I first found out about H.P. Lovecraft (the band) from a
mention in the Arkham Collector, a
newsletter published by Arkham House, the small press dedicated the preserving
the literary heritage of H. P. Lovecraft (the author) and other Weird Tales
stalwarts. It pretty much said “the album is good if you like that kind of
thing,” but it did result in my buying the band’s eponymous first album. Given
my expectations of what their music would sound like, I was vaguely
disappointed, although I liked The White
Ship (the only song on the record with a direct Lovecraftian pedigree, albeit
a story from his early Dunsany-like period rather than the later cosmic horror
stuff) and the band’s version of Dino Valenti’s Let’s Get Together. Even so, I later bought H.P. Lovecraft II, but it largely went unplayed. Fast forward to a
few years ago, when I began contributing to a best of
the Sixties Facebook page. The first song I remember posting was The White Ship, followed soon after by Let’s Get Together. I’ve been thinking
about them ever since, and recently decided to revisit the first album.
The band started when George Edwards (real name Charles
Kenning), who played on the Chicago and California folk circuit, met David
Michaels (real name Dave Miotke), a folk and jazz keyboardist-vocalist. Edwards
was signed to Dunwich Records, whose co-owners were Lovecraft fans―hence
the name of the label―and who suggested the band’s name. Curiously, Bill Traut, one
of the owners, actually knew August Derleth, the godfather of Arkham House, and
got his permission to use the name. (Note: Given the murky history of the
rights to Lovecraft’s work, who knows whether they needed his permission or
not?)
Now to the music―I’ve been listening to this album a
lot and really like it. Edwards and Michaels provide some great harmonies on
the vocal parts and Michaels’s keyboard work is very effective. The White Ship, an Edwards original,
actually does conjure up some of the spookiness of the original story. To my
mind, the stirring Let’s Get Together is
the best version of this song, with the vocalists’ yearning for a better world striking
a particularly poignant note in today’s ugly political and social scene. Fred
Neil’s That’s the Bag I’m In, perfect
for a Monday morning, is another showcase for Edwards and Michaels. That’s How Much I Love You (More or Less) is
a laidback, jazzy surprise, with some overdubbed wordless vocalizing (a number
of tracks overdub horns, etc., which generally works well). Another favorite is
Country Boy & Bleecker Street, a
folk-tinged song with a strong ending.
Overall, the band and the record are excellent―they
could have been way bigger if musicality were the sole criterion for success
(ha!). Bill Graham must have thought so, because after hearing the record, he
brought the band out to the West Coast and booked them opposite such star acts
as Donovan, Procol Harum, Pink Floyd, and Quicksilver Messenger Service. One of
their performances is available as H.P.
Lovecraft: Live, May 11, 1968, which I hope to discuss in the near future.
The touring brought the band greater recognition but took a toll on them
personally―the
fate of all too many bands, past and present, as I’ll discuss when I review
their second and last studio album.
Both H.P. Lovecraft albums are available on a Rev-Ola CD, along
with excellent liner notes by Nick Warburton. However, the graphic designer who designed the
booklet apparently thought that the goal was to make the notes as hard to read
as possible, so he used a godawful, predominantly orange and yellow background
for the tiny text―may the fungi from Yuggoth smite him!
Here are just a few of my favorite tracks from H.P. Lovecraft.
