JOČR and others. And sort of stepping in Luděk Hulan's footprints (who also often worked behind the scenes), in 1981 she iniciated and organized the first edition of the Vokalíza jazz/blues/rock festival which ran annually until 2000. These days Koubková still can be heard performing on Prague's jazz stages regularly; a quick web search revealed that she plays at Jazzklub U staré paní (alias USP Jazz Lounge) tonight, for example...

As far as I know, Viking's Dreams has been reissued on a Japanese "best of" compilation. Besides of that, I still have the double LP Bratislava Jazz Days 1981 for sale in my web shop, which contains the live version of Fankuj fankuj vykrúcaj (Funky Funky Hop) by the late Horký dech trio.

---

Bossa Nova

Jana Petrů & TOČR - Bossa Nova [sample]
recorded in 1964, from compilation "Starci a klarinety", 2002, BMG-Ariola 743214111826


CD compilation booklet

Starci na chmelu (Oldmen Picking Hop, known as Hop Side Story or The Hop Pickers) from 1964 was the first Czechoslovak musical film. The pun title "Hop Side Story" isn't a bad analogy: like its famous U.S. mold, it tells a story of teenagers in love, outsiders and the troubles that may arise in such situations. But I've actually never seen the movie, so I can't tell if it would stand a direct comparison with West Side Story. Probably not, the socialistic realism didn't allow as much drama as in Manhattan's Upper West Side.

The movie soundtrack, however, is an undisputed Czech classic. Composed by Jiří Bažant, Jiří Malásek and Vlastimil Hála with lyrics by Vratislav Blažek, it features several original hits sung by popular stars of the early sixties like Karel Gott, Josef Zíma and Karel Štědrý.

I don't have much informations about Jana Petrů. She began to record in 1962. Besides of singing easy listening pop and foxtrot tunes she also used to perform with brass ensembles. Her most popular song was Den je krásný (It's A Beautiful Day), a duet with Karel Gott and the signature melody from the Starci na chmelu movie. Petrů remained active as a singer until the mid 1970s. By the way, do not confuse Jana Petrů with the pop/rock singer Petra Janů (1952), whose birth name actually also was Jana Petrů. As you might have guessed by now, later she changed it in order not to get confused with the older singer...

Bossa Nova is, well, a nice bossa nova, sort of. Acoustic guitar, maracas, cheesy organ, cool voices, actually it's got all what's needed. The lyrics are quite absurd though: Let's pray, let's pray, bossa nova, bossa nova / Let's repeat those two words, bossa nova, bossa nova / With this little prayer you'll be coming a long way / It will help you to reach what ever you wanted / Although Charles IV was a cruel feudalist / He initiated viniculture and not hop. Uh, without seeing the movie, the connection between hop and bossa nova is somewhat beyond my horizon...

The compilation Starci a klarinety (Oldmen And Clarinetes) is a double feature: on the same CD it also contains the even more popular soundtrack from yet another musical Kdyby 1000 klarinetů (If 1000 Clarinets) from the same year.

---

Pendulum

Discobolos – Kyvadlo [sample]
from album “Discobolos”, 1978, Supraphon 1132348
conducted by Jiří Svoboda, produced by Michael Prostějovský


original album sleeve (front/back)

As I stated before, Discobolos was a studio project of the brothers Karel (1938-2007) and Jiří Svoboda (1945-2004). While Karel became (in)famous as a hitmaker and later as a composer of musicals, Jiří was mainly active writing film and TV scores. The highlights of his career were two movie scores written for the director and future Academy Award winner Jan Svěrák in 1991 (Obecná škola) and 1993 (Akumulátor 1).

Established at the zenith of the disco era, Discobolos was one of the few projects when the Czechoslovak pop music industry was able to keep pace with a global vogue. (Not that it comes as a big surprise: unlike rock, for sure the communist censors considered disco ideologically “safe” due to the lack of any serious verbal message.) Besides of studio work for artists like Jiří Schelinger or Helena Vondráčková (the 1980 album Múzy/Music), Discobolos released two “solo” albums in 1978 and 1979: Discobolos and Disco/Sound. The latter consisted mostly of “recycled” and disco-fied versions of older pop hits writen by Karel Svoboda. The first album, however, contained original material including one of the most popular Czech disco hits Dlouhá bílá žhnoucí kometa (A Long White Glowing Comet) sung by the exceptional vocal talent Jana Kratochvílová (1953).

Kratochvílová’s unmistakeable voice also adds the spice to the theme melody on Jiří Svoboda’s nearly-instrumental Kyvadlo (Pendulum). Czech pop music has never been closer to American disco-funk than with this tune, despite the occasional timing problems which the drummer seemed to have. Nonetheless, the studio group was built around a competent bunch of rock and jazz musicians, then also known as Bohemia: Vladimír Kulhánek on bass, Michal Pavlíček on guitars, percussionist Jiří Tomek, saxophonist Jan Kubík and Pavel Trnavský who was obviously the said drummer. On few tracks even Lešek Semelka appeared as the lead vocalist. Lots of keyboarders were involved anyway: Pavel Větrovec, Karel Štolba, Jan Hála and of course the Svoboda brothers. Additional vocals à la Silver Convention were provided by the female trio Viktorínová/Nopová/Jakoubková alias Bezinky.

Both Discobolos vinyl album should be quite easy to find in Prague or in Czech online stores, since they were anything else but rare. I’ve even seen some on flea markets in Switzerland recently. In fact, that reminds me that I still have a copy for sale – for one Euro only! (Yes, there’s a caveat: one track is badly scratched, that’s why.)

---

Sixteen tons

Karel Hála & TOČR - Vopravdu sám (Sixteen Tons) [sample]
from SP "Patří ti velikej dík", 1970, Supraphon 0430890
conducted by Josef Vobruba, produced by Zdeněk Borovec
Josef Laufer & the Bohuslav Myslík Orchestra - Šestnáct tun (Sixteen Tons) [sample]
from album "74", 1974, Panton 110431
conducted by Zdeněk Marat, produced by Vítek Haderka


original generic Karel Hála 7 inch sleeve, original Josef Laufer album sleeve

You write a blog entry and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt! But also another double feature for you folks under the Cover Czech-In label: here are sixteen tons of Mr. Swing alias Karel Hála as well as yet another heavy load, Mr. Controversial, known as Josef Laufer. Both gentlemen are bringing to you the same song with different Czech lyrics, Sixteen Tons. The original tune dates back to 1946 when it was written and recorded by American C&W singer/hitmaker Merle Travis as a fake coal miner worker song. The ultimate version, however, belongs to Tennessee Ernie Ford. His cool and swinging rendition hit the U.S. charts in 1955 and seemingly became the most successful single ever released. (Check out ernieford.com/SixteenTons.htm for the whole story.)

Karel Hála (1933, no relation with Kamil and Vlastimil Hála of the JOČR fame) with his dark voice is one of the true veterans of Czechoslovak popular music. After he finished the Prague Conservatory in 1954 he began to work as a choir singer, from the Army Opera choir to the Karel Vlach Orchestra. In 1957 he was discovered by Karel Krautgartner who hired him as a soloist for his short-lived jazz combo. Since the late 1950s Hála toured with various dance orchestras again, this time as a bass player and later as a lead singer. His career finally began to take off in 1965 with his engagement in the Apollo Theatre (the one in Prague, of course) alongside Karel Gott and other Czech pop stars. But despite several hit songs and praises from the critics he had to wait until 1973 to finally record his first solo album called simply Swing. One reason for that might have been his progressive "skinhead" haircut - which supposedly was almost considered an opposite extreme to the long-haired freaks from the sixties' beat scene. Another obstruction probably was his inconsistent repertoire: Hála had to sing a lot of Soviet "muzak" or schlagers, too, because singing too much jazz used to be considered too "imperialistic" by the responsible communist authorities. Nevertheless he recorded several good single sides for Supraphon in the sixties which are worth checking out, like Tak rychle jako čas, Růžová nálada or Budu hledat dál. Some are closer to jazz, others may even sound quite soulful.

Vopravdu sám (Definitely Alone) is sort of a hybrid of both genres, where a cool rhythm'n'blues double bass verse à la Fever alternates with a driving chorus accompanied by a powerful big band arrangement. However, except for the overall impression, not much has been left from the original Sixteen Tons tune, not even Jiří Štědroň's lyrics hint at the origin. Their message is pure blues though. And that's where Hála definitely feels at home. As such, this rendition might be one of the "blackest" versions ever recorded. The production doesn't even sound much like "1970", the TOČR/JOČR rhythm section still gives the song lots of the early 1960s feeling. The a-side of the single is an original blues/gospel ballad in 12/8, Patří ti velikej dík (A Big Thanks Belongs To You), with a wild Hammond organ and a strangely wicked rhythm guitar. Unfortunately, that otherwise interesting song flips to the cheese side of the universe as soon as a pathetically arranged choir drops in.

Hála has been still sporadically performing with various Czech big bands in the recent years. The original recording of Vopravdu sám is available on a "best of Karel Hála" CD compilation.

~

Josef Laufer was born 1939 in France to a Czech doctor and a Spanish nurse. The family spent the war in England and in 1947 they moved to Czechoslovakia. Laufer's artistic path began as an actor during his military service and he finished the Theatre Academy in Prague in 1965. Being fluent in several languages, in the late 1960s he launched a promising international career as a pop singer when he toured and recorded in Western Europe and in the U.S. However, the Iron Curtain closed for him for some time after his brother emigrated in 1968.

Many of Laufer's tracks from the sixties are close to "cheasy" listening or schlager, but he's also featured on a couple of solid beat and R&B single sides with the Karel Duba combo. Then there's the Panton album V roce 1969 (In The Year 1969). Unlike most of his other vinyl output at that time, the said LP was recorded with his live backing band Their Majesties. In my opinion it belongs to the best Czech beat albums of the decade; that said, keep in mind that there weren't many Czechoslovak beat albums in the first place, thus take my statement with a grain of salt. Nonetheless, it's also worth checking out because of the beautiful sleeve, designed by Laufer's wife Irena Greifová. (A blog post about this record is available on a Dutch site where you can look at the cover artwork and listen to its best song. You may want to ignore the article as such though, because the writer doesn't seem to have much clue about the matter...)

Laufer belonged to the most popular Czech singers in the 1970s. But his star began to sink after 1976 when he recorded one of the most stupid pop songs in the history of man kind: Dopis Svobodné Evropě (A Letter to Radio Free Europe). It praises the Czech communist spy Cpt. Minařík who had been planning a terror attack on the Radio Free Europe building in Munich, West Germany. The lyrics are so full of communist propaganda and "anti-imperialistic" hatred that it makes you want to puke when you listen [external audio link] to it 30 years later. Today, out of context, one might want to believe that it was irony, but it wasn't. Sorry, Mr. Laufer, all credit lost...

But let's ignore it for now, because not all of Laufer's 1970s' records were all that bad, at least musically. Usually he was backed by a solid group which evolved from the original Their Majesties and eventually became known as Golem. Laufer's Spanish origin manifested in several latino influenced tunes for example, some of them sung in Spanish. After all, he used to perform in Cuba quite often at that time. And during the disco era he was the logical choice for a Czech rendition of Boney M's classic Daddy Cool alias Tak už jsem boty zul. In the 1990s Laufer launched a comeback as a singer and actor in various Czech musicals.

Besides of 16 tun (Sixteen Tons), the album '74 contains a bunch of other quite tasteful covers like Stephen Stills' Ecology Song (Rád vás tu mám), a driving Les Humphries medley or a medley of traditional Czech folk songs in a surprisingly juicy arrangement. Some of Laufer/Myslík's original compositions even come sort of funky. The orchestra line-up: Bohuslav Myslík (keys), ex-Atlantis Vladimír Grunt (dr), the last original Their Majesties member Ladislav Chvalkovský (b), Pavel Růžička (g) whom you already met as a half ORM, Jan Václavík (saxes), Radoslav Pobořil (tp), Jiří Doubrava (tb) and last but not least the background singers Vlasta Kahovcová, Jarmila Gerlová and Jana Löfflerová.

---

Solstice

Jazz Q - Slunovrat [sample]
from album "Elegie", 1976, Supraphon 1151983
produced by Hynek Žalčík & Jan Spálený


original LP sleeve designed by Karel Haloun, export album, export reissue

While I've been a bit behind my weekly schedule with my previous blog post - which has been delayed by a couple of days - today I'm almost on time with an actual astronomical event. And speaking of time, it's truly about time to dedicate an entry to one of the most important Czechoslovak acts of the seventies, Martin Kratochvíl's Jazz Q. Despite the group's name, their importance didn't manifest only on the jazz side of things, of course. Like many other 1970s Czechoslovak combos oriented to jazz, at times they were able to supply a heavy dose of rock to the starving audience as well. And actually it's not even the first time you're hearing Jazz Q on this blog, they were already backing Helena Vondráčková last December.

Jazz Q was founded in 1964 by keyboarder Kratochvíl (1946) with flutist and saxophonist Jiří Stivín. In the beginning they inclined to free jazz. The group was even quite successful internationally, both Kratochvíl and Stivín won a couple of festival prizes in the late 1960s. But while Stivín wanted to continue with his free work, Kratochvíl decided to switch over to the progressive rock camp. After all, he spent the years 1967-1968 in England where he visited a lot of pop festivals, experiencing acts like the Doors or Jimi Hendrix.

Still with Stivín, Jazz Q recorded their first Supraphon LP in 1970, Coniunctio. That was a collaboration with Radim Hladík's reduced Blue Effect who had just kicked their singer Vladimír Mišík out of the group. The album came out pretty weird. Jazz Q already tried to move closer to rock while Blue Effect were sort of searching for the way out of it. All at the same time. And though one might assume that both groups would meet somewhere in the middle, they didn't. Stivín then left for a stellar solo career and Kratochvíl rebuilt his group from the ground up. His 1973 effort Pozorovatelna (The Watch-Tower) has been recorded for Panton with ex-Framus 5 Luboš Andršt on guitar and the young talented bass guitarist Vladimír Padrůněk (later with Mišík's ETC, then again with Jazz Q). Only few months later Kratochvíl began to work on a new Supraphon album with ex-Flamengo blues specialist František Francl (1946) on guitar and his English wife and vocalist Joan Duggan: Symbiosis became one of the darkest reflections of the Czechoslovak normalization era and it's definitely worth another "czech-in" in the future.

Slunovrat (Solstice) is the opener of Elegie (Elegy), Jazz Q's fourth album. Clearly inspired by big names in funk-jazz and fusion, Kratochvíl excels on Fender Rhodes and Moog, Francl plays a sparse but effective rock guitar, while bassist Přemysl Faukner (1952) with drummer Libor Laun (1951) are cookin' it tight and funky. The other seven album tracks also feature several special guests like ETC's violinist Jan Hrubý, Impuls's Michal Gera on trumpet or the ubiquitous Jiří Tomek on conga.

In 1977 Kratochvíl spent a year at the Berklee College of Music. Back from the States he continued to perform and record under the Jazz Q flag until 1984. Besides of making instrumental albums he also used to work with various singers: Jana Kratochvílová, Jana Koubková, the aforementioned Helena Vondráčková, Martha Elefteriadu or with ex-Marsyas Oskar Petr.

Jazz Q reunited another 20 years later, in 2004, and they are still performing these days. The recent line-up features only one "new" member, the Impuls guitarist Zdeněk Fišer. (Francl had to give up playing guitar in the 1980s due to a hand injury. He's still active as a recording producer though.) Faukner is back on the fretless bass, Jaromír Helešic already played drums on Zvěsti (Tidings) and Paprsky (Beams) in 1977-1978. And on vocals there's Oskar Petr again who returned from his U.S. exile to the Czech Republic in the 1990s.

Regular Jazz Q albums are available as second hand vinyl only, so czech out your online sources. Some tracks from Elegie also appeared on several English and German funk-jazz/fusion compilations.

---

A rose in the window

Miroslav Koželuh & TOČR/JOČR - Růže v okně [sample]
b-side of the 7 inch split single "René Glaneau - Le petit Gonzales", 1962~, Supraphon 013221
conducted by Karel Krautgartner


a TOČR/JOČR recording session in the early 1960s

After visiting the vernissage of the Karel Krautgartner exhibition* at the Popmuseum* in Prague last week, I think it's appropriate to add a corresponding "soundtrack". But I'm still in Prague right now, so the choice is somewhat limited to what I have already recorded to MP3 and stored in my laptop, since my record collection happens to be in Switzerland. Hence a track which actually features another soloist of Krautgartner's orchestra, not the leader himself.

Karel Krautgartner (1922-1982) began his music career in the 1940s as a clarinetist in various groups and orchestras in Brno, among others in an early line-up of the Gustav Brom Orchestra. In 1945 Krautgartner became member of the renowned Karel Vlach Orchestra, so he moved from Brno to Prague. Under Vlach's leadership he became a versatile soloist on clarinet and sax, composer and arranger. In 1956 he formed his own quintet. This group eventually grew up to a nonet, building the nucleus of the future radio big band and performing with the Czech first lady of jazz Vlasta Průchová as well as with a talented young singer named Karel Gott, who in fact has been discovered by Krautgartner in the first place.

Krautgartner founded the Dance Orchestra of The Czechoslovak Radio (TOČR) in 1960. The circumstances have already been briefly described in my JOČR post from last November. After the conceptual split of the orchestra to TOČR and JOČR in 1963 Krautgartner remained its chief conductor and artistic leader. In 1967 the big band has been officially renamed (and reunited) as the Karel Krautgartner Orchestra. Then came the 21st of August 1968. Krautgartner with his family emigrated to Austria on the very same day and he never came back. In Vienna he worked as the conductor of the ORF Big Band. In the early 1970s he moved to Cologne, Germany, where he began to study musicology and taught at the Cologne conservatory until his early death in 1982.

