Awakenings
Transplanted Northern Irish group’s three albums, from prog/psych to early Americana.
Andwella
★★★★ To Dream
NUMERO GROUP. CD/DL/LP
SPANNING THE years 1969-71, To Dream charts the progress of Andwella, principally a vehicle for the prodigious teenage talent of David Lewis: only 18 when his first album was released. Leaving Belfast in 1967, Lewis participated in the first flush of psychedelia during a summer 1968 Jersey residency. Relocating to London, Andwella released three albums between 1969 and 1971: reflecting then current trends with a strong songwriter and guitarist, they act as a window into a misunderstood and, from today’s perspective, slightly baffling era.
The first is the best. Love And Poetry
(credited to Andwellas Dream) is a psych/ prog tour de force, with crunching hard rockers (Sunday), Ray Davies-like character vignettes (Clockwork Man), ambient psych folk (Lost A Number Found A King), reworked blues standards (Cocaine), acoustic ballads with psych touches (Midday Sun) and an affectionate tribute to a friend (Felix) that climaxes in a phased wig-out. The guitar work is strong throughout, with frequent acidic flourishes; the lyrics are emotional and autobiographical.
Love And Poetry is long and perhaps a bit too stylistically disparate: whether it’s worth the £2,000 very good condition copies now fetch is moot, but this is a worthwhile and important reissue. 1970’s
World’s End is a very different beast: gone are the psychedelic touches and instead comes a funkier, rootsier approach suggested by David Lewis meeting The Band in late 1969. Named after the district in Chelsea where the group were living, the second album is a more cohesive, albeit downbeat listen.
Opener Hold On To Your Mind is a funky, conga-driven blast that became an early favourite of David Mancuso at his formative gay disco the Loft – it certainly fitted well into that club’s loose, spacious imperative. There’s several mid-paced songs (Lady Love; Back On The Road) but these are leavened by smart pacing: the bluesy instrumental Michael Fitzhenry breaks up the first side, while the full orchestrated World’s End Part 1 provides an atmospheric, cinematic start to the old side two.
If World’s End is a successful integration of a British psych/pop sensibility – especially in the arrangements – with contemporary Americana, then final album People’s
People shows the balance tipping into early-’70s world weary torpor: the Band influence is strong on songs like Are You Ready and Saint Bartholomew. Nevertheless, opener She Taught Me To Love is a rousing, infectious pop/rock tune, while The World Of Angelique and Lazy Days are attractive acoustic interludes.
Andwella’s career ended in desperation: “This is my life and I’m tr ying to so hard,” Lewis cracks on the closer All For You, “what else can I do?” David Lewis was a talented songwriter who captured the
Zeitgeist: quite apart from any personal psychology, these albums act as a time capsule of that transitional moment when the possibilities of the 1960s flared for a moment, before depression and dues beckoned. However in 1975, his song for Demis Roussos, Happy To Be On An Island In The Sun, went to Number 1 all over Europe: that’s called Pop Payback.