1966 and All That: AMM and The Four Tops Part One
I haven’t been doing much else in the writing department than trying to finish the first draft of my psychogeography-informed (says he) book about Crouch End (‘niche’ topics being definitely my thing). But reading the great Richard Williams’ blog (“The last of AMM”) about the final gig of the equally great AMM (30th. July) got me thinking about the improvising ensemble’s very first album, AMMusic1966, a year that also arguably marked the apogee of the career of a group that I have been listening a lot to recently, Tamla Motown’s The Four Tops. I realise that this is something of a “commodius vicus of recirculation”, as Joyce puts it in the opening of Finnegans Wake, but there you go, it was a famous year for many different forms of music.
At Saturday 30th. July (coincidently the 56th, anniversary of England winning the Jules Rimet trophy) at Cafe Oto, a duo of Eddie Prevost and Keith Rowe played what was purportedly their last ever gig as AMM. In the same July as the World Cup triumph (not repeated in any way until the Lionesses triumph just a week ago, also in the seventh month), a five member AMM recorded their first vinyl outing, on the 8th. and the 27th. I’ve talked a lot about AMM in my books, so don’t intend to dwell on them here, except to acknowledge the importance of this final performance, as the group was the last one standing, after 57 years, of the first generation of free improvisers, with AMMusic1966 being the first recorded release of genuine free improv in Britain. The group’s retirement thus represents a definite fin de siecle moment for this 'movement’.
At another remove, 1966 was a defining year for The Four Tops’ unique take on pop psychodrama. I became eleven years of age in July (a theme seems to be developing here?) 1966, and I clearly remember 'Reach Out, I’ll Be There’ There’ being number 1 in that summer, along with so many immortal pop songs, but I was too callow to appreciate both the emotional intensity of Levi Stubbs’ lead vocals or the sheer power they lent to the frequently rather subtly dark lyrics of Eddie and Brian Holland and Lamont Dozier.
To be continued.