Růže v okně (A Rose In The Window) originally was a Czech waltz, composed by Alfons Jindra for the Karel Vlach Orchestra with the singer Jiřina Salačová in the 1940s. It's even possible that Krautgartner already was a member of the Vlach ensemble when the song was first released on an Ultraphon 78 rpm record then. TOČR's 1960s instrumental revamp on the other hand connects the melancholic melody with a fashionable and danceable cha-cha-cha rhythm. The soloist was the trombone maestro Miroslav Koželuh. Other band members at the time of the recording (probably 1962 or 1963) might have been Ladislav Pikart, František Kryka, Bedřich Kuník, Milan Ulrich, Pavel Vitoch, Jiří Jelínek, Richard Kubernát, Václav Hybš, Arthur Hollitzer, Vladimír Tomek, Kamil Hála, Luděk Hulan and Ivan Dominák.

This track appeared as the flip side of the smash hit Le petit Gonzales (Speedy Gonzales), sung by Frenchman René Glaneau with the Sláva Kunst Orchestra. Coincidentally, I have another copy of this 7 inch for sale: check out my web shop and search for item no. 276.

---

* Technical note:
If you're using a Mac you'd better view the Popmuseum site in Firefox. It doesn't seem to work well with Safari.

---

Life is just a coincidence

Martha & Tena & Vulkán - Život je jen náhoda [sample]
from SP "Martha-Tena", 1969, Panton 040250; also on 7"/33 rpm mini-LP compilation "První pantoniáda", 1970, Panton 080201 and on CD "Ať se múzy poperou", 2005, Supraphon
produced by Aleš Sigmund


original SP sleeve, 7" mini-LP compilation sleeve

This entry would almost qualify for the Half Czech-In section as well. The singing sisters Martha and Tena Elefteriadu (1946/1948) were born in former Yugoslavia and their parents were actually Greek political refugees. Nevertheless, since the early 1950s they grew up and went to school around Brno, so besides of their mother tongue they are absolutely fluent in Czech, too. In 1966 they began to work with guitarist and composer Aleš Sigmund (1944) and his Vulkán. The first version of Vulkán was actually Petr Ulrych's group, the talented Elefteriadu sisters were added as background singers for the second edition. In the beginning they were still sharing the vocal parts with the Ulrych siblings. However, Hana and Petr Ulrych launched their own successful career by the end of 1967 when they joined Atlantis (not the 1970s German group, of course) which already consisted of some earlier Vulkán members.

Like many Czech beat groups between 1967 and 1969, also Vulkán were then partly inspired by soul music. Still with the Ulrychs they recorded two 45s for Supraphon and another two for the very short-lived Discant label from Brno. In 1969 Martha & Tena got a deal with Panton. Besides of Sigmund-penned songs they recorded some of their favorite soul hits like Dancing In The Street, Rescue Me or River Deep Mountain High. The exact line-up of these Panton sessions is not confirmed. But after the group's original rhythm section emigrated to Austria and Switzerland in 1968, their successors were keyboarder Bedřich Crha, bass guitarist Cyril Kajnar and drummer Karel Antonín. In the studio they were augmented by a horn section most likely made of members of the Brno-based Gustav Brom orchestra as those were also regular guests on subsequent Martha & Tena or Ulrych's pop albums.

Their third Panton single features a cover version of another kind: Život je jen náhoda (Life Is Just A Coincidence) is one of the most popular original Czech evergreens ever. Written by composer and - even in global context - jazz pioneer Jaroslav Ježek (1906-1942) with intelligent lyrics by the comedian duo Voskovec & Werich, the original version of the song first appeared in V&W's and Jindřich Honzl's classic comedy movie Peníze nebo život (Your Money Or Your Life) from 1932. "Life is just a coincidence / one time you're up, another time you're down / life flows like the water / and the death is like the ocean." Sigmund added for Martha & Tena a contemporary pop-soul arrangement while the ladies' alto voices elegantly preserved the original tune's satirical feel. Singing a song like this in the political climate of the year after the Soviet invasion might have likely been meant as a statement.

Martha & Tena had a successful pop career in the seventies. Vulkán eventually transformed into the Aleš Sigmund Group which absorbed the members of another Brno rock legend, the Progress Organisation (alias Barnodaj alias the future Progres 2) including yet another Greek, Emanuel Sideridis on bass. Sigmund himself also often played bouzouki. The new Martha & Tena sound oscillated between folk-rock, mainstream pop and Greek-Moravian "world music". Unfortunately, soul got lost somewhere in that transition, let alone rock; the seventies were bad for any untamed musical expression. Although you can still find a few quite attractive covers from the Beatles, Bee Gees, Mamas & Papas or CCR on their first three vinyl albums. At least, Život je jen náhoda has made it onto their recent "Best Of" CD compilation.

Sigmund began to work for Panton as a producer and editor in the 1970s, later he also recorded a couple of easy listening retro-guitar instrumental albums. In that context it's almost hard to believe that he was supposedly one of the iniciators as well as the main force behind the Panton Mini Jazz Klub series of 7" EPs which began in 1976 and lasted for 10 years with about 50 releases. Martha Elefteriadu on the other hand - who mostly sung the lead voice of the duo, by the way - collaborated with jazz musicians actively in the late 1970s, namely with Jazz Q and with Michael Kocáb. The results were quite funky. That means: more Elefteriadu on Funky Czech-In is about to come.

---

Bafff

František Ringo Čech Group - Bafff (Jingo) [sample]
from album "Báječní muži", 1975, Supraphon 1131776


original LP sleeve (front/back)

František "Ringo" Čech (1943) is not only a "bigbít" veteran and a living legend, he is also one of the most controversial figures in Czech rock history. On one hand his music taste has never been really refined, on the other he supposedly didn't only make friends among his colleagues during his career, neither with his business practices nor with his public statements. Čech originates from a family of musicians, his father was a well known songwriter in Prague. His career began as a teenage drummer in dixieland and brass orchestras. In that context it's worth to mention that he's probably the first (future) Czechoslovak rock musician ever to appear on a 12 inch long player: as a member of the Study Group Of Traditional Jazz he hit the skins on a track from the Czechoslovak Jazz 1963 compilation, sharing the vinyl grooves with top jazz names like Karel Krautgartner, Gustav Brom, Luděk Hulan or Karel Velebný. In 1963 Čech began to study at the Prague Conservatory, but at the same time he decided to become a rock'n'roll drummer. He got a job at the Olympik club, Prague's beat address number one. With the club house band, the original Olympic, he recorded about two dozens of 7" sides until 1965, including Dej mi víc své lásky (Give Me More Of Your Love), their first self-penned beat hit in Czech language. He quitted for a prestigious Las Vegas engagement with Jiří Srnec's Black Theatre while J.A. Pacák became Olympic's new drummer. Back from the States, Čech tried his luck with rock'n'roll again, founding the all-star Rogers Band with several former rock'n'roll stars, but by 1967 pure rock'n'roll was already out of fashion.

The history of the F.R. Čech Group begins in 1968 in the renown Semafor Theatre in Prague. They used to work there as the Shut Up Orchestra, being one of the theater's house bands and usually backing comedy shows by Šimek & Grossmann. Initially their repertoire mostly consisted of country & western covers with Jiří Grossmann's and later with Čech's lyrics - sometimes humorous, sometimes rather silly. Shut Up performed and recorded with Grossmann, Jiří Helekal, Pavel Bobek, Miluše Voborníková, Karel Černoch or the ex-Rebels (what a pun...!) Jiří Korn. Among the group instrumentalists were Čech's brother Svatopluk on bass, former Komety guitarists Kaleš and Reiner, keyboarder Zdeněk Merta or the ex-Juventus Petr Rezek. Čech was still sitting behind the drums but he also slowly evolved to the group's master mind. After Grossmann's death in 1971 Shut Up began to work with singer Viktor Sodoma who was still trying to launch a pop career since the 1968 breakup of the Matadors. At the very least, at that time Čech proved a good sense for choosing obscure bubble-gum music cover versions which then became popular hits in Czechoslovakia. The only part that might have been close to subversion and therefore objected by the authorities was the English band name, thus Shut Up had to be relabeled as F.R. Čech Group.

In 1973 Čech retired from playing the drum kit and became what we would call an M.C. these days - a master of ceremony - while he was still occasionally standing behind assorted percussion instruments on stage. Although he never really left the pop genre for the years to come, as an opportunist that he was he must have realized that the continuing communist oppression on rock music in the early 1970s could actually help him on his way to even bigger fame while gaining credibility by the non-commercially oriented young audience. So in times when almost everyone else in Czechoslovakia would be giving up distorted guitars in favor of safe jobs on the legal side of pop music, Čech's group began to fire up their boosters in an unheard manner to date, bringing examples of contemporary hard rock à la Deep Purple or Black Sabbath to the hungry freaks. And with that change in style a definite change behind the lead vocalist's microphone became inevitable as well, but that's already another story.

Bafff is a "cover" of Babatunde Olatunji's ultimate afro groove Jingo, a.k.a. Jin-Go-Lo-Ba. But F.R. Čech was covering Santana's latinized version from 1969 and he even got it all wrong because he obviously believed he was playing a track called Soul Sacrifice, at least that's what the album cover says. (It's likely that Čech & Co. only had a taped copy of a Santana LP and thus they weren't able to figure out the corresponding track titles...) The song has been recorded by the Czech TV in 1973 or 1974, in the transition period before Sodoma's definitive departure and while the new vocalist Jiří Schelinger arrived. The exact line-up or the recording date seems unknown though. František Ringo Čech was playing percussion, of course, and he's not even doing all that bad. Most likely there's the future Katapult frontman Oldřich Říha playing lead guitar and the Shut Up veteran Miloš Nop (1949-2006) was on organ. Jindřich Vobořil might have played bass and either Anatolij Kohout, Petr Eichler or Jiří Jirásek (ex-George & Beatovens) was drumming. Whether Sodoma or Schelinger were singing any backing vocals is unsure as well.

For sure is that Bafff isn't the ultimate Jingo rendition, that honor belongs without doubt to Candido's disco monster from 1979. But it's still a remarkable afro-rock/latin-rock effort for a pop band that's been stuck behind the Iron Curtain through the best era of the rock history. And as I have stated a couple of weeks ago, it's one of the very few examples of this genre ever recorded in Czechoslovakia in the seventies. Unfortunately, as a quasi-instrumental cover tune it seems to be omitted from any Schelinger/Sodoma/Čech CD compilations, so grab it while it's hot.

I've been briefly writing about the album Báječní muži (Wonderful Men) and some of its background story in my Schelinger post last year. While it was the Čech Group's first true 12 inch LP, in the early 70s they already recorded two "bubble-gum" mini-albums for Panton under the Shut Up moniker. (Such mini-LPs or rather "maxi-EPs" were an obscure and luckily short-lived 7 inch/33 rpm hybrid format with 6 to 8 tracks - probably invented in order to save vinyl resources or something - and partly unplayable on auto-return turntables due to the much narrower inner groove diameter.) Shut Up/F.R. Čech Group has also been backing Sodoma on the side two of his only solo LP Haló děťátka (Hello Little Children) in 1972. Although with five years of age I definitely belonged to the target audience for that album, I can clearly remember that there was something about Sodoma that I disliked then...

Stay tuned to this channel, more about Schelinger/Čech & Co. will surely show up here in the future.

---

Appendix

Impuls - Apendix [sample]
from compilation "Jazzrocková dílna 2", 1976, Panton 110598
produced by Karel Srp


original LP sleeve, designed by Joska Skalník

There was a time in the 1970s when the closest you could get to progressive Czechoslovak rock music was to buy a jazz record. If it wasn't already sold out, that is. Instrumental jazz-rock was not just en vogue, it was also the safest way for Czechoslovak rock groups to obtain a licence for performing in public and - at least in some cases - to appear on records: they could impress the responsible committees with musicianship and there were no lyrics to rouse the censors. Luboš Andršt's Energit was one of the best known examples for this strategy. On the other hand, some of established jazzmen decided to jump on the jazz-rock (in the widest sense) bandwagon as well, in order to gain additional audience, particularly among young listeners; a trend that actually happened all over the world. And then there was a young generation of unbiased musicians who already began to mix rock and jazz as a matter of course from the beginning.

The original Impuls initially got together around 1971 as Jazz Nova with trombonist Jindřich Dostál (ex-Framus Five), still with some focus on mainstream jazz. Some time later (the sources differ on the year, so it must have been between 1972 and 1974...) the keyboarder Pavel Kostiuk (1946, not this guy!), guitarist Zdeněk Fišer (1950), bass player Jan Vytrhlík (later with Energit) and drummer Jaromír Helešic (1947) changed both the group name and the sound after hearing the most recent records by Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock or the Mahavishnu Orchestra with compatriot Jan Hammer. The new soloist eventually became Michal Gera (1949) on electric trumpet, but the rhythm section also used to work as live backing group, e.g. for the C&K Vocal sextet. Vytrhlík has been later replaced by Alexander Čihař and finally in 1976 František Uhlíř (1950) joined on double bass.

Impuls's first vinyl appearance was on the legendary Panton compilation Jazzrocková dílna (Jazzrock Workshop) with the Hancock composition Sly and Corea's Crystal Silence, a live recording from the 2nd Prague Jazz Days (PJD) festival in March 1975. The success of the PJD album gave the impuls (pun intended) to the even more legendary Panton seven inch Mini Jazz Klub series, with Impuls playing two original tunes on no. 7.

Gera's composition Apendix (Appendix), one of Impuls's funkiest tunes, comes from the compilation Jazzrocková dílna 2 (Jazzrock Workshop 2). Although that album was still inspired by the PJD, unlike volume 1 it has been produced as a studio recording where Impuls shared the grooves with fellow jazz-rockers Energit and Jazz Q. And although being a compilation, the whole album sounds surprisingly more homogeneous than many other regular records of that genre. Another track worth to point out is Energit's opus magnum Superstimulátor.

Impuls recorded their well known self-titled debut LP in 1977. By then they have refined their original blend of jazz, rock, latin, funk and Slavic melodies even further, making that album one of the jazz-rock masterpieces even in global context. The group disbanded shortly thereafter, but each of the members eventually became a highly respected musician on his own on the European jazz scene. In the 1990s Fišer revived Impuls in almost original line-up and the group is still playing these days.

Jazzrocková dílna 2 is available on the web at various places. I've even seen a copy on Dusty Groove this week. Unfortunately, the LP doesn't seem to get cheaper as time passes by...

---

Taiga blues

Marta Kubišová & The Golden Kids Orchestra - Tajga-Blues '69 [sample]
from 7 inch single, 1969, Supraphon 0430646 (mono); also on CD "Tajga blues (Singly 5)", 2000, Bonton 4988602 (stereo version)
produced by Bohuslav Ondráček, conducted by Josef Vobruba


original SP sleeve (actually a generic "Kubišová" sleeve with additional track imprint on the back)

I admit it right away: I've been watching the semi-finale of the Eurovision Song Contest yesterday. Actually my wife did, that is. But I've seen it too. It's been the first time that Czechs participated on this silly contest, and since we're living in Switzerland, we've voted like crazy for the Czech representative, the hard rock group Kabát. Not that their song would mean anything special to us, but I've met those guys a couple of times personally as they are good friends of some good friends of mine from the city of Teplice. Thus I can say that they are really nice guys and actually also great musicians - something that you can't say of many of the other contest participants. Anyway, if you don't know the semi-finale results yet, you'll surely find out soon if it's really of any importance to you. Just as a side note: judging from the results, the Czech Republic obviously doesn't belong to the Eastern Europe anymore (which it never did in geographic sense anyway). And that's actually good news... ;)

Well then, what's left for us - let's have the Taiga blues today. Do I need to say more about Marta Kubišová than I already did in my very first music post last year? Tajga blues '69, written by producer Bohuslav Ondráček (1932-1998) with lyrics from the Golden Kids bass player Zdeněk Rytíř, is yet again a bitter reflection of the Soviet invasion in Czechoslovakia in late summer of 1968. And it is yet another proof what talent has been put to ice for long twenty years while Marta was prohibited from performing and recording by the communist regime.

The Tajga blues (Singly 5) double CD is an excellent compilation of the last 1969/1970 single sides by Marta Kubišová before she'd been banned. It also includes some unreleased material as well as a bunch of beautiful Moravian folk songs recorded clandestinely in 1978 with singer/songwriter Jaroslav Hutka in Prague. Ten out of five stars!

---

The fountains of cognition

Mahagon - Prameny poznání [sample]
from album "Slunečnice pro Vincenta van Gogha", 1980, Supraphon 11132684
produced by Jan Spálený, Pavel Kühn & Květoslav Rohleder


original LP sleeve, designed by Vladimír Jiránek

Mahagon might already be a known name to more experienced collectors of funk. They were one of the few quite straight Czech funk-jazz fusion groups of the seventies and their self-titled long play album from 1977 rightfully became a sought-after collector's item.

The band was the brainchild of bass player, composer and arranger Petr Klapka (1955) while he studied composition at the Prague Conservatory. In the early 1970s he founded Mahagon initially as a singer/songwriter folk duo (!) with his classmate and future Bohemia keyboarder Jan Hála. But soon they became influenced by popular brass-rock groups like Blood Sweat & Tears or Chicago, thus the line-up logically expanded to a much larger combo. Klapka usually had an excellent taste in choosing his sidemen: one of the first lead singers was "Mr. Soul" himself, Michal Prokop. Unfortunately that period remained undocumented on records. (Once more... It seems to me that Michal Prokop must have had an extraordinarily bad luck through the seventies in that regard, being often in the right place but mostly at the wrong time.) On the Mahagon debut album, recorded in 1977, you can hear for example Klapka's schoolmate Michael Kocáb on keyboards, ETC members Jiří Jelínek on guitar (who died tragically soon thereafter) and violinist Jan Hrubý, as well as a large horn section around jazz saxophonist Jiří Niederle. At that time a significant number of the players were also members of the Prague Big Band (Pražský big band) of keyboarder Milan Svoboda, yet another Klapka's schoolmate from the conservatory.

