Kevin Ayers "Bananamour" (4*)

Coming at the end of Ayers’ first stint on Harvest Records, his fourth studio album came with a new rhythm section (drummer Eddie Sparrow and bassist Archie Legget) and delivered some of his most accessible recordings, apparently intended to break Ayers to a wider audience (he was on the verge of switching management to John Reid, who was looking after Elton John's career at the time).

Given the fact that we’re talking Kevin Ayers here, you might baulk at that suggestion of wider audiences, at which point I’d ask how else you’d explain the presence of the British music industry's premier session vocalists (Liza Strike, Doris Troy, and Barry St. John) to flesh out the vocal sound and deliver a healthy dose of Dark Side Of The Moon to the proceedings.

Their presence, and that influence is obvious from the first chorus of the Beatles-tinged Don't Let It Get You Down and the chorus swells as it modulates through the chord progression. There’s a definite nod towards the pop end of the spectrum, a great horn section and an arrangement that delivers an almost perfect opener. Shouting In A Bucket Blues follows it up very nicely indeed, with tasty Steve Hillage licks under the vocal in a tongue-in-cheek exercise in intelligent pop song. Hillage soars, Ayers does a passable impersonation of Leonard Cohen and all’s well with the world.

That changes When Your Parents Go To Sleep which comes across as an exercise in writing something that doesn’t suit Ayers’ vocal timbre, which (presumably) is why he hands the vocal duties over to bassist Archie Leggett. It’s the sort of move that might well work in concert (give the front man a break territory, folks) but doesn’t make much sense here on a Kevin Ayers album. It’s not that the vibe doesn't fit with the rest of the album, the horns work fine and the previously noted backing vocalists are working the same territory as they have been earlier in proceedings, but this little Stax knockoff would probably have been better as a single B-side or as an Archie Leggett solo piece. It works, but doesn’t quite work here, if you catch my drift.

With a distorted vocal that sounds like the singer is out on the periphery rather than front and centre, Interview lines up rugged guitar (Ayers) with spacey psychedelic organ (Ratledge) over an odd minimalist funky percussion rhythm to create some of the trippiest moments on the album, crossfading into Internotional Anthem, which does another odd bit of lining things up. There’s some of Don't Let it Get You Down (For Rachel) matched with some lyrics from Interview, delivered by the Dark Side of the Moon backing vocal ensemble, which sounds like a bit of a hodgepodge but works as a lead in to the eight minute drone of Decadence, Ayers’ portrait of Nico, ex-Velvet Underground chanteuse and creator of The Marble Index and Desertshore: Watch her out there on display / Dancing in her sleepy way / While all her visions start to play / On the icicles of our decay / And all along the desert shore / She wanders further evermore / The only thing that's left to try / She says to live I have to die.

It’s undeniably the album’s set piece major artistic statement, and quite an impressive achievement, an atmospheric exercise quite unlike the rest of the album, and several light years from Ayers’ regular territory though he’ll be back in the same neighbourhood on Confessions of Dr. Dream. There’s an almost Krautrock vibe (hardly surprising given the subject matter) with Steve Hillage's spacy guitar over a bed of hypnotic guitars, droning synthesisers and metronomic beats.

By contrast, his tribute to Pink Floyd founder Syd Barrett, Oh! Wot A Dream, comes across as almost flippant, though that’s as much to do with the duck quack and clinking glass that runs through the rhythm track. Well, he’s referring to aquatic sojourns through Cambridge water meadows, more than likely with imbibing involved, so that’s probably appropriate, but still...

After those decidedly odd percussion effects Hymn‘s percussion click track is rather conventional as Ayers’ multi-tracked vocals and Wyatt’s restrained harmonies hover over a melismatic melody in a gentle ballad that’s as charming to the same degree that its predecessor was odd.

Finally there’s Beware Of The Dog, a minute and a half of swelling orchestration by David Bedford that finishes the album proper with a rousing finale and the observation that She said 'you're not happy, you're just stoned', which was, of course, probably true.

As far as the bonus tracks go, Clarence in Wonderland gets a reggae makeover on Connie On A Rubber Band, and the result is a cheerful bit of fun, as is Caribbean Moon's melodic calypso. Not much substance but a fair bit of levity. Take Me To Tahiti is slightly more serious but still good fun. A Bob Harris session from 11 April 1973 provides live versions of Interview, Oh! Wot A Dream and Shouting In A Bucket Blues that are quite acceptable without adding anything to the originals.

AS his final release on Harvest before jumping ship and heading to Island, Bananamour delivers some of Ayers’ most accomplished and accessible work, and lays the foundation for The Confessions of Dr. Dream and Other Stories’ quest for mainstream success.

It didn’t quite work out that way, of course, but here Ayers managed to combine his Mediterranean muse with enough concessions to glam rock and the mainstream rock market to suggest that it just might.

