Terry Reid - The Other Side of the River

Pitchfork 84

In 1968, Aretha Franklin reportedly said: “There are only three things happening in England: The Rolling Stones, The Beatles and Terry Reid.” And the deeper you delve into Reid's music, the more astonishing it becomes that he has lived out the past half-century in relative obscurity, while so many of his contemporaries have been enshrined as rock music royalty for decades. Due to his uncanny ability to channel raw emotion through his bombastic voice, Reid picked up the nickname Superlungs at the beginning of his career, turned down the opportunity to front Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple, and set out for a uncompromising solo career. In 1973, at the age of 24, he released River, a near-flawless album of roots, blues, rock 'n' roll, folk and jazz that quickly became a collector's item as it revolved in and out of print for years. The Other Side of the River is a new collection of 11 tracks from River's session, six of which are previously unheard, and the stunning part is, had they been released with the original LP, it would probably be even more coveted than it is today.

Take, for example, “Avenue (F# Boogie),” a rambling and rollicking number that lazily directs you into the heart of the album. The newly unearthed version has a lived-in, worn-out feel: you can easily picture a gang of long-haired dudes with mutton chop sideburns lounging around a studio, cracking off riff after riff. Ike and Tina Turner's Ikettes are featured on backing vocals on the track, and their infusion of lush R&B warmth ties the chorus together with spine-tingling effect. It's gorgeous, and in a way improves on the already-fantastic, tighter studio version.

Clearly, having ready access to the talents of the Ikettes never hurt anyone, but the main star in virtually everything Terry Reid ever released is his otherworldly voice. On every song, it bursts forth with equal parts gravel and honey; his soulful belting is effortless and at the same time, sounds almost painful. On “Let's Go Down,” his vocals ride crescendoing blasts of brass up and down the chorus, alternating from a surly talk-sing to chest-bursting wails. The song is a perfect introduction to Reid as Superlungs – even setting aside his virtuoso guitar playing, he's an artist defined by an incredible natural instrument.

The sound on The Other Side of the River is impeccable, but the tracks themselves are obvious rescues from a very deep vault (“Let's Go Down” finishes with Reid cutting the track short, quipping: “Do you want to have another go, or shall we end it here?”), which makes the fact that it sounds like a well-rounded and complete record all the more impressive. Title track “River” is probably the closest to its original, Reid's jazzy phrasings mimicking the languid semi-tones of Nina Simone, skipping atop plucked guitars and minimal bossa nova percussion. It's a quiet moment that demands your attention, and an admirable palette cleanser from the album's more raucous moments.

The record's only major fault is that a few of the tracks are truly just studio noodling – “Celtic Melody,” while still an interesting listen due to Reid's inherent charm, peters out before it really starts, and “Late Night Idea” is basically just that. But given that the bulk of the album manages to rival its original incarnation, these transgressions are excusable, and even the few mostly improvisational outtakes, like the sweet and lilting “Anyway,” prove to be well worth salvaging from the cutting room floor. Light years from a mere slap-dash rarities compilation, The Other Side of the River takes some of a seminal rock musician's most interesting sketchworks and reimagines them as his magnum opus.