After adding his wife and ex-C&K Vocal singer Zdena Adamová (1952) to the line-up in 1976, Klapka occasionally began to slip into the pop music genre. He featured Adamová on several Supraphon and Panton seven inch sides between 1976 and 1979. Not all of those singles are a must-have, but I'd still point out the Mahagon debut recording Půlnoční bál/Červené korále. In 1979 Klapka joined the ex-Apollobeat leader, composer and Supraphon producer Jan Spálený for his solo album Signál času (The Signal Of Time), a funky jazz-rock adaptation of poems by Vítězslav Nezval. Although the band name "Mahagon" was used, the studio group had transformed almost completely.

The second and last regular Mahagon album Slunečnice pro Vincenta van Gogha (Sunflowers For Vincent Van Gogh) has been recorded in 1979, too. But yet another transformation happened: what we hear on this record is actually the forthcoming 1980s edition of Pražský výběr, but with Klapka on bass! (The original, jazzy Pražský výběr/Prague Selection combo of the 1970s was in fact the complete rhythm section of the Prague Big Band - hence the band name - and thus the Mahagon connection here isn't all too surprising.) So, Kocáb is back on the keys, ex-Bohemia Michal Pavlíček played guitar and Jiří Hrubeš was drumming. Further musicians were the ex-Elektrobus and ex-Expanze percussionist Naďa Vávrová as well as a seven-piece horn section. And there's of course Zdena Adamová, who sang lyrics by Pavel Vrba on most of the tracks.

Unlike the 1st LP, the album concept is rather uneven though. A little bit of pathetic pop here, a slice of hard rock there, homeopathic traces of jazz all over. Yet Prameny poznání (The Fountains Of Cognition) stands out as one of the only two instrumental tracks and as a straight funk jazz tune in almost Hancockish manner. This is Klapka at his funkiest. My other favorite would be A kámen tu nechám (And I'll Leave The Stone Here), a wicked funk rock song with Adamová's expressive vocals.

Klapka and Adamová emigrated to the U.S. in 1981. They are running a private music school nowadays.

---

He comes back

The Plastic People Of The Universe - Vrátí se [sample]
from album "Midnight Mouse (Půlnoční myš)", 1987, Freedonia 1436; also on CD "Půlnoční myš (PPU X.)", 2001, Globus Music 210219-2


original LP sleeve (front/back), front drawing by Karel Nepraš

After re-reading Milan Hlavsa's straight and honest autobiography (actually an interview by Jan Pelc) Bez ohňů je underground (Without Fire That's Underground, BFS 1992) I think it's time to introduce you to the funkier side of the Plastic People Of The Universe. It's not necessary to repeat the complete history of the group which has already been written elsewhere, and you will surely find even more if you use e.g. a well known search engine. Some background info is also available in my introduction to this blog. But for the lazy internet surfers here's a couple of basic data:

The Plastic People Of The Universe (PPU) were founded in 1968 by bass player Hlavsa (1951-2001) with his school friend, guitarist Jiří "Přemek" Števich. Their concept was a psychedelic band with mystical show elements, musically inspired by Velvet Underground, The Fugs or The Mothers Of Invention. They started to perform publicly in 1969. Their freaky show made such an impact on the music scene that they almost instantly received a professional license. Since the early 70s the core of the group consisted of Hlavsa, ex-Primitives Group Josef Janíček on keyboards and guitar, Jiří Kabeš on violin and guitar and the jazzman Vratislav Brabenec on reeds. When the communist authorities systematically began to destroy the active Czechoslovak rock scene, PPU initially even tried to pass the "requalification exams", obligatory for all musicians. Of course they failed due to their musically uncompromising attitude and from then on they were prohibited from playing in public all the way through until they officially disbanded in 1988. In 1976 Hlavsa with his band-mates, with their manager and "art director" Ivan Martin Jirous and with a couple of their friends were jailed solely for performing a private concert. That particular trial gave other Czech dissidents the impuls to form the Charta 77 organization, the first serious effort since 1968 to form an opposition against the communist regime. It needs to be stated, however, that according to Hlavsa, PPU were actually very apolitical; they simply only wanted to play their music. Some group members were forced to emigrate afterwards (e.g. Brabenec, Pavel Zajíček, but also Števich who already left PPU in the early 70s), others were systematically terrorized by the secret police over the years to come. Nevertheless, the group continued to work within their possibilities. They have managed to release a couple of albums on labels in Western Europe and in Canada, all of them clandestinely rehearsed and recorded in Czechoslovakia under conditions that certainly cannot be called ideal... (keep that in mind if you listen to any PPU recordings until 1988!)

Vrátí se (He Comes Back) comes from the PPU's last "illegal" album Midnight Mouse (Půlnoční myš), recorded in 1985 in Prague and released two years later by Freedonia Records (although in fact the true editor was Chris Cutler of the legendary Recommended Records). Hlavsa, PPU's exclusive composer and musical master mind, returned to writing short songs with much simpler structures than on earlier projects. The band also began to use more humorous lyrics, selected (but not written) by Václav Havel. There have used e.g. poems by German rhymer Christian Morgenstern (the title track) or, as in this song, absurd poems by Milan Nápravník: There he goes / He takes something from the corner / He puts it in a corner / He comes back / There he goes / He takes something from the corner... etc. And an interesting fact is that the first intention was to record an album with Marta Kubišová as PPU's lead singer; Kubišová herself was completely banned by the communist authorities since 1970 until 1989. Although they even started to rehearse together, later the idea was dropped for security reasons.

In the mid 1980s, when I was already living in Switzerland, I met some people from the PPU circuit, although none of them were from their then current line-up. For example in 1983 our family was in close contact with ex-guitarist Jiří Števich, with whom we visited a very funny meeting of Czech emigrants in Alsace, France. I was even performing there on a jam session that lasted the whole night until 7 a.m. - I was sixteen and it was, aside from playing street music, one of my first public appearances on stage. :)


jamming in the Alsace sun in 1983: Přemek Števich & myself

Another indirect personal connection to PPU, although coincidental, was the group's favorite pub in Prague: Klamovka (not the same venue as Klub Klamovka). In the 1970s I grew up in the surrounding quarter. Later, when I was visiting Prague in the 80s, I spent a lot of time (and beer) in that pub with my old school friends, often seeing the PPU members sitting at nearby tables. We never dared to contact them though. We knew that they were regularly observed by the secret police and we were scared that we might get into trouble or that the police wouldn't allow me to return to Switzerland anymore... (Don't even bother to visit the Klamovka pub today, by the way. The pub has been sold after the original owner retired and nowadays it's a boring and ugly family restaurant.)

Plastic People Of The Universe reunited in almost original line-up in 1997 for the 20th anniversary of Charta 77. Sadly, Milan Hlavsa passed away in 2001 due to cancer, aged mere 50. PPU with Brabenec, Janíček and Kabeš continue to play their music until present day, most recently they performed in Prague's National Theater (!) as a special feature in Tom Stoppard's play Rock'n'Roll.

Buy Plastic People CDs.

---

In the green memory

Hammel, Varga & Hladík - V zelenej pamäti [sample]

from album "Na II. programe sna", 1977, Opus 91160493


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Despite its name, this blog is not only about Czech music. When I started with the writing last year I simply didn't find any elegant way to include the Slovaks directly into the title - although a blog called e.g. Funky Slow Vac would have surely promised some quite funny content... :) So I hope my Slovak readers or fans of Slovak music are not offended when I'm not bringing more of their favorite stuff. I began to dive more deeply into the matter only a few years ago and there has existed probably more Slovak funkiness than I'll ever know.

One of my favorite Slovak artists of the 1970s is Pavol Hammel (1948), also known as the leader of Prúdy (The Jets), whom he founded as early as in 1963. In the late 60s and early 70s they were one of the top beat groups and Hammel became one of the busiest songwriters in the country. In fact, he was probably the most important figure on the rock side of pop music in Slovakia of the 1970s when "rock" was considered an evil word. Hammel recorded a couple of well received albums. Among them were the hippiesque Prúdy debut Zvonky zvonte (Ring Bells Ring) which holds the unofficial title "Slovak Sgt. Pepper", the conceptual fairy-tale Šlehačková princezna (The Cream Princess), the successful pop album Hráč (The Player), or the more progressive Zelená pošta (The Green Mail) and Na II. programe sna (On The 2nd Channel Of A Dream).

The latter two LPs were recorded in collaboration with organist Marián Varga, yet another legend of Slovak rock, who used to be one of the early Prúdy members and who also played on their debut. In the seventies he gained international fame with his classical-rock combo Collegium Musicum. Another special guest was the Blue Effect leader Radim Hladík on guitar, thus both records were actually released as a Hammel/Varga/Hladík "supergroup". And while Zelená pošta from 1972 sounded more like a Varga concept album, Na II. programe sna consists of 13 short and compact songs in a more typical Hammel manner. Nonetheless, both records can be stylistically positioned somewhere between Gentle Giant, ELP and - of course - Collegium Musicum.

V zelenej pamäti (In The Green Memory) seems to be quite a unique track in Hammel's discography however - and for that matter also in Varga's or Hladík's one. I'm not aware of any other Hammel song with such strong latin rock influences. (And in fact, as far as I know, the only other Czechoslovak rock band who recorded a couple of latin rock songs in the 1970s were the František Ringo Čech Group featuring Jiří Schelinger with two pretty straight Santana cover versions. Soon to appear on Funky Czech-In, by the way!) So, this tune was cross-over world music before there even was world music: the East meets the West and the South; Slavic folk inspired melodies with a contemporary Chicano groove.

Besides of Hammel, Varga and Hladík, among the featured musicians on the record were the Collegium Musicum drummer Dušan Hájek, the Prúdy bassist Ivan Belák or guitarist Tomáš Rédey. The special guest on this track only was Fedor Letňan on the Fender Rhodes piano who's adding a lot to the song's overall latinesque touch. The album lyrics have been written exclusively by one of the most popular Slovak lyricists, Kamil Peteraj.

Like many other Hammel or Varga albums, Na II. programe sna remains quite popular until these days and therefore it's available on CD (a double CD with Zelená pošta). As for vinyl, you already know the usual sources...

---

Chain of fools

Komety – Chain Of Fools [sample]
from 7 inch single, 1968, Supraphon 0430547; also on 7 inch EP Artia/Supraphon 133043


original SP (a-side/b-side in a generic Supraphon sleeve)

This one is a true gem and probably the first Czechoslovak recording that really deserves the adjective “funky”. Don Covay’s composition Chain Of Fools was a huge hit all over the world, especially the 1967 version by Aretha Franklin which will still shake up any dancefloor even these days. In the 1960s many people in Czechoslovakia were secretly listening to Radio Luxembourg, thus it didn’t take very long until these chains hooked all “fools” behind the Iron Curtain as well. The most popular Czech rendition was surely the one by Marie Rottrová & Flamingo from their 1970 debut album and its later English export version This Is Our Soul respectively. And suprisingly, Flamingo already had this song on an LP before: a live cut that appeared in 1969 on the 2nd Czechoslovak Beat Festival 1968 compilation. That version was sung by Rottrová’s predecessor though, the young Hana Zagorová, who was then desperately trying to find a trace of soul in her rather thin voice.

Komety (The Comets) were the first Czechs who recorded it, however, and they did best by far in my opinion, with a mean and lowdown beat and lots of dirty fuzz guitar. The group was one of the legends of early Czechoslovak rock’n’roll and beat music. Among the founding teenage members were the guitarists Jiří Kaleš and Jan Reiner as well as the future Matadors organist Jan Obermajer (later known as Jan Farmer Obermayer) who used to blow the clarinet and the saxophone. They played their first gig on a 1959 (!) New Year’s Eve party in a Prague restaurant for which they had kidnapped Obermajer’s parents’ tube radio receiver and used it as an amplifier to plug in their home made “electric” guitars. The first years they played a lot of pub dance parties in Prague, thus their repertoire consisted of rock’n’roll and R&B hits as well as many popular dixieland standards; they also used to have a bunch of horn players. The fluctuation of the group members was immense in the first half of the decade. Like most Czechoslovak young men, also Kaleš and Reiner were forced to make a two-years break when they got drafted. But Komety kept on playing and they seemed to act as a good school for quite a number of teenagers who were about to become respected Czech rock musicians in the future: Radim Hladík, Jiří Helekal, Miroslav Žižka, Vladimír Mišík or another future Matador, Otto Bezloja, who was obviously one of the first in the country to play strictly on an electric bass guitar instead of the commonly used double bass or cello.

Unfortunately, Chain Of Fools, falsely credited to A. Francklin [sic] on the label, was the only vinyl that the group recorded in the sixties. The exact recording date seems unclear. While one source believes it was in late 1967, another one lists June 1968; the latter seems less likely to me though. Nevertheless, both possible dates fit to the era when R&B and soul began to spread over the Czech music scene. Kaleš and Reiner found the perfect frontman for that new “craze” in the legendary ex-Hell’s Devils singer Miloš Vokurka alias Reddy Kirken (not to be confused with a similarly named Czech pop group of the 1990s). At the drums still sat Miroslav Žižka who would soon move on to Apollobeat. Depending on the recording date, the bass was played either by Ivan Pešl or by Pavel Pešta who came in the first half of 1968 when Komety traded their bass player with the psychedelic Primitives Group. As for the b-side of the single, The House That Jack Built is a nice Alan Price cover but compared to the Chain it’s nothing earth-shaking. (Coincidentally, Flamingo and Rottrová later also recorded a song with the same name, albeit the completely different and funkier one from Aretha Franklin’s repertoire.)


Komety, promotional photo 1968: Miroslav Žižka, Jiří Kaleš, Miloš “Reddy” Vokurka, Pavel Pešta, Jan Reiner

Komety de facto disbanded in the summer of 1968 when Reddy left to replace Viktor Sodoma as the Matadors’ lead singer. Matadors (without Hladík and Obermajer though) then left Prague for a lucrative job in Munich, West Germany, to perform and record a German version of the musical Hair. Kaleš and Reiner continued as the New Comets with Vladimír Mišík taking over the lead vocals, but the timing wasn’t all that great due to the invasion of the Warshaw Pact armies in August 1968. The New Comets quitted before they even appeared in the public. Kaleš with Reiner switched to the “safe side” and became members of František Ringo Čech’s Shut Up orchestra, one of the Semafor Theatre’s house bands. Reddy on the other hand remained in Germany with the rest of the new Matadors crew including Bezloja. Later they were the founding members of the legendary international brass-rock combo Emergency, whose first drummer was the talented young German jazz-rocker (and vastly untalented yet eventually later enormously successful solo singer) Udo Lindenberg.

Komety sort of reincarnated in 1973 when Kaleš, Reiner and Obermajer (who was then an ex-George & Beatovens) got together again. As far as I can vaguely remember from my childhood days, that edition inclined more to pop music. But who in fact didn’t in those days...? That period has been documented on four singles, one of them was a popular cover version of Les Humphries’ Mexico. Komety disbanded for good in 1977. Their last lead singer supposedly was a certain guy named Michal Prokop...

(Credit for parts of the biography and trivia goes to the extensive Czech online article at popmuseum.cz, which itself is a transcript from a Rock&Pop 8/1996 magazine article by Aleš Opekar. The photo, the hint about Emergency and a couple of other details courtesy of my friend, neighbor and former Matadors roadie Josef Voříšek.)

---

Everybody

Olympic - Everybody [sample]
from album "Pták Rosomák", 1969, Supraphon 1130589 (stereo) or 0130589 (mono), Supraphon 100589-1311 (vinyl reissue 1990)
produced by Jaromír Tůma


original 1969 LP sleeve, 1990 reissue sleeve

Everybody seems to be dying lately... Last Sunday another friend and client of mine (actually he was more a friend of my mom) passed away after spending a couple of weeks in coma. Although he was of Slovak origin, he was a cook and not a musician - and therefore he's not the actual subject of this post. Nevertheless: Rest in peace, Karol!

Also last week, on Friday, an important personality from the Czechoslovak rock history passed away, too: Jan Antonín Pacák (1941-2007), also known as Jeňýk or Sorry, who was from 1965 until 1971 the drummer of the legendary beat group Olympic. He suffered from leukemia.

The story of Olympic is long so I'll tell it some other time. In short, they were likely the most important Czech group of the 1960s. Initially they played rock'n'roll and they worked as a backing combo for various pop singers. Two years later, in 1965 they were possibly the first rock band that began to compose, play and record exclusively their own material sung in Czech language instead of the ubiquitous English covers. And of course they were also the first rock group to have a full blown long play album, the legendary Želva (The Tortoise), released by Supraphon in 1968. Well, Želva was okay, but their second album from 1969 was even better: Pták Rosomák (The Wolverine Bird). Fuzz guitars, psychedelic soundscapes, sitars, freakbeats and a couple of timeless songs - an album that still sounds fresh 38 years later. The classic line-up consisted of Pacák on drums, the lyricist Pavel Chrastina on bass, Miroslav Berka on keyboards, the rhythm guitarist Ladislav Klein as well as the band leader, composer and lead singer Petr Janda.