Kevin Ayers "Joy of a Toy" (4*)

First, the back story.

At the end of a long jaunt around the USA opening for the Jimi Hendrix Experience, Kevin Ayers was exhausted from the grind of touring, quit Soft Machine, announced he was retiring from the music business, sold his bass to Noel Redding and retreated to the hippy haven of Ibiza. Ayers had contributed much of the material for The Soft Machine, and had obviously impressed Hendrix, who presented him with an acoustic Gibson J-200 guitar on the last night of the tour, extracting a promise that Ayers would continue with the writing.

More than eighteen months later (Ayers was never a bloke to hurry about things, and I’ve seen his personality described as laissez-faire sloth) he was back in London at Abbey Road Studios cutting his first solo album with a little help from Robert Wyatt (drums) and David Bedford, who did the arrangements and contributed piano and mellotron. Ayers looked after the guitar and most of the bass parts, Softs mates Mike Ratledge and Hugh Hopper turned up on Song for Insane Times and the whole exercise cost the Harvest label a reasonably hefty £4000.

Eighteen months in the Mediterranean with an acoustic guitar is almost certain to produce something a fair bit more laid back than the manic organ/bass/drums conflagration that characterised his former outfit (they’d been known to do something like We Did It Again for a quarter of an hour when opening for Hendrix in the States) and from the start of the album it’s obvious he’s headed in another direction. Joy of a Toy Continued is an infectious la la singalong instrumental that bears absolutely no resemblance to the Softs as far as the instrumentation goes (brass, woodwinds, bass and drums, not an organ in sight) and not too much to the track on The Soft Machine that it supposedly continues. It is, however, something of an ear-worm.

Woodwinds and strings lead into Town Feeling and odd guitar solos fill in between verses that seem to be setting out to evoke a rural community where there might be something lurking below the surface. Today, the town seems like a tomb / Everybody’s locked up in his room delivers a hint of something, anyway. There is, however, nothing covert about The Clarietta Rag, a jaunty little pop number complete with a fuzz guitar solo over what sounds like a trombone wheezing away.

There isn’t anything ambiguous about Girl on a Swing, a slice of summery love song with piano and odd mellotron tones Very much in the spirit of the times assuming you weren’t getting down with the revolutionary rhetoric. Not much of that in the sunny Mediterranean, particularly in outposts of Franco’s Spain.

His old colleagues from Soft Machine join Ayers for Song for Insane Times which takes a pot shot at pseudo-liberated narcissistic groovers joining in the chorus of I Am the Walrus, while Stop This Train (Again Doing It) delivers a six minute nightmare about a train that never stops and accelerates into some trademark Mike Ratledge strangled organ through the manic soloing that comprises the second half of the track. Eleanor's Cake (Which Ate Her) delivers a gentle dreamy acoustic number with springtime flutes and leads directly into The Lady Rachel, another five minutes of nocturnal ramblings with an interesting instrumental break and a charmingly sunny chorus.

Oleh Oleh Bandu Bandong takes a semi-robotic bass and drum riff, marries it to two of Benny Hill's Ladybirds vocalising a Malaysian folk-song and then heads off into increasingly avant garde otherworldliness to end up in a chaotic discordant-edge mess. From there you need something to wind things up on a more positive note. All This Crazy Gift of Time manages to do that very well indeed, winding up an album that’s full of invention and variety.

Predictably, with the album proper out of the way it’s off into bonus track territory, starting with the charming 1970 single Singing A Song In The Morning, which follows on nicely from All This Crazy Gift of Time in a way these things don’t always manage to. A Top Gear session delivers a Whole World version of Clarence in Wonderland with a vocal contribution from Robert Wyatt, a Stop This Train that also features the Whole World with Coxhill wailing away and Bedford chipping in with odd discordant piano motifs, a reworked Why Are We Sleeping that veers off into Whole World avant garde free jazz territory and a maddening little ditty called You Say You Like My Hat featuring (I think) Robert Wyatt on kazoo.

When it comes to bonus tracks, two separate copies of an album have been known to deliver two sets of those buggers as well. The 2003 CD re-release came bundled with two alternate takes of The Lady Rachel (a longer orchestral version from the Odd Ditties compilation and a slightly shorter single version that seemingly didn’t make it onto the marketplace), three takes of Singing a Song in the Morning (two of them labelled as Religious Experience, one of which features the alleged presence of Syd Barrett) and Soon Soon Soon, all of which are nice to have but don’t add a great deal to the album itself.

Taken as a whole, Joy of a Toy comes across as very much a product of its era, which for someone who lived through the period in question isn’t a bad thing, though those unfamiliar with or daunted by exposure to whimsical English psychedelia may find their mileage varies substantially.

While it’s not Ayers’ masterwork (and there’s a fair body of opinion that would suggest he never managed to deliver one) Toy’s syncretic blend of English music hall elements, warped pop sensibilities, Malayan and Mediterranean languor, lysergic psychedelia, and the French       i indicated a potential that was worth further investigation.

