A Salty Dog (1969)

Avast! Welcome aboard to 40 minutes of high hippie experimentalism on the third album by that strange British ‘60s band, Procol Harum, featuring: an orchestra. And check the further musical credits, e.g., Gary Brooker: lead vocals, celeste, three-stringed guitar, bells, harmonica, wood recorder, and orchestral arrangements. Or Matthew Fisher: organ, lead vocals, marimba, rhythm and acoustic guitars, piano, recorder, and orchestral arrangements. They handed the sleigh tambourine to Robin Trower, whatever that is exactly—apparently a tambourine fitted out with sleigh bells? Trower is otherwise trying to drag the band into his own favored blues workups. He has the lead vocals on the bluesiest song here, “Crucifiction Lane,” and may or may not have disapproved of the rest. I know I was disappointed that “Pilgrim’s Progress” sounds too much like “Whiter Shade of Pale.” Put the pipe down and quit writing soundalikes, mateys! A Salty Dog somehow came to my attention well after its time, in the downloading era when I seemed to see it around a lot and finally grabbed it thinking it was going to be sea chanties, or maybe because rock critic Robert Christgau gave it an A+ (later amended to typo probably intended to be B+, which does sound like the right grade). Finally giving this album the attention in recent days that it more or less deserves, I realized it might have been one I would have liked playing back in the day along with Jethro Tull’s Benefit, the Beatles’ Hey Jude, and the Guess Who’s American Woman, if someone had similarly put it in my way. Aside from “Pilgrim’s Progress,” in fact, A Salty Dog is an interesting and reasonably entertaining batch of studio play even if there were tensions with Trower at the time. Better than the Moody Blues, I would have to say, freely admitting I have still never made my peace with the kings of college dorm orchestral mystifications. Still, if I can find room in my heart for Procol Harum (beyond “Whiter Shade of Pale,” which has always been essential) I may yet find room for the Moody Blues too (beyond “Tuesday Afternoon,” also essential). There is always hope. Meanwhile, listen up: “Boredom” features a flute, “Wreck of the Hesperus” an orchestra, and the whole Salty Dog project has a nice warm air—not necessarily of being at sea, but more like buoyed by long stoner afternoons of consecutive hours at playing albums.