Jan A. Pacák was not only the band's drummer during their best years, he was also the "comedian" of the group as well as their graphic designer. And being a graphic designer myself, I have to state that he was an excellent one! The first three LP covers were his work, including the great 1971 album Jedeme jedeme (We're Driving We're Driving). After leaving Olympic he concentrated on art painting, graphic design and book illustrations, for which he won numerous prizes. He returned to playing music only sporadically with several dixieland combos or in the 1990s for occasional Olympic revivals.

Despite its English title, the song Everybody is sung in Czech. Chrastina's lyrics tell a funny story of a guy who runs around and shouts "everybody" (hence the title). Not only does the track begin with Pacák's funky drum break, he's also the lead singer on it and he shows off some of his "expressive" scatting towards the end. This is definitely one of my favorite Olympic tunes.

Being one of the main Czech rock classics, the Pták Rosomák album is available on CD, of course. The original vinyl is a sought-after collectors item, however. It shows up on eBay regularly, but don't expect to get it cheap if it's in excellent condition. Auctions going beyond $50 are becoming the rule nowadays, even for the less attractive mono edition. But don't despair, I've got the original stereo issue for sale! And it's not even nearly that expensive. Of course, there's a caveat: the record is not in a great shape; obviously it must have been played a zillion times in those 36 years before it got into my greeeedy hands (I'll rather keep the 1990 reissue which I bought mint 17 years ago, as I'm not a fanatic collector of original pressings). In my WebShop I've got also a couple of original Olympic 45s from the 1960s for sale, just search there for "olympic". There's e.g. the seven-inch-only Strejček Jonatán, yet another tune sung by Pacák. And there's the ÜBER-rare original pressing of the Želva single, which is a slightly different version than any other subsequent release of the song. (The background story according to the official Olympic web site is actually quite funny: Towards the end of Želva when the group starts to sing the ad lib vocals, someone shouts "oh no". That version has been initially released on this very seven inch. But shortly thereafter, when the group was compiling their already recorded material for the debut LP, some Supraphon apparatchiks thought that the guys must have been singing the word "hovno" - which means "shit" in Czech. So they forced them to overdub the vocal track with a choir to make the alleged "bad word" disappear - which is what they did. That new version has then appeared on any release ever since while the very original master seems to be lost.)

P.S. I never met Jeňýk Pacák personally but he was a close friend of another friend of mine and my neighbor here in Switzerland, Pepík Voříšek. In the sixties Pepík used to be a roadie for another famous Czech rockers, the Matadors, and he used to hang around with all the guys from the Prague beat scene back then. He knows a lot of insider stories from those days, so his name might pop up on Funky Czech-In every now and then. I couldn't ask him to help me with this post though, because right now he's in Prague to partake on Pacák's funeral which took place yesterday.

Rest in peace, Jeňýk.

---

Can't buy me love

Eva Pilarová & Karel Vlach Orchestra - Can't Buy Me Love [sample]
from album "Zpívá Eva Pilarová", 1966, Supraphon DV10206; reissued for export as "The Fascinating Czech Star" between 1966 and 1974 on Supraphon SUA15719, 55719 or 1130667


original 1966 LP sleeve, 1966 export sleeve, 1972 reissue export sleeve

Now, let's move back into time even further and also away from any funk or soul for a moment, although we're staying quite close to jazz. The Czech female superstar of the first half of the sixties was Eva Pilarová. She grew up in Brno but like many other pop singers of that decade, her career kicked off in Jiří Suchý's original Semafor Theatre in Prague. Yet ironically, it was in fact also her talent that massively helped to establish the relatively experimental Semafor stage in 1960 in the first place.

Pilarová has never been fixated on a particular genre or style: jazz, swing, pop, twist, rock'n'roll, blues, ballads, R&B, beat - anything goes. She had already won various awards and recorded numerous single and EP sides [link to an external MS Word document] before her first 12" LP has been released in 1966. On that album entitled simply Zpívá Eva Pilarová (Eva Pilarová Sings) the Supraphon editors decided to show off her jazzy side, however, and that was definitely an excellent choice. After all, her public nickname was "Fitz-Pilarka" which she received as a reference to her famous US idol. Recorded in the era of relative political freedom between 1964 and 1966, the album presented two popular Lennon/McCartney songs and ten American standards. Summertime, Night And Day and Moonlight In Vermont were recorded with the Dance Orchestra of the Czechoslovak Radio alias TOČR/JOČR. Anything Goes, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Misty and others have been done with the Karel Vlach Orchestra. Vlach is also backing both Beatles covers, Can't Buy Me Love and I Should Have Known Better. The latter however disguises a weakness of many "old school" jazz drummers (here probably the legendary Vladimír Žižka) when it comes to playing a straight and simple binary rock beat: sometimes it fails to groove as such...

Can't Buy Me Love on the other hand captures both the singer and the band in an excellent state. It takes the Beatles' rhythm'n'blues tune one step further to swinging big band jazz, like if Lennon & McCartney never had anything else in mind. A classic. According to the list mentioned above, it has been originally released with Czech lyrics as Já čekám dál (I Keep On Waiting) on the Supraphon single 013663 - which seems to be a pretty rare item as far as I can say.

The album also used to be very popular abroad and it has been reissued for export a couple of times (see images), so it's not hard to find it on vinyl at all. As a matter of fact, I'm selling a copy of the Czech edition for 1 Euro only in my WebShop. There's a snag though: the first track (Moonlight In Vermont) ist damaged albeit still playable - but the rest of the record plays fine, i.e. "Very Good". Actually this very MP3 has been ripped from it last year, though I may have likely filtered some pops and crackles here and there. (In the meantime I have finally found a slightly better copy in Prague.) And if you search my shop for "pilarova" you will also find lots of her singles for sale; sometimes it happens that I buy a single without realizing that I already own it, other times I'm not sure and then I think "better to have two of them than none" and sometimes I find an album with the same tracks that I already have on singles. Hence, at least when it comes to Czech records, usually the reason for selling them is that I actually have those tracks already. Searching my WebShop for "czech" should list all Czech items, by the way.

More from Eva Pilarová is coming later this year, also some of her really funky stuff. Stay tuned!

---

This boy

Crystal - Tenhle kluk (Just One Look) [sample]
from SP Supraphon 013464, 1966


a Supraphon mid 1960s generic SP sleeve*

Well... 'nuff of the seventies prog-rock for a while. What we're gonna do right here is go back. Way back. Back into time. When one of the most popular Czech vocal girl groups were... the Krystalky!

Krystal or Crystal began to sparkle on the Prague music scene in 1962 as a young rock'n'roll combo founded by guitarist Jaroslav Nevrkla. One year later the group already gigged with a stable line-up that would last for the next few years of their existence: Nevrkla, the singer Jaroslav Jarosil (could it be the same guy who recently played cello with Ian Gillan?!), the lead guitarist Jiří Řádek, Lubor Drahota on bass and Vladimír Brodský on drums. And of course there were also the "Crystalettes" or Krystalky: Jiřina Menšlová, Irena Kubátová and Eva Fatková.**

Crystal recorded over a dozen of songs for radio and TV in the mid sixties. Tenhle kluk (This Boy), a cover version of Doris Troy's soul hit Just One Look with original Czech lyrics by Jiřina Menšlová, became their first single side in late 1966 and their biggest success. Nevrkla stated in 1967 that Crystal actually never were much into R&B or soul. Quite obviously they were covering the popular Hollies' version of the song. Still, thanks to the ladies the song preserves some of the original soul spirit for us "despite" its mersey-beat rework, including a slight and most likely unintended touch of ska on the rhythm guitar.

Tenhle kluk was one of the earlier pure beat sides on a Supraphon single played by an independent beat group; by "independent" I mean bands aside from the "usual suspects" and rock'n'roll veterans like Olympic, Mefisto or the Miroslav Kefurt and Karel Duba combos who all used to back many pop singers for Supraphon. In 1966 the "bigbít" explosion on records was yet to come. Apropos, just for the record (pun intended), on the flip side there's a ballad from the pop'n'swing softie Milan Chladil with the TOČR, but it's not worth to spend any more bytes on it or whatever.

Crystal (without the girls) recorded yet another single and an EP with popular beat and R&B cover versions in 1967 before they gave up. Menšlová on the other hand founded the female vocal duo Eminent who recorded a couple of Supraphon 45s in 1969 and 1970.

Notes:
* Coincidentally it's containing the today's track, but as far as I remember it wasn't the original sleeve when I bought the single a couple of years ago. But it could have easily been: Supraphon wasn't very picky about packaging, they just used to take what they had in stock. That applied even to numerous LP reissues until the early 1990s. (I plan to write an interlude later this year in order to shed more light onto the Supraphon record sleeves inferno.)

** The 7" label lists the names as Menšlová, Kubáková and Fatková whereas J. K. Sýkora's paperback book Czechoslovak Beat Music 67 (Panton 1968) spells them as Menčlová, Kubátová and Fadková. Since the almost 40 years old article supposedly was a transcript of a telephone interview with Nevrkla, Sýkora might have had misspelled some of the names. On the other hand, the Supraphon "empire" didn't care about correct name spelling in way too many other cases either, so who knows...? The unofficial Czech rock discographers M. Balák and J. Kytnar (Československý rock na gramofonových deskách, Indies 1998) are even pointing out that the text on the very first pressing had been spelled even more absurdely (thus turning it possibly into an interesting collector item).

---

Half Czech-in, part 2: Zulu Stomp

Steve Grossman - Zulu Stomp [sample]
from album "Some Shapes To Come", 1974, P.M. Records PMR-002
produced by Gene Perla


original LP sleeve

The second entry in my Half Czech-In sub-series introduces the first solo album by the U.S. saxophonist Steve Grossman (1951) who was at this young age already an ex-Miles Davis soloist. The Czech part belongs to his pianist Jan Hammer jr. (1948), probably the commercially most successful Czech musician of the late 20th century worldwide. Two words: Miami Vice. (I can't add much more to that topic anyway. I disliked the series 20 years ago and I'm pretty sure they didn't become any better over the years. Let alone the horrible soundtrack. Now pardon me while I'm off to the bathroom...)

Hammer jr. was already considered a huge talent in the 1960s Czechoslovakia. His father Jan Hammer sr. was a well known jazz musicians and his mother Vlasta Průchová was an even better known singer, in fact she was the grande dame of Czechoslovak jazz. Junior's first record appearance was on a 1964 Supraphon jazz compilation, a live recording from 1962 (!) with the Junior Trio, his bandmates were then the teenage brothers Miroslav and Alan Vitouš on double bass and drums respectively. In 1967 he composed the soundtrack for the "pop fairy-tale" Šíleně smutná princezna (The Princess Sad Like Crazy) with singers Helena Vondráčková and Václav Neckář in the main roles. In 1968 Hammer jr. emigrated to West Germany, released his first solo album Maliny Maliny on MPS and soon thereafter he headed over to the U.S. where he studied on the Berklee College of Music. In the early seventies he began to work as a sideman, for example for drummer Elvin Jones where he met Grossman, Gene Perla and Don Alias. In 1971 he joined the famous Mahavishnu Orchestra led by John McLaughlin, later he played on Billy Cobham's classic Spectrum, he also recorded with Jeff Beck, Stanley Clarke, Carlos Santana and many others. The ex-Jones rhythm section continued to work together through the seventies as well, they played e.g. with the flutist Jeremy Steig on Energy (a.k.a. Fusion). To make a long story short, Hammer jr. became a busy guy.

Some Shapes To Come is a fine little fusion album on the edge between funk, jazz-rock and free-jazz. The recordings were made on three days in September 1973, their spirit is pretty raw and dirty. Zulu Stomp, the third track of the album, kicks off with a nasty and funky drum groove. No wonder, the tune was composed by the drummer and percussionist Don Alias. In comes Hammer's Moog and Perla's bass playing a catchy unisono riff, followed by a straight and simple saxophon theme. Hammer then takes off with a spaced out Moog solo. Yeah, that's the classic modal funk jazz mood of the early seventies. Gettin' down with the Zulu stomp... baby!

Some Shapes To Come is for sale in my record store right now; for my personal taste there's just a little too much free-jazz on the album. I'm also selling other Jan Hammer albums: one from 1979 called simply Hammer which is a straight pop-rock record (audio samples); once someone gave it to me and unlike the Grossman LP you can have it really cheap. Then there are also Lenny White and Joni Mitchell LPs with Hammer's participation. Czech them out, just search for "hammer" (you may ignore Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer popping up along).

---

What's preventing me...

Bohemia - Co mi brání [sample]
from 7 inch SP "Co mi brání", 1977, Panton 440625 (Disco Serie); also on the compilation album "Gong 4", 1977, Panton 110701
produced by Vladimír Mertlík


original SP sleeve & the compilation LP sleeve

After the "off-topic" entry from last week let's continue with the regular schedule. You see, usually I write my articles a couple of weeks in advance. That comes in handy at the moment because as you can easily guess from the last post, I definitely wasn't in the mood for any new funky czech-ins yet...

So... two weeks ago I have mentioned Bohemia as one of the Flamengo follow-up groups. Bohemia was founded in 1975 by saxophonist Jan Kubík and bass player Vladimír Kulhánek, along with the singer and keyboarder Lešek Semelka who came from Radim Hladík's Blue Effect (a.k.a. Modrý Efekt). These "old cats" were later joined by the jazz-rock youngsters Michal Pavlíček on guitar, Pavel Trnavský on drums as well as the omnipresent conga master Jiří Tomek as a special guest. In 1977 Semelka has been replaced by Jan Hála though. The group sound oscillated somewhere between highbrow jazz-rock and art-rock pathos with slight traces of disco and slavic folk. Most of the material was penned by Kubík, the lyrics on the vocal tracks usually came from Pavel Vrba.

The single Co mi brání (What's Preventing Me) appeared in the Disco Serie of the Panton label. That was a logical choice as it's probably the Bohemia track with the highest "statistical danceability" (as Frank Zappa would have said). Both sides were composed by Semelka who, unlike Kubík, tended more towards pop music. The b-side contains nothing worth mentioning on this blog though. Interestingly, at that time the whole group was also involved in the Svoboda brothers' studio project Discobolos, who already had a cameo appearance on Funky Czech-In as the backing band for a Jiří Schelinger song; Discobolos used to be gettin' down pretty funky and I'll bring them back very soon.

The inclusion of Co mi brání on the Panton Gong 4 compilation probably shouldn't be judged as a high honor for Bohemia, however. On the album there's another slightly danceable track by fellow jazz-rockers Abraxas, a nice folk-rock song by Hana & Petr Ulrych, a neat drum break in a silly bubble-gum tune from ex-Flamingo co-singer Petr Němec, as well as a full-blown Czech version of Boney M's Daddy Cool sung by Josef Laufer. But the rest of the LP will be highly irrelevant to you if you share my musical taste, and some songs are even so stupid that it's almost offending. I wonder if another 1977 Bohemia 7 inch, Pavlíček's King Gong from the Panton Mini Jazz Klub series, sort of reflected or even parodied this rather unpleasant fact. Unfortunately I don't own it so I can't tell you, thus it's just a guess from the track name... (Just for the record, the Panton Gong series ran from the mid 70s until the late 80s. Like most Czechoslovak pop compilations from that era, they are not really worth getting unless you're a real hardcore collector or if you are looking for one of the very few rock or disco tracks on it. I can only "recommend" Gong 2, 3, 4 and 6, but mostly only for the Czech versions of a couple of 1970s international disco hits which might be hard to find elsewhere. I might post some of them in the future.)

Bohemia released their debut art-jazz-rock album Zrnko písku (Grain Of Sand) in 1978 and disbanded shortly thereafter. Semelka successfully re-joined Blue Effect (then known as M Efekt) and became a pop singer. The rest of the group continued to work as session musicians. The latest record with Kubík's participation that I own is the ex-C&K Vocal singer Luboš Pospíšil's debut solo album from 1982; Kubík eventually emigrated and I couldn't find out yet what he's been doing ever since. Trnavský played with Jazz Q as well as with Jana Kratochvílová before both emigrated to the UK. Pavlíček worked with Kratochvílová, too, also with Mahagon, Jan Spálený, Eva Olmerová or Jana Koubková. In 1980 he (and initially also Tomek) joined the new wave edition of Michael Kocáb's legendary Pražský Výběr with whom he "co-wrote" the Czechoslovak popular music history and became one of the most original and influential Czech rock guitarists until these days. (I mean, in the mid 80s he surely influenced me a lot!)

---

On and on (The chicken, part 2)

Flamengo - Stále dál [sample]
from album "Kuře v hodinkách", 1972, Supraphon 0131287 (mono) or 1131287 (stereo) and 101287-1311 (reissue 1990); also on CD "Kuře v hodinkách", 1972/1998, Bonton 4910532; SP "Kuře v hodinkách", 1972, Supraphon 0431453; CD compilation "Paní v černém (singly 1967-1972)", 2003, Supraphon SU5496-2311
produced by Hynek Žalčík


original 1972 LP sleeve & 1990 LP/CD reissue sleeve

"... stále dál, stále dál, stále dál. Slepeckou holí mám spočítaný jak dlouhý je mý bytí, který je mi jednou daný."

"... on and on, on and on, on and on. With a blindman's white stick I've added up how long will my being last that I've been given."