Kevin Ayers "Whatevershebringswesing" (4*)

While The Whole World didn’t last, and, on the surface you wouldn’t have expected it to, David Bedford and Mike Oldfield stayed in the picture for the 1971 sessions that produced Kevin Ayers’ third, and arguably most acclaimed album. In between Shooting at the Moon and Whatevershebringswesing, Ayers had been gigging across Europe with Daevid Allen's band, which explains the presence of saxophonist Didier Malherbe after the departure of Lol Coxhill,

Having worked through Joy of a Toy and Shooting at the Moon the collision of disparate styles hardly comes as a surprise, but here the different styles work together better than they had in the past, from the symphonic notes that start There is Loving > Among Us > There is Loving through to the end of the Didier Malherbe flute solo on Lullaby, with plenty of territory covered in between.

The Whatever sessions started before the demise of The Whole World, which accounts for the David Bedford writing credit (Among Us) stuck in the middle of the two slices of Ayers’ There Is Loving. There’s a fair slice of similar vibe to Pink Floyd’s Atom Heart Mother here, in Bedford’s symphonic, brass heavy orchestral arrangement, but after an avowedly experimental beginning Margaret turns out to be a rather straightforward ballad, intimate in a perfectly romantic setting with understated orchestration.

From there light and shade factors and what comes next probably explain the lightweight New Orleans vibe that runs through Oh My, three minutes of lightweight before the sombre introduction to Song from the Bottom of a Well, which looks back to The Soft Machine’s Why Are We Sleeping? and forwards to Dr. Dream, four and a half minutes marries an experimental arrangement with Oldfield to the fore with a cryptic lyric Intoned in a creepy voice that sounds like it’s coming from a well, tomb or grave, guttural and brimming with foreboding over a barrage of jarring sound effects and dissonant elements.

And after the subterranean spookiness, Whatevershebringswesing's extended bass solo introduction, swirling female harmonies and languid warmth leads into a prime slice of languid warmth with what’s probably the most accurate summary of Ayers approach to life in the chorus (So let's drink some wine / and have a good time / but if you really want to come through / let the good times have you*) with Wyatt's fragile high-pitched treble warbling away in the background and an extended understated solo from Mike Oldfield. Gorgeous, and, for me, the highlight of the album.

There’s a bit of competition in that department from Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes, another expression of the Ayers approach to things with classic rock and roll references, the hip exile (one imagines) faced with a stuffy maitre d’ in a restaurant with pretensions above its actual station. Catchy, old fashioned rock and roll that Ayers obviously enjoyed, re-recording it a couple of times on subsequent projects.

According to Mike Oldfield Champagne Cowboy Blues came about in two parts. Arriving at Abbey Road to find no one else had bothered to turn up on time, Oldfield and engineer Peter Mew filled the waiting time by putting together a track. You can do a fair bit in an hour and a half if you put your mind to it, and when Ayers finally arrived Oldfield had an entire track: all the overdubbing, the percussion, the guitar and bass and the studio staff singing impromptu lyrics.

Ayers mightn’t have been happy about the whole thing, but he kept the backing track, cut a snatch of the circus theme from Joy Of A Toy Continued into the middle, came up with a new set of words and the result was a lightweight drinking song that’s pleasant enough without giving the listener anything to write home about. The album proper closes with Lullaby an appropriately titled pastoral instrumental featuring Didier Malherbe's liquid flute accompanied by piano and a running brook.

As far as the inevitable bonus tracks go, with two versions, we get two sets. The 2003 remastered version delivers Stars (the B side to the Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes single), Don’t Sing No More Sad Songs and Fake Mexican Tourist Blues from Odd Ditties and a previously unreleased early mix of Stranger in Blue Suede Shoes.

Stars, with that female chorus that’ll be all too familiar half way through Bananamour, has a definite trace of Vanilla Fudge, Don’t Sing No More Sad Songs waltzes along over a jangling piano with female harmonies and Fake Mexican Tourist Blues probably goes close to redefining the concept of throwaway...

Then there’s The Harvest Years 1969-1974 box set version, which throws up Stars and Fake Mexican Tourist Blues again, but pads the thing out with half a dozen tracks from a BBC Bob Harris session (Lunatic’s Lament, Oyster and the Flying Fish, Butterfly Dance, Whatevershebringswesing, Falling in Love Again and Queen Thing).

Languid and reflective, Whatevershebringswesing delivers (largely) uncomplicated ballads, light on prog rock pretensions with some of Ayers' most appealing compositions. It might fall short of the ambitious peaks in his earlier work, but overall it’s more consistent and the average listener will probably be glad to be away from the jarring discordant elements that creep in when Kevin’s colleagues decide to go all experimental on us.

Ayers: “That’s, basically, how I’ve lived my life, that’s my feeling about life.”