THE CONCERT FOR BANGLADESH

Original released on Triple LP Apple STCX 3385

(US 1971, December 20)

Hands down, this epochal concert at New York's Madison Square Garden - first issued on three LPs in a handsome orange-colored box - was the crowning event of George Harrison's public life, a gesture of great goodwill that captured the moment in history and, not incidentally, produced some rousing music as a permanent legacy. Having been moved by his friend Ravi Shankar's appeal to help the homeless Bengali refugees of the 1971 India-Pakistan war, Harrison leaped into action, organizing on short notice what became a bellwether for the spectacular rock & roll benefits of the 1980s and beyond. The large, almost unwieldy band was loaded with rock luminaries - including Beatles alumnus Ringo Starr, Eric Clapton, Badfinger, and two who became stars as a result of their electric performances here, Leon Russell ("Jumpin' Jack Flash"/"Youngblood") and Billy Preston ("That's the Way God Planned It"). Yet Harrison is in confident command, running through highlights from his recent triumphant "All Things Must Pass" album in fine voice, secure enough to revisit his Beatles legacy from Abbey Road and the White Album. 

Though overlooked at the time by impatient rock fans eager to hear the hits, Shankar's opening raga, "Bangla Dhun," is a masterwork on its own terms; the sitar virtuoso is in dazzling form even by his standards and, in retrospect, Shankar, Ali Akbar Khan, and Alla Rakha amount to an Indian supergroup themselves. The high point of the concert is the surprise appearance of Bob Dylan - at this reclusive time in his life, every Dylan sighting made headlines - and he read the tea leaves perfectly by performing five of his most powerful, meaningful songs from the '60s. Controversy swirled when the record was released; then-manager Alan Klein imposed a no-discount policy on this expensive set and there were questions as to whether all of the intended receipts reached the refugees. Also, in a deal to allow Dylan's participation, the set was released by Capitol on LP while Dylan's label Columbia handled the tape versions. Yet, in hindsight, the avarice pales beside the concert's magnanimous intentions, at a time when rock musicians truly thought they could help save the world. (Richard Ginell in AllMusic)

BADFINGER: "Magic Christian Music"

Original released on LP Apple SAPCOR 12

(UK 1970, January 9)

If Badfinger's debut album "Magic Christian Music" sounds patchy, there's a reason why: It was assembled from three different sources. Although the title suggests that the record is a soundtrack to "The Magic Christian" it isn't. It's a hodgepodge, containing the group's three contributions to the film, six highlights from the band's pre-Badfinger album "Maybe Tomorrow" (released when they were known as the Iveys), an alternate take from "Maybe Tomorrow", and four new songs. It's little wonder that it doesn't hold together, winding up as a document of Badfinger's unharnessed potential. Since their breakthrough hit "Come and Get It" was written by Paul McCartney, Badfinger was dogged by comparisons to the Beatles but they were hardly copyists. Elements of the Hollies, the Kinks, and very mild psychedelia are discernable throughout "Magic Christian Music", all part of the band's search for their own voice. Apart from the lovely pop tune "Dear Angie" and Tom Evans' stately, yearning "Maybe Tomorrow," the Iveys numbers aren't particularly distinguished pop but they are, by and large, pleasant period pieces. On the newer material, Badfinger sounds stronger and their craftsmanship surfaces. Pete Ham emerges as a fine songsmith, with the convincing rocker "Midnight Sun" and the gentle "Walk Out in the Rain." Still, the true standouts among the newer songs are "Crimson Ship" and "Carry on Till Tomorrow," both co-written by Ham and Evans. They're two sides of the same coin - dreamy post-psych pop tunes driven by strong hooks and harmonies. They might not always deliver on that promise on "Magic Christian Music", but with its appealing melodies, lite psychedelic flourishes and, yes, Beatlesque harmonies, it's an enjoyable artifact of its time. (Stephen Erlewine in AllMusic)

BADFINGER - "Straight Up"

Original released on LP Apple SW 3387

(US 1971, December 13)

"Straight Up" winds up somewhat less dynamic than "No Dice", largely because that record alternated its rockers, pop tunes, and ballads. Here, everything is at a similar level, as the ballads are made grander and the rockers have their melodic side emphasized. Consequently, the record sounds more unified than "No Dice", which had a bit of a split personality. Todd Rundgren's warm, detailed production makes each songwriter sound as if he was on the same page, although the bonus tracks - revealing the abandoned original Geoff Emerick productions - prove that the distinctive voices on "No Dice" were still present. Frankly, the increased production is for the best, since Badfinger sounds best when there's as much craft in the production as there is in the writing. Here, there's absolutely no filler and everybody is in top form. Pete Ham's "Baby Blue" is textbook power-pop - irresistibly catchy fuzz riffs and sighing melodies - and with its Harrison-esque slide guitars, "Day After Day" is so gorgeous it practically aches. "Perfection" is an unheralded gem, while "Name of the Game" and "Take It All" are note-perfect pop ballads. Tom Evans isn't as prolific here, but the one-two punch of "Money" and "Flying" is the closest "Straight Up" gets to Abbey Road, and "It's Over" is a fine closer. Still, what holds the record together is Joey Molland's emergence as a songwriter. His work on "No Dice" is enjoyable, but here, he comes into his own with a set of well-constructed songs. This fine songwriting, combined with sharp performances and exquisite studio craft, make "Straight Up" one of the cornerstones of power-pop, a record that proved that it was possible to make classic guitar-pop after its golden era had passed. (Stephen Erlewine in AllMusic)

Okay, Jane, Give us the 'Badfinger'..!

Original released on LP Apple SAPCOR 16

(UK, 1970, November 27)

Badfinger's second album "No Dice" kicks off with "I Can't Take It," a rocker that signaled even if Badfinger still played pop and sang ballads, they considered themselves a rock band. What gave Badfinger character is they blended their desire to rock with their sensitive side instead of compartmentalizing. Even when they rock on "No Dice", it's never earthy, like, say, the Stones. Badfinger's very sensibility and sound is modeled after the early British Invasion, where bands sang catchy, concise love songs. Yet there's a worldliness to their music absent from that of their forefathers, partially because Badfinger styled themselves as classicists, adapting the sound of their idols and striving to create a similar body of work. "No Dice" bears this out, boasting old-fashioned rockers, catchy pop tunes, and acoustic ballads. On the surface, there's nothing special about such a well-crafted, sharply produced, straight-ahead pop record, but the pleasure of a power pop album is in the craft. "No Dice" is not without flaws - a byproduct of an all-writing, all-singing band is that some songs don't measure up - but it does achieve the right balance of craft, fun, and emotion, due in no small part to Pete Ham's songwriting. Ham dominates the record, providing note-perfect openers and closers, along with the centerpiece singles "No Matter What" and "Without You," the latter a yearning, painful ballad co-written with Tom Evans. Collaborating with new guitarist Joey Molland, Evans wrote two other excellent songs ("I Don't Mind," "Better Days"), while Molland's own "Love Me Do" chugs along with nice momentum. Still, the heart of the album lies in Ham's work.. He proves that songcraft is what separates great power-pop from good, and it's what makes "No Dice" a superb pop record. (Stephen Erlewine in AllMusic)