Every time I hear this chorus I shiver all over. Ever since I've heard the song for the first time some seventeen years ago. So I was quite surprised to read that even the old sound engineer who originally recorded it also feels the same way after 35 years. Anyway, here we go with the part 2 of the Flamengo story:

The basic idea behind the album Kuře v hodinkách (The Chicken In The Wrist-Watch) was to bring progressive contemporary Czech rock music to the public. While it may sound as a simple matter of fact to you today, it wasn't an easy task in communist Czechoslovakia of the early 1970s; read my introduction for more background. The young Supraphon producer Hynek Žalčík (1949-2005) came with the nearly "subversive" idea to ask the poet Josef Kainar (1917-1971) to write the lyrics for the album. The "Kainar plan" was based on Kainar's communist party membership, although he was definitely not very popular anymore by his conservative and "normalized" party comrades. But at that time he also was the chairman of the Czechoslovak Writers Association and a widely respected writer who also used to write blues songs. Besides of that, one year earlier they have already successfully collaborated on the Michal Prokop & Framus Five jazz-rock suite Město Er. So that trick helped Žalčík once again to convince the responsible Supraphon bureaucrats to release a rock album played by a bunch of untamed long-haired freaks who would have been de facto and de jure (i.e. according to communist jurisdiction) considered potential enemies of the state. The compromise was that the record was originally sold solely to the members of the "Czechoslovak Hi-Fi Club" in a total edition of only a few thousand copies. A political decision of course: Flamengo would have sold easily tens if not even hundreds of thousands copies over the years to all the other rock-hungry long-haired freaks out there. But any attempts for an official re-edition have been rejected by the authorities until 1989. Only two tracks (Já a dým, Kuře v hodinkách) re-appeared on the scarce Josef Kainar tribute compilation Obelisk in the late seventies; again thanks to Žalčík's tireless effort.

Stále dál (On And On) is the only track from Kuře v hodinkách that isn't sung by Vladimír Mišík. Instead, it's the voice of organist Ivan Khunt and it's the last of only three Flamengo songs they ever recorded with him as the lead singer. Besides of the short instrumental intro track it's also the album's only song without Kainar's lyrics since Kainar passed away in November 1971. The words then came from producer and occasional lyricist Žalčík, the composition was the work of the "triple K" Khunt, Kubík and Kulhánek. Yet this song is a bomb and then some.

Due to the increasing communist oppression on rock groups in general, Flamengo eventually disbanded before the album has been finally released in 1973. The nucleus of the group along with Žalčík helped to record Dežo Ursiny's debut album Provisorium and they established the first issue of Energit (see this post). Khunt and Šedivý exiled soon thereafter which made any reissue of Kuře v hodinkách or any other record with their participation practically impossible. Guitarist Fořt started to work with the group of former jazz musicians Strýci (a.k.a. Šest strýců) for Helena Vondráčková, joined the Karel Gott orchestra and led his own session studio band Labyrint. It was also Labyrint with Kubík's and Kulhánek's participation who re-recorded Rám příštích obrazů and Doky vlaky hlad a boty for the C&K Vocal fantastic debut album Generace (Generation). Kubík and Kulhánek worked as session musicians here or there, in the mid seventies they co-founded the jazz-rock supergroup Bohemia. Kubík escaped to the West in the 80s, while Kulhánek eventually joined Mišík's Etc group. Mišík courageously kept on keeping on, on and on.

Nowadays there's a restaurant in Prague named after the album "Kuře v hodinkách". On their nicely designed web site there's a photo gallery with lots of pictures from Czech rock history. Czech it out.

Vinyl should be available on eBay or on Gemm (some sellers still confuse Flamengo with Flamingo though). Some of the records are incredibely rare so don't get shocked by the prices. But even the "über-rare" single Každou chvíli happens to be seen every now and then (although usually it's definitely way over my budget). Fortunately, the songs I've presented are available not only on the remastered edition of Kuře v hodinkách, but also on the ultimate Flamengo "singlology" Paní v černém (The Lady In Black - Singles 1967-1972). If you dig prog-rock, get the former. If it's fuzz guitars that makes your underpants wet, get the latter. If you just love music and you'd like show some respect for the involved musicians and producers and their exceptional work, get 'em all. On and on.

P.S. Kuře v hodinkách is one of the three albums that I would take with me on a desert island. Just for the record, the other two are Frank Zappa's Over-Nite Sensation as well as Mothership Connection by Parliament. On those three records every single note makes me feel good. (Oh, and if I had any chance to take a fourth one with me, it would be SAHB Stories by the Sensational Alex Harvey Band... :)

P.P.S. Tell me about your three desert island albums in the comments -->

---

Every while (The chicken, part 1)

Flamengo - Každou chvíli [sample]
from CD compilation "Paní v černém (singly 1967-1972)", 2003, Supraphon SU5496-2311; originally from SP "Každou chvíli", 1971, Supraphon 0431214; also a bonus track on CD "Kuře v hodinkách", 1972/1998, Bonton 4910532
produced by Hynek Žalčík


CD compilation booklet

Vladimír Mišík, one of my most favorite singers, has already got an entry on Funky Czech-In where I have promised to bring him back with a Flamengo post. Well, this band is just too important for the Czech music history in order to squeeze its story into a short single weblog post, so here's part one. Oh, and keep in mind: Flamengo is NOT Flamingo!

Flamengo's biggest problem probably was the frequent exchange of their lead singers. Not that any of them guys were not good enough. Actually the opposite is true, each one was a personality on his or her own. It just didn't really help to build up the group's profile over the years. Thus, among the group members since 1966 were Viktor Sodoma (who left for the Matadors in 1967), Karel Kahovec (originally a Matador himself), Petr Novák (earlier and then again later with George & Beatovens), the former early sixties teenage idol Pavel Sedláček, the English lady Joan Duggan (who later joined Jazz Q along with the original Flamengo guitarist František Francl), the organist Ivan Khunt, for a very short time and unfortunately undocumented on records even the ex-Framus Five Michal Prokop and finally since 1971 Mišík, who himself already passed through the Matadors, George & Beatovens (as their lead guitarist for a couple of months!) and who had just been fired from Matadors' follow-up Blue Effect.

Similarly complicated would be the attempt to describe Flamengo's musical range. The early beat songs by Petr Novák already sound much like Petr Novák on his later G&B records. Kahovec on the other hand had his unique voice and song-writing style, too. But by 1968 the Czech scene became "infected" with R&B and soul and Flamengo again returned to playing a lot of cover versions, now even real funk by James Brown (coming soon on this channel, stay tuned). Then with the arrival of Khunt and Duggan in 1969 they focused on dark blues-rock. And the final phase nicely fits into the progressive rock drawer. So there you have the dilemma: one name, five different bands...

Supraphon released as much as 16 Flamengo songs on 7" sides; some songs appeared on SPs with another artist on the flip side - a usual praxis in the sixties. It was however the final line-up that was going to make history when they recorded their only full album in 1971-1972, the masterpiece Kuře v hodinkách (The Chicken In The Wrist-Watch), the undisputed monument of Czechoslovak popular music. Flamengo's legendary last edition consisted of Mišík, Ivan Khunt (1947-2002), the composer and arranger Jan Kubík on saxes and flutes, the virtuoso bass player Vladimír Kulhánek, one of the best Czech rock drummers of his generation, the ex-Primitives Group Jaroslav Erno Šedivý as well as the last remaining original member, Pavel Fořt, who switched from bass back to lead guitar in 1970.

Každou chvíli (Every While) as well as the similarly sounding b-side Týden v elektrickém městě (A Week In The Electric City) both predate the album sessions by only a few months. You can already clearly identify the "trademarked" super-compact and funky sound that determines the later LP. Mišík's singing has also grown up since his departure from Blue Effect (as captured on the psychedelic album Meditace). This is already the voice that was going to have a huge impact on a whole new generation of young rock music fans as well as future musicians, myself included.

And then there's the drums. One of the sound engineers in the Supraphon studio Dejvice was Petr Kocfelda. He has been recently asked in an interview (in Czech, part 1, part 2) how they actually managed to achieve such a steady drum sound and what compressor or limiter effects were they using then. "None," he replied. The drummer Erno Šedivý obviously used to hit the skins so hard that they only had to adjust the mic inputs to the peak level which then remained pretty constant throughout the sessions. As a matter of fact, at that time the recording studio in Prague-Dejvice was still using a relatively old 4-track Studer machine along with a custom built tube mixing console which made the producers, engineers and especially the service technicians as much a part of the creative process as the musicians themselves. (Er, can the GarageBand generation still follow me what I'm talking about...? ;)

To be continued...

---

Return of Gemini

Mefisto - Návrat Gemini [sample]
from 10 inch compilation album "Hity Karla Svobody", 1968, Supraphon 0230414


original 1968 compilation sleeve (front/back)

Last sunday the 68 years old composer Karel Svoboda committed suicide, without any obvious or publicly known motive as it seems. I'm definitely not a friend of the vast majority of his immense work, but being probably the only Czech retro music blog writing in an easy to understand international language - i.e. not in Czech - I thought I might still honor him with one of his earliest and internationally less known compositions. Svoboda has been featured on Funky Czech-In already: for Marie Rottrová & Flamingo he wrote the outstanding pop-funk tune Kruh světla (Ring Of Light) (which I've translated falsely as Circle Of Light though), for Jiří Schelinger he wrote Závodník (The Racer) and likely he was involved in its production, too.

Mefisto, founded by Svoboda with the saxophonist František Kopal in 1963, used to be one of the first professional beat groups in Czechoslovakia. From the beginning they inclined more to the easy listening genre and that attitude secured them a lot of gigs and recording jobs with major Czech pop artists at times when a beat rhythm section seemed acceptable to the conservative Supraphon producers. Among their members were the later Golden Kids bass player and successful lyricist Zdeněk Rytíř or the guitarist Otakar Jahn. But Svoboda soon realized that he's able to compose pop hits and schlagers à go-go, thus for most parts he left the beat and rock behind. In the 1970s he began to write movie and TV scores, later also musicals. Among his best known work is certainly the movie soundtrack for Tři oříšky pro Popelku (Three Hazelnuts For Cinderella). He composed lots of hits for Karel Gott, like Lady Carneval or Včelka Mája (Biene Maja/Maya The Bee). And of course in the 70s and 80s there were dozens of other Svoboda-penned pop tunes and scores that made us want to puke each time we turned on the Czechoslovak socialistic radio or TV. Yeah, Mefisto. Nomen est omen...

Svoboda's Návrat Gemini (Return Of Gemini) from 1966 isn't exactly funky, at least not in the intended sense. Instead it sounds more like a Shadows rip-off that's a bit late to the party. But it's still adequate enough for this post since there aren't many Mefisto solo recordings anyway and this one in particular features Svoboda's piano quite prominently. It's not a strict instrumental, the cheesy background vocals were added by the ubiquitous Lubomír Pánek Singers & Swingers (a.k.a. Sbor Lubomíra Pánka) who appeared possibly on more Czech records than anyone else in the history of recorded music; just in my hopelessly incomplete collection of Czech vinyl Pánek shows up on not less than 116 entries in my database.

Návrat Gemini has been originally released as a single in West Germany on the Montana label. On the 10 inch mono compilation Hity Karla Svobody (Karel Svoboda's Hits) from 1968 it sort of represents the early Mefisto era. The other seven songs are Svoboda's best early compositions for other artists: Depeše, Nechte zvony znít and Tajuplnej hráč for Marta Kubišová, Zimní království for Yvonne Přenosilová or the nice beat ballad Stín katedrál for Helena Vondráčková and Václav Neckář. All of that stuff has been reissued on the original artists' CDs, Návrat Gemini is available on this compilation so get it if you seriously need it.

Weekend

Petr & Pavel ORM - Víkend [sample]
from album "Discofil", 1979, Panton 81130080
produced by ORM & Svatoslav Rychlý


original LP sleeve

Petr & Pavel Orm are by no means brothers. The keyboarder and the guitarist are known as Petr Dvořák and Pavel Růžička, respectively. Originally they were members of the Jan Václavík orchestra, a.k.a. Golem, who used to back the controversial pop singer Josef Laufer, among others. In the late seventies the multi-instrumental duo started to record for the Panton label as ORM.

Their first album Discofil (The Discophile) is a compactly sounding collection of twelve rather short disco tracks. Some of them are pretty cheesy, usually the vocal ones. Others may even come quite funky when lots of Fender Rhodes piano was used, like in Peklo and Riviera. The tracks are not overproduced, only seven of them were recorded with the help from Golem drummer Vladimír Grunt (ex-Atlantis) and the Framus 5 bass player Michal Bláha. An uncredited female choir appears here and there, too. The credits mention the use of an "ORM rytmic computer", what ever that was; Czechs are quite known for their creative home-made inventions. The influence of European electro-disco becomes clear by inclusion of the only cover version, Magic Fly by Space, which is neither much better nor much worse than the original (depending on your actual opinion on the original in the first place).

In the eighties ORM were the team behind the popular female disco duo Kamélie, producing synth-pop crap en masse. But in any case they definitely belong to the pioneers of electronic pop music in Czechoslovakia, along with Alexander Goldscheider (a.k.a. Odysseus) and Alojz Bouda.

By the way, Víkend is a Czech word that has been adopted directly from the English language and means, you guessed it, "weekend". Have a nice one...

A day in the life

Peter Lipa & the Blues Five - A Day In The Life [sample]
from compilation "Beatová horúčka 1965-70", 1989, Opus 90132113


original 1989 compilation LP sleeve

Last November I've promised you another track from the Slovak compilation Beatová horúčka 1965-70 (Beat Fever) and here it is. A well known Beatles song that originally closes their Sgt. Pepper album; yes, the one with the never ending final chord.

Now, on to the Blues Five version from 1969. It seems that obviously everyone else who has ever covered this song - including such experienced funksters like War, Brian Auger or Peter Herbolzheimer - didn't dare to go too far beyond the original psychedelic arrangement, let alone the given chord progressions. On the other hand, Peter Lipa and his gang turned the song upside down and all around, digging so much funk out of the Blackburn, Lancashire potholes that you could not only fill the Royal Albert Hall with it, but the Gherkin as well. From the first crispy snare hit on, the song keeps on rolling, the Hammond keeps on boiling and Lipa is singing his ass off. Interestingly, according to an online interview with Lipa (in Polish!) they were actually reworking a Wes Montgomery version, while another source (a Slovak article by Fedor Frešo about Marián Varga) points out that it was only a "rip-off" of Brian Auger's live arrangement he played on his Slovakia gig in 1968... Whose nose, as my wife would say.

Whatever it was, I won't go much into further trivia. You can learn a lot about Lipa directly from the English section of his official web site. Just a few interesting highlights: Lipa's long discography includes many Bratislava Jazz Days live compilations, he is also one of the festival initiators. In the 1980s he worked intensively with ex-Energit and ex-Framus Five guitarist Luboš Andršt whom we already met on this blog. And in 2002 Lipa recorded a nice blues-jazz album full of Beatles songs, albeit without A Day In The Life.

The Beatová horúčka compilation occasionally pops up on eBay and it's still available overthere. CDs by Peter Lipa are available online and on eBay, too. A Day In The Life also appeared on the out-of-print Bonton CD compilation Bigbít 1968-1969, however that was most likely the live version from the 2nd Czechoslovak Beat Festival in December 1968 in Prague which was originally released on a Panton EP. On cojeco.cz you can listen to a short snippet of it. Last but not least, I have the rare double LP compilation Bratislava Jazz Days 1981 for sale, with Lipa singing the Ray Charles standard Tell All The World About You.

Without her

Helena Vondráčková & TOČR - Jsem bůh i ďábel (Without Her) [sample]
from album "Ostrov Heleny", 1970, Supraphon 1130839
produced by Bohuslav Ondráček & Vladimír Popelka
Václav Týfa & Konstelace Josefa Vobruby - Bez ní (Without Her) [sample]
from album "Václav Týfa", 1975, Supraphon 1131599
produced by Oskar Jelínek, arranged by Vladimír Popelka


original LP sleeves (Vondráčková/Týfa)

Here is a "double feature" with a "triple connection": both tracks were conducted by the TOČR leader Josef Vobruba (1932-1982), co-produced by arranger Vladimír Popelka and both are cover versions of the same song, Without Her by Harry Nilsson. Nilsson's original from 1967 is a very minimalistic version with its cello accompaniment, other mostly softly arranged renditions have been recorded for example by Blood Sweat & Tears, George Benson or Glen Campbell. Besides of his songwriting, Nilsson also became quite "famous" as John Lennon's drinking buddy in the mid seventies.

Regular readers will surely remember my Vondráčková entry from last December when we dived deep into her jazz-rock phase. Jsem bůh i ďábel (I'm The God As Well As The Devil) is not nearly as funky as that. It's pure easy listening pop with a very light touch of bossa nova. The "funkiness" lies more in tiny details as well as in the atmosphere. I like in particular the brilliant dynamic arrangement which precisely illustrates the excellent original Czech lyrics by old maestro Zdeněk Borovec. The story is a confession of a seductress. At one moment she's soft and lovely, the next second she burns you with passion. She's the god and the devil, Cain and Abel in one person and she promises you both heaven and hell at the same time. Yeah guys, there's definitely no hypocrisy on the lady's part since you've been warned. This here is the hottest version of Without Her that I know.

Jsem bůh i ďábel comes from Helena Vondráčková's second solo LP Ostrov Heleny (The Island Of Helena, not to be confused with her English export album The Isle Of Helena), recorded between 1969 and 1970. It's the album's only track that has been produced with the TOČR (a.k.a. JOČR) orchestra. All other songs are credited to the Golden Kids Orchestra & Chorus - which of course includes Marta Kubišová and Václav Neckář, for more info on them check out my first Marta Kubišová post (and more is about to come later this year). Ostrov Heleny is a much softer album than Kubišová's classic Songy a balady or both Golden Kids LPs, however. You can buy a CD online including 9 singles only bonus tracks or get the vinyl from a Czech auction site. Some singles are still available in my web shop, too, if you search there for "vondr".

