Memory is a strange thing. I owned Robin Trower’s Bridge of Sighs on 8-track in the mid-seventies, but I distinctly recall it being a horrid shade of lime green. But everywhere I look now, it’s a sandy brown. I wish I still had it, because then I’d know. But it was undoubtedly eaten by the 8-track player in my older brother’s Dodge Duster, along with innumerable other 8-tracks.
I know this piece is for The Vinyl District, but you have to love the 8-track for its general fecklessness. It was the biggest loser in the history of musical media. That click that signified the track was changing generally occurred in the middle of your favorite song, totally ruining it, just as the 8-track itself was soon thereafter ruined by the 8-track player. The life of an 8-track was nasty, brutish, and short, but I have to admit I kind of miss them, because they were like the dodo of sound technology—feckless and doomed.
So I had what I remembered as my lime green Robin Trower 8-track, and I played the hell out of the thing. This was when Trower was being labeled—rather absurdly—“the white Hendrix” and led a power trio that played a downed-up blues rock—blues rock on Quaaludes, as it were. His songs tended as often as not to be slow, mist-enshrouded, and atmospheric, while his guitar playing was totally unique thanks to his trusty Stratocaster and frequently employed whammy bar. I’ve never heard him described as a progenitor of stoner rock, but the label fits him as well as it fits Black Sabbath.
Trower made his bones playing axe for Procol Harum during their glory years, before jumping ship to join a short-lived band called Jude. When Jude failed to record Trower split, and took bassist and lead singer James Dewar with him. He then recruited Reg Isidore to play drums, and presto, the Robin Trower band was born. 1974’s Bridge of Sighs was their second release, and their most successful by leaps and bounds.
Opener “Day of the Eagle” comes out of the starting block fast, and Trower’s guitar playing is powerful, ruthless, and savage from the start. He plays gigantic power chords while Dewar delivers up lyrics about “living in the day of the eagle” until Trower plays a solo that obliterates everything before it. Then comes the cool slowdown at the end, during which Trower really lays on the whammy bar. “Bridge of Sighs” is a slow one, very moody and fogged in, and opens with chimes and a great guitar riff that’s coming to us from another galaxy. Dewar’s soulful baritone is the perfect complement to Trower’s unremittingly heavy guitar and Isodore’s drums, especially when he repeats, “Cold wind blows/The Gods look down in anger/On this poor child” as Trower plays the same guitar riff over and over and a cold wind blows, and this one put me off ever visiting the Bridge of Sighs in Venice. It doesn’t sound like a fun place.
Meanwhile, “In This Place” is as close to a power ballad as Trower ever comes. The band, again accompanied by the winds of Venus, produces a melody that—while not fantastic—is evocative as all hell. Dewar’s vocals are magical, while Trower’s guitar work is liquid gold. This is one reminds me of Bad Company, and that puts Trower in bad company, but while it’s not my fave on the LP it has its charms, the chief of which is Trower’s laid-back guitar playing. “The Fool and Me” follows; a mid-tempo jam, it opens with some commanding drum work and Trower’s Hendrix-like guitar spew. “Nobody knows,” sings Dewar, “No one but the fool in me,” after which Trower shows off his chops, going berserk on the whammy bar and generally demonstrating that if he’s no white Hendrix, he’s still a goddamn great guitarist.
“Too Rolling Stoned” is a classic of guitar wank, with Trower playing a chucka-chucka opening riff followed by some fantastic riffs. Dewar sings up a storm and then Trower really lets loose, playing a lengthy and incredible solo before the song seems to shut down. Instead they return to play a slow, ploughing blues that features Dewar singing, “Too rolling stoned” over and over until Trower launches into a slow solo that is pure bliss and goes on forever. This baby was perfect for hitting the bong to back in the day—pneumatic, psychotic, and between Dewar’s exclamations and Trower employing the whammy bar to give tune a twilight sound, a true classic of its decade. Trower isn’t a household name but he should be on the merits of “Too Rolling Stoned” alone. “About to Begin” is another slow one, and a bit too precious for my tastes, despite Trower’s delicate and tasteful guitar work and more classy drumming by Isodore. I’d like it better if it wandered off track a bit, and maybe featured a guitar solo or two, but alas, even the best albums have their Plain Jane, and this is Bridge of Sighs’.
The fast paced “Lady Love,” with its great opening cowbell, is far more to my tastes, despite the bad lyrics. Dewar’s vocals hold down the fort on this one, while Trower plays first one solo that defies human comprehension, then a second guitar solo that defies human comprehension, and so on. Album closer “Little Bit of Sympathy” is all electric glory, with Trower playing a guitar so heavy I’m surprised he could pick it up. Lots of distortion, that’s the ticket, as Dewar pleads for a little bit of sympathy, after which Trower launches into a solo that is all mayhem and cataclysm, until the unfortunate fadeout. You’ve got to hand it to Trower; for blues-oriented rock guitarist he kept his songs short, leaving you wanting more, as opposed say to Hendrix or Steve Marriott, who both played like they were getting paid by the note.
Bridge of Sighs is not a great album, but it’s a damned good one, and as I said before I consider The Robin Trower Band one of rock’s best, and most underrated trios. I’ll never hear them on 8-track again—dollars to donuts the damn thing changed tracks right in the middle of “Too Rolling Stoned”—but I, just an hour or so ago solved a mystery that threatened to drive me mad. To with, I googled the damn album, and there amongst all the sandy colored covers was one that was a proud lime green. I could have kissed my laptop screen. And the only other thing I have to say about Bridge of Sighs, other than that it’s definitely worth a listen, is that I’ll pay top dollar for a green 8-track version of the thing. You can call it nostalgia or sheer perversity, I don’t care. I just want to hold the damn thing again.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