~

The trumpet player Václav Týfa (1943) oscillates between pop and jazz. His career started in 1962 in the Karel Vlach Orchestra. In the early 1970s he switched to the backing band of Karel Gott, the Ladislav Štaidl Orchestra. At the same time he also worked with Josef Vobruba's TOČR/JOČR. In 1974 Vobruba set up and conducted an all-star album project named Konstelace (The Constellation). The member list on this first effort is indeed stellar: besides of Týfa there are Radim Hladík (Blue Effect, ex-Matadors) and Petr Janda (Olympic) on guitars, Jiří Urbánek (Flamingo) on bass, Rudolf Rokl (Štaidl Orchestra) on Hammond organ, JOČR members Zdeněk Dvořák on guitar, Karel Růžička on piano and drummer Josef Vejvoda, Miroslav Kokoška (Czech TV Orchestra) on marimba, the flutist Jiří Válek (who got to record his own Konstelace solo album two years later) as well as jazzmen Ivan Dominák and Jiří Kysilka on percussions and Karel Velebný on vibes. Obviously the original concept of the project was to produce a series of albums that would feature exceptional soloists who were working in contemporary Czech pop/jazz orchestras at that time. But as far as I know, no other Konstelace albums besides of Týfa's and Válek's have ever been released.

Although Týfa later recorded lots of solo tunes for radio, TV or for movie soundtracks, this LP actually remains his only solo record to this day. He blows his trumpet in many shades, using lots of overdubs and sound effects, even a wah-wah pedal on some tracks. Side one is an original jazz-rock suite in six parts, Loutna česká (The Czech Lute), written by the arranger and co-producer Vladimír Popelka. On side two Popelka selected and re-arranged six tunes from the Blood Sweat & Tears repertoire like Mama Gets High, So Long Dixie, or the obligate Spinning Wheel which fortunately received an unusual jazzy treatment in 6/8. Without Her on the other hand has been funked up a lot, although I could live fine without the cheesy vocal parts since all other tracks sound fine without them, too...

These days Týfa works again with the Czech Radio Big Band or with the Vlach Orchestra and he can be heard on various CDs, too. The Konstelace vinyl album is really tough to find online, unless you are willing to pay real BIG bucks to these Japanese guys. But while the record may be "über-rare" in Japan, in Prague I've seen it many times for a Euro or two.

Rosemary

Hana & Petr Ulrychovi - Rozmarýn [sample]

from album "13 HP", 1971, Supraphon 1130888
produced by Michael Prostějovský, arranged by Ota Petřina, conducted by Josef Vobruba


original LP sleeve

Sixties stuff seems to be quite popular among you, dear readers, so here's another one. Sure, I know that this album has been released in 1971. But it was recorded one year earlier which still puts it mathematically into the 1960s, doesn't it. (You do know that, don't you? Or were you one of those fools who were celebrating the 3rd millennium one year too early...?!) And even then, due to technical and political circumstances we used to be behind a few years anyway, so don't be too picky about the exact recording dates here...

Petr Ulrych (1944) from Brno and his five years younger sister Hana were already experienced performers when the debut album 13 HP finally came out. With their group Atlantis (not to be confused with the mid 70s German soul-rock group of the same name) they have recorded a couple of successful single sides in the late 60s. Petr's songs were at the top of the unofficial Czech radio charts. Unfortunately, the planned very first long player, the ambitious folk-jazz-rock opera Odyssea from 1969 (recorded only a few months later than the world's first "official" rock opera, Tommy by The Who!) didn't pass the 1970 communist censorship anymore and it has never been released until 1990!

13 HP is mainly a folk-rock album with influences from soul and Moravian ethnic folk. It has been produced in collaboration with the ex-Golden Kids guitarist, arranger and songwriter Ota Petřina and the Dance/Jazz Orchestra of the Czechoslovak Radio (TOČR/JOČR). Only four out of ten songs were written by Ulrych, the producers probably wanted to be on the safe side regarding their previous experience with the raging censors. But that certainly doesn't make it a bad LP at all.

Rozmarýn (Rosemary - the herb) is one of the original Ulrych tracks, a driving rock song with loud drums, swirling Hammond organ and Petřina's screaming lead guitar, peppered with a precise horn section and dramatic strings. The lyrics talk about the upcoming spring time that might heal open wounds from the past, but the mood remains melancholic, not to say highly pessimistic. After all, the Prague Spring was over and everybody knew it. I really wonder how Ulrych's lyrics managed to pass the censorship this time.

As a matter of fact, Hana Ulrychová doesn't seem to be featured on this song at all. But don't despair, dear fan of singin'n'swingin' sixties girls. Her time on Funky Czech-In is going to come too, perhaps with my other favorite tune from the album, the up-tempo soul song A co má bejt (So What). In other words: the Ulrych/Atlantis legend is going to be continued.

Rozmarýn has been included on the Ulrychs' recent best-of-compilation, but be aware that the double CD logically focuses on their later Moravian world music works; so perhaps you might want to check out a few samples first. Some vinyl is usually available on eBay, but if you'd like to own this particular album you'd better google and buy from Czech sellers. You can also buy two nice 45s from my own online record store, just search there for "ulrych" (items no. 1219 and 1232).

Half Czech-in, part 1

Emil Viklický - Trochu funky (The Funky Way) [sample]
from album "Okno", 1980, Supraphon 11152754
composed & arranged by Emil Viklický, produced by Antonín Matzner


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Welcome to the Half Czech-In, an irregular "sub-series" of Funky Czech-In posts, devoted to international funky outings with some sort of Czech or Slovak participation - or vice versa. There are quite a lot of records to choose from, so besides of less known or even absolutely obscure names (Gyulli Chokheli, anyone?) you can also expect to meet renown artists like Jan Hammer jr. or Miroslav Vitouš as well as a couple of their even more famous international colleagues.

This first example comes from the second solo album by jazz pianist Emil Viklický. You might have already seen that name on this blog, he was the keyboard player on Energit's first record. He played with Karel Velebný's SHQ and was a member of the legendary Klávesová konkláva (The Keyboard Conclave); both groups will be covered in future posts. For more details check out Viklický's English biography. Besides of that, he was also one of those few lucky guys who were allowed to study in the U.S. in the seventies, where he spent a year at the Berklee College of Music. Back in Prague, in the summer of 1979 some of his new friends from the States dropped by to say hello: guitarist Bill Frisell, bass player Kermit Driscoll and the ex-Stark Reality drummer Vinton Johnson. The result of that short visit was the album Okno (The Window).

"Trochu funky" actually means "A little bit funky". But I'd say that the track is funky a lot, thus the English title The Funky Way seems more appropriate. One highlight is certainly Johnson's extensive drumming. Watch out for two long breaks which should please all samplaficionados out there. On the other hand, Viklický's melodies borrow a lot from Moravian ethnic music and that joyous nature fits quite well with the disco beat. And although I don't find the tune arrangement and structure as exciting as it could have possibly been, this kind of fusion makes it still quite distinguishable from similar international disco-jazz productions of that era. The rest of album continues in a similar funky fusion vein, except for one ballad.

The record doesn't fall behind if you compare it with its more famous western competition, although at some points it sounds slightly "underproduced" to me. You should check out this Bill Frisell discography page, it tells Viklický's background story why the recording sessions had to be finished in less than two days; it may sound quite absurd to you, but those things that he's talking about were typical for the era of normalized socialism... Anyway, some more clever arrangements or perhaps a horn section here and there wouldn't have hurt. Because in fact, Trochu funky has been re-recorded by Kamil Hála with the Czechoslovak Radio Jazz Orchestra (JOČR) in 1982, entitled Quasi opus pro big band č. 17, released by Panton on the obscure compilation series Matiné populární hudby (a.k.a. Týden nové tvorby). The big band arrangement definitely works, although in that tune the JOČR rhythm section sounds really tired in direct comparison to the original raw drive of the Johnson/Driscoll funk machine.

Okno is without doubt one of the funkiest original albums that ever came out on a Czechoslovak record label. The recordings have been reissued on CD in 1997, but as you might have guessed: deleted from the catalogues, not available for order, out of print. Sometimes it's still available on eBay though. I've also seen second hand vinyl quite cheap from Slovakia.

The girl on the broomstick

Petra Černocká & the Karel Vlach Orchestra - Saxana [sample]
from 7 inch SP "Dívka na koštěti", 1972, Supraphon 0431326, also on the compilation album "12 pro Mladý svět", 1972, Supraphon 1131294
conducted by Karel Vlach, produced by Jiří Baur


original SP sleeve & the compilation LP sleeve

Dívka na koštěti (The Girl On The Broomstick) is one of my favorite Czech fairy-tale movies from the 1970s. Actually, it's sort of a crossover genre because the director Václav Vorlíček was using elements from fairy-tales, fantasy and contemporary slapstick comedy, creating a fresh mix which still looks charming some 35 years later. I loved it then and I still love it now - in particular the lady who played the title role...

Petra Černocká (1949) is not an actor who sings but a singer who also used to act occasionally. She studied opera singing and piano on the Prague Conservatory. In 1967 she started to sing (and act) in the legendary Semafor Theatre. Her first record was her own song Ovečky (Little Sheep), recorded with a beat group of fellow conservatory students called Pastýři (The Shepherds). They recorded a couple of other 45s with folk-rock and pop tunes. In the early 1970s she joined the rock group Cardinals, but with the arrival of the "bubblegum-softie" Zdeněk Merta (from F.R. Čech's Shut Up Orchestra) the band soon transformed to Kardinálové and started to play and record dull pop and C&W music - thus slipping out of my funky focus anyway. As for acting, besides of small roles in various TV and movie productions, the young witch pupil character Saxana a.k.a. "the girl on the broomstick" was her first major role. She's nowhere to be seen singing in the movie though. According to a statement on her web site, originally she wasn't even considered to sing the title song either.

That tune from the movie, Saxana, remains Černocká's biggest hit and her signature song. It was composed by Angelo Michajlov with lyrics from Pavel Kopta. Michajlov was a Bulgarian who lived and studied music in Prague. Like Černocká, he also used to perform in the Semafor Theatre for some time. He wrote songs for Czech major pop artists like Marta Kubišová, Helena Vondráčková, Eva Pilarová or Václav Neckář. In the late sixties he began to work as a movie and TV score composer. Among his better known works were the scores for the popular 1980s children movie pictures Chobotnice z 2. patra (Octopuses From The 2nd Floor) or Lucie.

I have already briefly mentioned the Karel Vlach Orchestra as one of the best Czechoslovak big bands of the last century. That certainly applies if you dig swing, and the band history goes as far back as to the 1930s! Generally however, the orchestra's ouput wasn't necessarily funky in our sense; most of their recordings from the sixties on were anything else than progressive. Yet the boys in the band are still providing quite groovy backing on this particular track, although the overall production puts it rather closer to the "cheesy listening" genre. The 1970s orchestra line-up is unknown to me for most parts, but it's not unlikely that Michajlov himself was sitting at the piano.

The 7 inch record is the movie "soundtrack", although the b-side track, Georgie, has nothing to do with it (and it's even much closer to cheese anyway). The song Saxana is available on various Czech CD compilations as it was one of the most popular songs of the 70s in Czechoslovakia. The movie itself is available on DVD with English subtitles and if you already like Czech children movies, you're going to love this one too. (A sequel directed by Vorlíček again is currently being produced but I'm not holding my breath; the computer animated characters as they can be seen on this web site don't promise anything good.) The aforementioned Various Artists vinyl compilation 12 pro Mladý svět (12 for the Young World magazine) will be tougher to find though; I've seen it only once so far - and that was the copy I have now. While the record doesn't contain much "progressive" material either, there's a couple of other, well, obscurities of historical character like few songs played and sung by the official and highly unpopular young communist "rock" group Plameny (The Flames) or a rare (and rather silly) post-Framus-Five bubble-gum outing by Michal Prokop. And drum break junkies might perhaps appreciate a less known pop tune by Olympic...

P.S. Dívka na koštěti läuft lief in der deutschen Fassung als Das Mädchen auf dem Besenstiel am 31.12.2006 um 6:00 Uhr im RBB.

The letter in a bottle

Barnodaj (a.k.a. Progres 2) - Dopis v láhvi [sample]
from album "Mauglí", 1978, Supraphon 1131919
arranged by Pavel Váně & Zdeněk Kluka, produced by Hynek Žalčík, Jan Spálený & Květoslav Rohleder


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Somehow it took those guys from Brno about ten years until they finally determined a band name. They started in 1968 as the Progress Organization which was certainly meant with a portion of irony, aiming at the communist "newspeak". In the dark times of 1971, when everything English was being banned by the authorities, they changed the name to Barnodaj, a fictional pseudo-slavic word. Their legendary first album from the same year still carried the original name though. The next six years they spent as Skupina Jana Sochora (Jan Sochor Group), backing pop artists like Martha & Tena Elefteriadu or Bob Frídl. In 1977 they started to work with lyricist Petr Kopta and producer Hynek Žalčík on a "composed rock programme" based on the Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. But even before the resulting album Mauglí (Mowgli) - credited to "Barnodaj" again - was released in 1978, the group reincarnated once more, this time as Progres 2...

Mauglí is a prog-rock album which at some places sounds like it would have been recorded during the late sixties psychedelia. Unlike its predecessor or the subsequent sci-fi rock opera Dialog s vesmírem (Dialog With The Universe), it's not a masterpiece though, and even if you dig prog-rock I don't think it will really blow you out of your funky socks. But I'd still point out both sitar tracks: the instrumental lead-in Džungle (The Jungle) with lots of tom-tom breaks and the dramatic final song Osud (Destiny).

In the middle of it all there's Dopis v láhvi (A Letter In A Bottle), a wicked rock song with that certain touch of funk, written and sung by Pavel Váně. It starts with Pavel Pelc's touch-wah bass, in comes Váně's dirty guitar and Jan Sochor's abstract organ and Moog lines, all held together by Zdeněk Kluka's lively drums. As special guests on this song we also hear an uncredited jazzy horn section as well as ex-Flamengo Jan Kubík with his strong-as-usual tenor sax solo. Yep, that's what the Funky Czech-In is all about: discover the funk even in places where you wouldn't expect it.

Progres 2 recorded a couple of boring albums in the eighties and faded away. Only Kluka kept the trademark alive, sort of: at the end of the 80s he re-appeared with a couple of young musicians as Progres-Pokrok ("pokrok" actually means "progress" in Czech) with the sarcastic show Otrava krve (Blood Poisoning), releasing an excellent and almost "punky" album in 1990. Nowadays the nucleus of the original group (Kluka/Váně/Pelc) still occasionally performs as Progres 2 or Progress Organization, besides of working on their own projects.

You might find Mauglí on vinyl either on eBay or maybe elsewhere if you google for "barnodaj". A CD reissue has just been released in November 2006, so get it while you can. The first album should be also available on CD with a couple of rare bonus tracks. And if you're a "hardcore" collector and you'd like to own the original ultra-mega-rare very first Progress Organization EP from 1970, released on the short-lived Discant label, I know a guy who will sell it to you for as low as € 100.00 (I had to pass this one although I certainly liked it...)

Interlude no. 1

As some of you might have already noticed, this music blog is less about being a diary giving away your daily dose of megabytes. Rather I consider it an archive of facts about Czech and Slovak music as defined in the blog header. It's based on my knowledge and what I have gathered from the web (which is mostly in Czech language only), from some books and from the record liner notes. Therefore I don't think it's a good idea to remove any traces of audio from earlier posts after a certain time - which has been after about five weeks so far. Instead, I have now uploaded lo-fi samples of each song that has been published, so in the future you will be still able to hear what I've been writing about. "Lo-fi" means 60 seconds of 64 kbps in mono. Front page audio will be still available in "full size" at 192 kbps (or 96 kbps if mono) as usual.

One more thing...



Someone asked for any rare Yvonne Přenosilová tracks. And indeed I've got one: He's So Heavenly [sample] that appeared on the 1990 album Sklípek, available on vinyl and MC only. In fact, the Sklípek compilation was Přenosilová's first long play album ever! The song was recorded around 1965 or 1966 with the Pavel Sedláček Group. It's a nice up-tempo R&B number, taken from the Brenda Lee repertoire.

An LP is available for sale very cheap. Hurry up!

Rings on the water

Helena Vondráčková & Jazz Q - Kruhy na vodě [sample]
from album "Paprsky", 1978, Supraphon 1132350
arranged by Martin Kratochvíl, produced by Jan Spálený, Mojmír Balling & Květoslav Rohleder


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Helena Vondráčková is without doubt the number one Czech female pop star. With more than 40 years in the show biz she's one of the few still active and still successful veterans from the early days of contemporary Czechoslovak pop music. The complete Vondráčková story is well documented on this English fan site, so I won't go much into details here.

Although she had plenty of top hits in the 1970s with a lot of airplay and TV appearances, her regular albums were neither really great nor very popular, partly because they were too mainstream oriented while lacking obvious hit material. This may have been the reason why she teamed up in early 1978 with jazz-rocker Martin Kratochvíl to record Paprsky (Beams), an album without hits, too, but with lots of exciting and funky music. It wasn't her first collaboration with jazz musicians though, ex-SHQ Luděk Švábenský and his Strýci (a.k.a. Šest strýců) used to be her live backing group in the mid seventies, recording a couple of pop 45s and a quite nice easy listening album in 1974.

Paprsky was recorded by Kratochvíl's regular group Jazz Q with František Francl, Vladimír Padrůněk (1952-1991) and Jaromír Helešic, including a few guests: Michal Gera, Jiří Tomek, Vladimír Merta, Petr Kalandra and Oskar Petr, who also wrote most of the lyrics. Kratochvíl was responsible for all keyboards, arrangements and most compositions. A few songs were penned by Vondráčková's younger brother Jiří Vondráček. Interesting fact in this context is the direct connection to the folk-rock group Marsyas, which I have featured on Funky Czech-In in October: Marsyas used to play live gigs with Jazz Q; Kalandra and Petr appeared on this album; Petr left Marsyas and became Jazz Q's lead singer (until his emigration in 1979) while Helena's brother Jiří Vondráček on the other hand joined Marsyas as Petr's replacement...

Back in the days this LP was considered a very experimental project for a pop singer like Vondráčková. Today it may sound more conventional than originally intended, but compared to her other outings from the late seventies and from the eighties it's still the one Vondráčková album that you might want to own. Paprsky is available as a double CD including the 1980 pure disco album Můzy (Muses a.k.a. Music) which is quite a logical choice. Get it e.g. on cdmusic.cz or on supermusic.cz, you can listen to Ogg Vorbis samples on this official discography page. For vinyl try eBay. Oh, by the way, a couple of her vinyl records from the sixties are available in my web shop, too (items no. 482, 964, 1194, 1197 and 1213).

The painted orchestra

Plameňáci/Flamingo - Malovaná kapela [sample]
from album "Plameňáci/Flamingo & Marie Rottrová 75", 1976, Supraphon 1131695
arranged by Richard Kovalčík, produced by Květoslav Rohleder & Jan Hrábek


original LP sleeve (front/back)

Flamingo a.k.a. Plameňáci are back on the blog, my friend, albeit this time without their lead singer Marie Rottrová. Today we'll have a first look on Rottrová/Flamingo's third regular album. It is your very proof of the old saying that you shouldn't judge a record by its cover. Because although the front photo sells you a softie female singer in a long blue dress fronting a variety show orchestra in tuxedos playing on a tinfoil-decorated stage in some kind of a small town multi-purpose hall where you can even recognize a couple of forgotten wooden chairs behind the stage in the top left corner, for most parts your turntable will speak the language of funk, soul, and jazz-rock.

Although called "75" and released in 1976, some of the album tracks have been already recorded in 1974, shortly before Flamingo's original leader Richard Kovalčík passed away. But his trumpet only appears somewhere on Jiří Urbánek's instrumental opener Poslední okamžik (The Last Moment) which is seven minutes of boiling jazz funk featuring a long bass guitar solo; certainly not a typical way to kick off what's actually supposed to be a pop album. Even the writer of an online review of the CD reissue seems to be rather puzzled - to put it mildly - about the original album concept and sound; well, I definitely don't share his opinion... Anyway, it's almost more a "Flamingo" than a "Rottrová" album because out of eight and a half songs (Quasimodo's Dream is split into two parts on both sides) there are three original instrumental tunes while the guys also get plenty of room on the vocal tracks to show their high class musicianship.

Malovaná kapela (The Painted Orchestra) is the instrumental funk bomb of the album. This little tune could make any blaxploitation soundtrack a sought-after collector's item, let alone a Czechoslovak pop album from the mid 1970s. I'd even go as far as to state that this gem is the ultimate original Czech funk. The latinesque groove somehow reminds me of Melvin Van Peebles' (and Earth Wind & Fire's) Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song. Written and arranged by Kovalčík, it must have been recorded after his death because according to the liner notes he doesn't even play on it. The bad news is: this is not an edit, the original track indeed runs under two minutes. Before it fades out you'll still get a short passionate saxophone solo by the band beau Rudolf Březina.

As I said, 75 has been reissued on a double CD as a 2-in-1 with the solid 1981 pop-soul album Muž č. 1 (The Man No. 1) as well as plenty of singles-only bonus tracks, however in the meantime it seems to be out of stock although I've seen a copy online while researching for this post a few weeks ago. The original vinyl is worth to pick anyway, you should try to search for Czech sources though. Overthere it's not as rare (yet) as some online sellers might suggest, earlier this year in Prague I've seen mint copies for as low as CZK 50 (EUR 2).

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!

The Hammond theme

Braňo Hronec Orchestra – Téma pre Hammond [sample]
from 7 inch SP “Žltá rieka (Yellow River)”, 1971, Opus 90430015


original SP in an Opus label sleeve

The subtitle of this blog indicates that I’m supposed to introduce you to funky Slovak music too, and it’s right about time to do so. Let’s start with an early obscure b-side from organist and composer Branislav “Braňo” Hronec.

Hronec was born 1940 in Hronsek and studied on the state conservatory in Bratislava. After playing in various jazz bands since the late 1950s, in the mid 1960s he established his own jazz sextet, pioneering the use of the (then rare and expensive) Hammond organ in Czechoslovakia. To get more gigs, since the late 1960s the group used to enhance its playlist with cover versions of most recent international hits. They began to tour frequently both Eastern and Western Europe where they often played in night clubs. In Slovakia they released a couple of singles with own compositions as well as popular songs like Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In.

One of those 45s on Slovakia’s new record label Opus was a cover version of Christie’s smash pop hit Yellow River with Slovak lyrics. Hm, so what? Well, the actual subject of interest for us funk-heads is of course Hronec’s instrumental flip side “filler” Téma pre Hammond (The Hammond Theme). Based on a funked up basic blues scheme, with its pretty complex rhythmical patterns this one of the most authentic original raw funk tracks that have ever emerged from Eastern Europe; authentic in terms of sounding quite close to its afro-american roots. The Hammond, the horns, the thick bass, the wah-wah fuzz guitar – all expected ingredients are there. Shake yer booty.

The seven-inch doesn’t list the orchestra line-up, but I assume that it’s the same group which has also recorded the debut album Braňo Hronec uvádza (Braňo Hronec Presents) one year later: Hronec on organ, the ex-Beatmen Marián Bednár on bass, Gábor Koval on guitar, Ferdinand Szabó on drums, Igor Parma on trumpet and Pavol Paprčka on saxophones. Additionally, the female vocalists on Žltá rieka (Yellow River) were probably Eva Kostolányiová and Eva Máziková. Internationally the orchestra was also known as the Braňo Hronec Sound or simply Branjo Sound.

Braňo Hronec recorded three long-players in the 1970s before fading into obscurity as a conductor of the Slovak Television Dance Orchestra and a hotel-keeper: the aforementioned soulful Presents which includes a live Slovak version of Tony Ashton’s Resurrection Shuffle (Urob ten krok) (although they were most likely covering the more famous Tom Jones’ rendition), then there’s the 1974 Srdečný pozdrav (Best Greetings) with a pair of killer funk tracks and the ironical yet solid disco album Natrhaj mi dážď (Pick Some Rain For Me) as well as its export English version named I Wanna Dance Bump, both from 1977. And you guessed it, Braňo Hronec will return to Funky Czech-In soon…

As you might have expected, the Hronec records are rather hard to find and the “Best Of” CD mentioned on Hronec’s homepage seems to be actually nonexistent. Try the usual sources: eBay, Gemm or Google. Good luck.

P.S. I just arrived in Prague this morning and I’ll stay for one week. Going to dig for some more funky czech-ins, among other things to do… :) Three good news: My grandmother (83) is doing very well, my old school friend Ondra who is going to celebrate his 40th birthday on thursday is doing very well, too, and finally, the Prague 5 district has enhanced its public WiFi access points which means free internet at my granny’s house…

Drifting with Energit

Energit - Drift [sample]
from "Piknik", 1978, Panton 110695
produced by Hynek Žalčík, arranged by Milan Svoboda


original LP sleeve

Luboš Andršt is actually a bluesman. Born in 1948, after playing guitar in several less known blues combos he joined Michal Prokop and his Framus Five in 1970, being featured on their legendary album Město Er (see this earlier post for details). After their break up he joined Martin Kratochvíl's Jazz Q with whom he recorded Pozorovatelna (The Watchtower) in 1973.

Energit was originally conceived as a hard rock follow-up to Vladimír Mišík's Flamengo with Vladimír Padrůněk on bass, however the communist authorities hardly allowed them to perform in public. The consequences were Mišík's and Padrůněk's departure in order to form Etc... and the emigration of organist Ivan Khunt and drummer Jaroslav Erno Šedivý. Andršt rebuilt the group from ground up while he kept the name as his trademark. By participating in the jazz-rock "craze" he attempted to bypass the existential problems known to most professional Czechoslovak rock musicians of the 1970s. With instrumental music there was not much censorship to fear, and eventually he received at least the public attention he deserved as one of the country's top guitar players. The successful self-titled debut album from 1975 (Supraphon 1131787) is without doubt an international classic of its genre, namely the funky 7/4 suite Ráno (The Morning) which takes up the whole side one. Prominent members of this Energit edition were the young jazzman Emil Viklický on piano and the drummers Anatoli Kohout, Karel Jenčík and Josef Vejvoda (son of the Beer Barrel Polka composer).

Drift is the opener from Energit's second album Piknik (The Picnic). The debut veterans Rudolf Ticháček (1943-1982) on sax and Jan Vytrhlík on bass were joined by another keyboard maestro and arranger Milan Svoboda of the Prague Big Band fame and the drummer Jaromír Helešic (also P.B.B., Jazz Q or Impuls) along with a juicy horn section by Michal Gera, Zdeněk Zahálka and Bohuslav Volf, as well as Jiří Tomek on congas. But after the promising wah-wah guitar intro and the happy "Hancock-ish" theme the tune indeed sort of slips into drifting: it just doesn't really take off and the "B-part" doesn't make much sense either. Andršt's subsequent solo is alright, but the timbre of his lead guitar is definitely not everyone's taste anymore. Well, the funky enlightenment finally arrives with Ticháček's fresh soprano sax solo exactly in the middle of the six-and-a-half-minute tune, followed by Svoboda's Arp synthesizer.

Piknik offers another six Andršt-penned tracks in which he switches between his dull lead sound, phased sirupy rhythm and occasional acoustic guitars. My other pick would be certainly Říční písek (River Sand), a beautiful fusion tune carried by floating acoustic guitar patterns with a spanish flavor. And drum break junkies can fire up their samplers for the title track which closes the side two. Anyway, despite its flaws in terms of composition and production - note the thin bass guitar and drums sound - this album still belongs to the funkier Czech jazz-rock records, quite similar to Elegie (Elegy) by Jazz Q (coming soon on Funky Czech-In). So take it or leave it, this is probably as funky as Andršt can get.

Energit appeared on the 1976 Panton compilation Jazzrocková dílna 2 (Jazz-Rock Workshop 2) with the heavy 12:30 minutes track in 5/4, Superstimulátor, resembling the funkier output of Return To Forever or Stanley Clarke. There's also a rare 7" from Panton's Mini Jazz Klub series, no. 6, which I haven't heard yet but which is supposed to be very tasty, yum. In 1977 Andršt recorded yet another instrumental album with Jazz Q, the obscure Zvěsti (Heralds). In the 1980s he eventually returned to playing the blues (sort of), either as a band leader or in collaboration with singers like Peter Lipa, Michal Prokop and even as the leader of Marta Kubišová's comeback group in 1990-1992. You may want to check out his complete discography. Today he still performs with his Blues Band in Prague jazz clubs featuring the US singer Reesie Davis. And finally, it seems that an Energit revival is on the way, too, at least in its original rock incarnation.

There are no Energit CDs, but you can buy vinyl on eBay or gemm.com, among others. If you google hard enough, you will surely find much cheaper copies from Czech sellers; try to combine search keywords like "energit", "supraphon", "panton" and the like.

The best woman of our days

Vladimír Mišík & Etc... - Nejlepší ženská našich dnů [sample]
from album "Etc... 2", 1980, Supraphon 11132558
produced by Hynek Žalčík & Jan Spálený


original LP sleeve

If anybody deserves the title Living Legend of Czech Rock, Vladimír Mišík has to be the one, which is an undisputed fact, I guess. He's been right there out in front from the very beginning: Matadors, George & Beatovens, Blue Effect and of course Flamengo. Flamengo disbanded shortly after their epochal album Kuře v hodinkách (The Chicken In The Wrist-Watch) has been recorded in 1972; this period will be covered in a future Funky Czech-In post. While many of his former fellow rockers either emigrated to the West or decided to splash about in shallow socialistic pop muzak in order to make some living, Mišík stayed true to his passion all the way through, even in times when "rock" certainly was a bad word in the land behind Brezhnev's Iron Curtain. After a short intermezzo with Luboš Andršt's Energit, around 1975 he formed a rock group with the symptomatic name Etc. Although the line-up changed accordingly often, the group sound remained surprisingly compact as Mišík's first solo album from 1976 proves. That was not only due to his characteristic singing in a bluesy manner, but also thanks to his long-time band mate, the virtuoso violinist, composer and arranger Jan Hrubý. Other musicians involved over the years are the who-is-who in Czech rock anyway: Pavel Fořt, Vladimír Padrůněk, Anatoli Kohout, Jiří Jelínek, František Francl, later also Petr Skoumal, Stanislav Kubeš or the ex-Flamengo bassist Vladimír Kulhánek. The album Etc...2 has been recorded in 1979 with Petr Pokorný on guitar, Jiří Veselý on bass, the drummer Jiří Šustera and Jan Kolář on keyboards and oboe, besides of the aforementioned Hrubý.

Nejlepší ženská našich dnů (The Best Woman Of Our Days) opens the album with a simple and bright slavic folk rock theme. (This is not unusual for Mišík at all; in times when the communist authorities used to push hard on the group, cancelling their regular gigs, Mišík & co. often performed "unplugged" in small clubs with a mixture of blues and folk songs.) But after this short intro Mišík introduces us to the "best woman of our days". And obviously, that lady wants to party! Well, it's 1979 and the Etc... crew delivers her the latest get-down soundtrack, laying down about two minutes of a tight funk rock groove that might please even a hard core P-Funk aficionado. In the second part of the song each musician presents his individual skills to the lady in a breathtaking series of short mini-solos - and I do mean solos - before all guys join forces again for the final section, taking the tune back where it originally started. Not surprisingly, the song was co-written by the virtuoso bass player Veselý. The ironical lyrics came from writer and translator Michal Staša.

The other eight songs of the album oscillate between the typical Mišík singer/songwriter folk like his biggest hit Variace na renesanční téma (A Variation On A Renaissance Theme), the sarcastic cajun blues Sladké je žít (It's Sweet To Be Alive) and the dismal high-speed jazzrock Na okraji (On The Edge) which was written by their former guitarist Jiří Jelínek, also a member of the legendary Mahagon who died tragically in 1977, aged mere 23.

Okay, I may be surely biased because I'm listening to this album since the early eighties, but Etc...2 doesn't have a single weak point. I admit though that it may help if you understand the Czech language to fully appreciate it. But even then, this record is so full of high class musicianship that it can be compared to the mighty Kuře v hodinkách, which again is actually a Mišík album, too... So, when I initially said "Living Legend", I surely mean it, and not just because nowadays Vladimír Mišík knows only one opponent that can sometimes keep him from entering a stage and singing his ass off: his long-standing asthma. Obviously his illness has been quite bad recently, so unfortunatelly Mišík had to cancel most of his summer gigs this year.

The rest of the Mišík story will be told another time while I'll introduce you to Flamengo. In the meantime, "turn up the lights, the best woman of our days comes inside, the day turns into night, the night turns into day, should I trust my eyes or my dreams?" And now, buy it already (try eBay or Gemm for vinyl), will ya?! This record is timeless.

Blues in soul

The Framus Five - Hold On I'm Comin' [sample]
from album "Blues In Soul", 1971, Supraphon 1130578
produced by Michael Prostějovský & Jaromír Tůma


1971 export reissue LP sleeve, on the left: Michal Prokop

Of the troika of my favorite Czech male rock singers, Michal Prokop is certainly my Mr. Soul (while the other two, Mr. Rock Jiří Schelinger and Mr. Blues Vladimír Mišík, will be featured on this blog very soon). Prokop, born 1946, co-founded the Framus Five in the early sixties. Initially they were devoted to the Mersey sound like the majority of other Czech beat groups but soon they added a horn section and switched to Memphis-oriented rhythm'n'blues. They performed at the famous 1st Czechoslovak Beat Festival 1967 in Prague where Prokop was (rightfully) declared the best singer of the event. They spent the following two years with successful touring all over the country and through Poland.

Hold On I'm Comin', a Hayes/Porter composition originally recorded by Sam & Dave for Stax, is the closing song from Framus Five's first album "Blues In Soul", recorded in the fall of 1968. Although you can hear applause at the beginning and at the end, this is only a pseudo-live "audience" which has been overdubbed to "glue" the album tracks together. Oh well, that gimmick used to be fashionable all around the world at that time. Nevertheless, the song steams like a locomotive engine on the loose, and, even in direct comparison to the certainly soulful S&D original, it is right about to explode. Hold on, baby, Michal Prokop sho 'nuff IS comin'!

Blues In Soul delivers exactly what its title promises. Originally released in 1969 as Framus Five + Michal Prokop, it contains ten R&B and soul covers like Got My Mojo Working, I Believe To My Soul, What'd I Say or Chuck Berry's funked up Around And Around - as well as Prokop's instrumental title track. This is your ultimate Czech R&B long play album because it is in fact, besides Flamingo's first LP (a.k.a. This Is Our Soul), the only one. Unfortunately, in 1971 when this stereo export reissue was finally released, the Framus Five were already history. Besides Prokop who also used to play the lead guitar, the original members were Ivan Trnka on keyboards, Ladislav Eliáš on bass, Petr Klárfeld on drums, Ivan Umáčený on trumpet and saxophonist Jiří Burda who also wrote the arrangements.

Later known as Michal Prokop & Framus 5, the group gave up the horn section and - most likely involuntarily - the English lyrics and for most parts also the "pure" soul. After recording another single as a quartet, in 1970 they were joined by the blues guitarist Luboš Andršt. Soon they began to work with the young producer Hynek Žalčík and poet Josef Kainar on their next album Město Er (A Town Called R). However, the band already broke up in the middle of the production, mostly due to elementary problems like "how do I manage to feed my family while being a musician"; remember, the "normalization" of the real-socialistic society has just begun and rock music was among the first sectors to be "normalized". But despite a few "fillers" on the b-side, Město Er, released in late 1971, remains one of the undisputed masterpieces in Czechoslovak rock history, thanks to the monumental 19 minutes title track where a prog-rock group meets blues poetry and a jazz big band.

Prokop spent most of the 1970s as a background singer with various Czech mainstream pop artists and in the ensemble of the renown Semafor theatre. At least, his superfunky Czech version of Edwin Starr's War (Nač nám je válka) was captured in 1975 on an obscure "socialistic" anti-war compilation Slunci vstříc (Facing The Sun), making it probably the only Norman Whitfield song that has ever been recorded by a Czech artist. (Hm, I guess that's definitely worth a separate Funky Czech-In post...) In 1978 he revived the Framus 5 trademark and recorded a rather puzzling disco-rock-soul LP Holubí dante (Pigeon's Dante) in 1980. But his best work was yet to come: the "free trilogy" albums Kolej Yesterday (College Yesterday, 1984), Nic ve zlým nic v dobrým (Nothing For Bad Nothing For Good, 1987) and Snad nám naše děti prominou (Perhaps Our Children Will Forgive Us, 1989) all belong to the best Czech rock records of the decade. (You can trust me because generally I consider myself an "eighties hater".)

In the 1990s Prokop has been performing only sporadically. He actively helped to build up the new democracy and worked a couple of years as a parliamentarian and even became a deputy minister of culture. Later he has been given the opportunity to host talk shows on Czech TV. The one named Krásný ztráty (Beautiful Losses) after a song from his 1984 album Kolej Yesterday - where Prokop intelligently interviews personalities from culture, sports and politics - is still up and running; even my 82 years old grandmother is quite a fan. (Coincidentally, one of the guests in the last friday issue is our "guest" from the previous Funky Czech-In post: ex-Marsyas singer Oskar Petr!) Prokop also released a new studio record earlier this year, his first after 17 years.

Blues In Soul and Město Er have been reissued on CDs including all 7-inch-only bonus tracks, so buy them, there's lots of music for a few bucks. The 1980s albums reissues should be available as well. You can also check out the vinyl on gemm.com or eBay: unlike Město Er (which I have finally found in Prague on vinyl only one year ago), Blues In Soul is not as rare as one might think.

In the Heat Bay

Marsyas - Záliv Žár [sample]
from 7 inch SP, 1979, Panton 81430006
arranged by Michael Kocáb


original SP sleeve (front/back, l. to r.: Petr, Michnová, Kalandra)

Marsyas started in the early 1970s as a folk duo of singer Zuzana Michnová with Petr Kalandra on guitar, harp and vocals. Soon they teamed up with the talented singer/songwriter, guitarist, photographer and painter Oskar Petr. After recording a "conservative" folk single and touring with Jazz Q and Pražský výběr, by 1977 they were ready for their debut long player. For the self-titled album they decided to present their folk repertoire in adequate new clothes, so the producer Hynek Žalčík brought them Pavel Fořt's studio group Labyrint. The line-up reads like a who-is-who in Czech jazz and rock music: besides guitar player Fořt (Karel Gott orchestra, ex-Flamengo) there was the original Pražský výběr rhythm section Kocáb/Soukup/Malina, another ex-Flamengo Jan Kubík on sax and flute, jazz keyboarder Emil Viklický and the ubiquitous percussionist Jiří Tomek, among others. The result was a timeless blend of folk rock with progressive and funky jazz rock. In the late 1970s the Marsyas members also appeared on other jazz and rock records as guests musicians, e.g. with Pražský výběr (album Žízeň/Thirst), Jiří Schelinger, Vladimír Mišík, Helena Vondráčková or Jazz Q.

Oskar Petr's Záliv Žár (Heat Bay) has been released in 1979 as a 7" single after he had already left Marsyas. With its rich string orchestration arranged by classically educated Michael Kocáb the song sounds quite depressing, sort of reflecting the unpleasant era of an escapist society in the midst of the normalization. The main theme is carried by Kocáb's funky clavinet vamp, augmented by sleazy synthesizers while Oskar sings about birds of passage flying over deserts and oases. Only occasionally the dark mood is broken by a short optimistic but wordless bridge with Zuzana's angel-like voice. The dramatical section in the middle of the song isn't much fun either: "In the Heat Bay the sun is merging with the water, I'm scared that it will fall over, almost as it would be drinking for the very last time" - followed by Kalandra's bluesy harp solo.
The exact line-up of the backing group is unknown to me, but according to Oskar Petr (as he recently replied to my question on his web site), the group and orchestra were overdubbed to the vocal/guitar basic tracks. Quite impressive. Thus most likely we're hearing Pražský výběr in its pre-new-wave line-up with Ondřej Soukup on bass and either Ladislav Malina or Vratislav Placheta on drums. 

After a short period of performing as the Jazz Q's lead singer, in 1979 Oskar Petr exiled to the USA. As it was a common rule in such a case then, most records mentioning him as a performer or songwriter disappeared from the store shelves and from radio airplay. Zuzana Michnová kept Marsyas alive for almost another decade as a groovy folk rock combo, in some songs partly anticipating Galliano's or Urban Species' acid-jazz/folk-rock fusion by more than ten years. Kalandra left the group in 1984 and passed away in 1995, after being seriously ill for a couple of years. Meanwhile, another edition of Marsyas came to life in 2004-2005, albeit without Petr.

So, here you have one of my most favorite Czech songs of all times. It took me about 20 years to locate a dusty copy of this particular vinyl single which I only used to know from a tape I once got from my uncle. While in the meantime all 1990s CD reissues have been deleted from the catalogues again, this masterpiece is still available on a recent best-of-CD Marsyas 1978-2004. A second reissue of the debut album - with Záliv Žár as one of the bonus tracks - is also planned and the CD is available for pre-order. So go and get it now! You can listen to audio samples of all Marsyas songs on their web site. Vinyl is available on gemm.com, musicstack.com or occasionally on eBay. Besides of that, I also have two Marsyas vinyl records for sale (items no. 20 and 23 in my list) from the late 1980s. But well, that's already that typical 80s drum machine pop rock...

A yoghurt not until another time

Combo FH - Jogurt až jindy [sample]
from 7 inch EP "Mini Jazz Klub č. 11" a.k.a. "Kopytem různě", 1977 , Panton 330415
produced by František Horáček


original 1977 EP sleeve

Combo FH, originally known as Combo Franty Hromady (Franta Hromada Combo), appeared on the Czech amateur jazz scene in 1974. The members were young students aged twenty and their music sounded fresh and humorous, not always following the usual jazz-rock conventions of that era. Combo FH was conceived and lead by keyboard player, composer and Frank Zappa admirer Daniel Fikejz, son of the well known Czech pop lyricist Jiřina Fikejzová. The original line-up included Bořivoj Suchý on saxophone, Milan Sládek on bassoon, Oldřich Svoboda on flute, the bass player Peter Hájek, Richard Mader and Jaroslav Hönig on guitars and the drummer Vít Ondráček. Franta Hromada never was a real member of the combo though, most likely due to his physical non-existence...

Combo FH debuted on wax in 1977 with an instrumental three-track EP, the release no. 11 from the Panton Mini Jazz Klub series. Panton was, besides Supraphon, the "other" Czech record label, starting in 1967 until the early 1990s with focus on less commercial releases. With the Mini Jazz Klub series on 7 inch records Panton tried to document - within their possibilities - the active Czech jazz scene from 1976 until the mid 1980s while covering all possible facets of the genre; get ready for more Mini Jazz Klub examples here on the Funky Czech-In blog, like Jana Koubková's Hot Breath (no. 23) or the legendary Luděk Hulan's Jazz Sanatorium (no. 2).

After Fikejz' reggae excursion on another 7" featuring the vocal group Yo Yo Band (obviously the very first Czech reggae record ever), in 1980 Combo FH recorded their ultimate scurrilous album Věci (Things), which even came to distribution in Western Europe, becoming at that time one of the very few Czechoslovak jazz/rock records known to at least some music collectors in front of the Iron Curtain. Thanks to their rather unobtrusive look and apolitical message the group was permitted to appear on Czech TV a couple of times. They were also the first Czech group to experiment with laser weapo..., er, lighshow on stage. Through the 1980s Fikejz continued to record sporadically as Combo FH with ever changing personal line-ups. However, he dropped the jazz entirely, switching to a more "commercial" vocal new-wave-pop and initially adopting slight ska influences, documented on a few single sides. He then released the synth laden second Combo FH album Situace na střeše (A Situation On The Rooftop) in 1985, which actually was a pretty good pop record. But one year later Fikejz disbanded the group for good, concentrating on his work as a scenic music composer.

Jogurt až jindy (A Yoghurt Not Until Another Time) is the b-side track from the first EP and one of the rather "conventional" Fikejz compositions from their weird 1970s repertoire. After a bluesy prelude (edited out from this MP3) it takes off with a fast modal fusion groove full of funky Fender Rhodes riffs, blubbering synths and Caravan-alike slide guitar and soprano sax melodies leading into a straight guitar solo, followed by a moody intermezzo borrowing from medieval music. For the last one and a half minutes the group slows down to a melancholic jazz-rock tune and a brief epilog repeats the prelude blues theme as a duet for double bass and a whistler with background noises of someone crumpling a snack wrapping paper (hence the yoghurt reference in the song title).

As far as I can tell, none of the Combo FH recordings have been reissued on CD yet. A few not-so-cheap vinyl records are usually available online, e.g. via gemm.com, or they appear on eBay occasionally. This particular EP is now also for sale here or there. Much cheaper copies can be found in second hand stores in the Czech Republic, of course.

The circle of light

Marie Rottrová & Flamingo - Kruh světla [sample]
from album "Marie Rottrová", 1972, Supraphon 1131268
arranged by Richard Kovalčík, produced by František Řebíček


original 1972 LP sleeve (front/back)

Marie Rottrová, born 1941 in Ostrava, started to sing with the beat group Samuel in the mid 1960s. Then she joined the soul group Majestic and since 1969 she worked professionally with its successor Flamingo - not to be confused with the famous beat/prog group from Prague called Flamengo. Flamingo recorded a couple of soul and R&B singles, their first long play album came out in 1970. It was one of the very few pure soul albums ever recorded in Czechoslovakia. Actually there were two Flamingo debut albums if you also count the very popular export edition This Is Our Soul which contains basically the same tracks but sung in English. Rottrová soon started to record as a solo artist as well. Nice is e.g. the up-tempo duet with superstar Karel Gott Mít pouhej tejden (Having Only A Week), a 1971 cover version of Good Morning Freedom, turning it into one of the better songs that Gott recorded in the 1970s. (Although it needs to be noted that Gott's Czech repertoire - especially the 1960s beat stuff - was always of much higher quality than his German schlager crap.)

Flamingo, who were later forced to change their name to the Czech equivalent Plameňáci, was a very tight combo with its own horn section. Some members were at the same time the nucleus of the Czechoslovak Radio Ostrava Orchestra which was recording with various other local pop artists like Pavel Novák. The group was originally lead by trumpet player Richard Kovalčík who was also responsible for most of the arrangements. After his death in 1975 the keyboardist Vladimír Figar took over the leadership. Other longtime members were bass player Jiří Urbánek, Rudolf Březina on tenor sax, Jan Hasník on guitar and the "funky drummer" Radek Dominik. Despite further personal changes, Flamingo/Plameňáci remained Marie Rottrová's main backing group until Vladimír Figar's death in 1989.

Kruh světla (The Ring Of Light) is the dramatical opener from Rottrová's first solo album which has been recorded while Flamingo's second lead singer, Petr Němec, had to serve his two years in the Czechoslovak army. The song was written by Karel Svoboda with Michael Prostějovský's lyrics. Yes, that Karel Svoboda who wrote Lady Carneval and Biene Maja for Karel Gott as well as probably hundreds of other maddening "normalized" Czech pop and schlager songs, including the title melody from the famous Xmas fairy-tale movie Tři oříšky pro Popelku (Three Hazelnuts For Cinderella). But that doesn't mean that Svoboda didn't have any flair for some funk here and there; watch out for some more Svoboda penned disco grooves in the Funky Czech-In pipeline.

The rest of the album sounds a lot softer, but there's also a funky cover version of Zawinul's Mercy Mercy Mercy with Czech lyrics, called Nechci (I Don't Want). This album sort of sketches the path that Rottrová was about to take for her future career, being a soul influenced pop singer with class. Compared to other Czechoslovak top entertainers of that era, Rottrová was one of the few who were able to maintain a very high standard without actually selling out to the apathetic real-socialistic TV-consuming masses. Even some of her later ballads still sound very tasteful after thirty years. In other words, this entry won't be her or Flamingo's only appearance on this blog.

I don't know Marie Rottrová's records after 1983, but she keeps on recording and performing actively.
If you're interested, I have five of her 7" singles from the seventies for sale (items no. 479, 843, 1070, 1193 and 1219). On cdmusic.cz you can also buy some CDs, search there for "rottrova".

Join us and we'll travel the world

Marta Kubišová - Tak dej se k nám a projdem svět [sample]
from album "Songy a balady", 1969, Supraphon 1130855 and 100587-1311
also on Golden Kids album "Micro-Magic-Circus", 1969, Supraphon, reissued 1997, Bonton 710505-2
The Golden Kids Orchestra conducted by Josef Vobruba, produced by Bohuslav Ondráček and Vladimír Popelka


the original 1969 LP, the 1990 LP/CD reissue sleeve and the Golden Kids LP/CD sleeve

Let's start the Funky Czech-In blog with the probably best known funky Czech song, the soulful Tak dej se k nám a projdem svět (Join Us And We'll Travel The World). It's the song that makes Marta Kubišová's first - and for twenty years her only - solo album appear on so many funk collectors' want lists. Marta Kubišová, born 1942, was probably the most popular Czech female pop singer between 1965 and 1970.

Written by the guitarist Otakar Petřina with lyrics from bass player Zdeněk Rytíř, the song literally kicks off with a funky drum break, most likely played by Petr Hejduk. Soon thereafter we'll get all pop ingredients that were "in" in late 1968 when the track was recorded: a funky bass line, a fuzzy guitar, a swirling organ, a swinging punchy horn section (probably played by members of the Czechoslovak Radio Prague Dance/Jazz Orchestra - TOČR/JOČR) and on top of it Marta's deep and urgent voice, indirectly reflecting the cheerless situation of the country occupied by Soviet tanks, while offering the listener a glimpse of hope.

The album itself is slightly uneven as it contains some "fillers" which sound like being intended for the German schlager market, after all Kubišová always was a pop singer in the first place. However, the majority of the songs are simply great, although not necessarily funky. The album begins with a solid cover of Beatles' Hey Jude, which basically follows the original version except that it's sung in Czech just like the rest of the record. Another climax of the album is the intense psychedelic sitar folk song Balada o kornetovi a dívce (The Ballad Of The Cornette And The Girl). I own the 1990 LP reissue which obviously omits Zlý dlouhý půst (Bad Long Fasting) and Kdo ti radu dá (Who Gives You An Advice) (a song I have never heard yet) in favor of a re-arranged version of her biggest hit Modlitba pro Martu (A Prayer For Marta) and another Petřina/Rytíř-penned up-tempo soul-beat protest song Ne (No). It's likely that those two crucial songs had to be removed from the early 1970 pressing due to their political message; that used to happen quite often in that part of the world. However, I'm not sure if they were ever included on the original issue at all. Whatever, according to a recent online interview with Marta, Tak dej se k nám as well as Ne were her favorite songs from the album, while the single-only Tajga-Blues '69 is obviously her favorite song ever. (I might feature Tajga-Blues in a future post as it's quite a funky psychedelic beat song.)

At the time when Songy a balady has been recorded and released, Kubišová was also a member of the Golden Kids, a vocal trio with Helena Vondráčková and Václav Neckář who were then already pop stars with their own solo albums, too. (Neckář was even starring in the main role in the 1968 Oscar winning movie Ostře sledované vlaky (Closely Watched Trains) directed by Jiří Menzel.) The Golden Kids were extremely popular in 1969 and they also performed in West Germany and in France. Many songs from Songy a balady were actually a part of the Golden Kids live show and both Vondráčková and Neckář sang background vocals on Marta's album. So watch out for a Golden Kids, a Neckář and a Vondráčková Funky Czech-In post, too.

In 1969 Kubišová's future was looking very bright, she had signed a record contract with Polydor and a couple of her and Golden Kids singles were already released in West Germany. But obviously she went "too far" with her political engagement. In 1970 Marta's voice has been silenced by the "normalizator" Husák's regime and all records with her name on the label had to disappear from Czech record stores. You can read more details on a Marta Kubišová fan site in English, including a detailed although not complete discography and a lot of other trivia. Unlike Vondráčková and Neckář, she was not allowed to record or perform in public for almost 20 years, until her appearance at a huge demonstration against the communist regime in November 1989 where she sang the Czechoslovak national anthem and her "signature" song, the ballad Modlitba pro Martu (A Prayer For Marta) [external audio link]. I can remember that while I was listening to her performance live on the Czech AM radio that I had tears in my eyes. And this particular song still moves me, despite the "cheesy" organ sound on the album version (but hey, the original 1968 single version with the Václav Hybš orchestra sounds even cheesier). It's the message that counts.

Marta Kubišová still - or rather: again - performs and records today, all of her recordings are available on CDs. Unlike the original, the 1990 vinyl reissue of Songy a balady isn't very hard to find in online auctions or in second hand record shops in Prague. If you're interested, I have four of her 7" singles from the sixties for sale (items no. 284, 963, 1068 and 1194). On cdmusic.cz you can also buy some CDs, search there for "kubisova".

---