Funk's box-office might as underground revolution. But his static obscured the band's true bared-bone mettle. Grand Funk made their reputation on tour, cutting
On Time,
Grand Funk and
Closer to Home on the run, all between August 1969 and March 1970. The flat, hard production, then a matter of time and economy, pulls the simple pow of the music upfront: Farner's high, clear tenor; the iron-treble tone of his guitar; the elephantine fuzz of Schacher's bass; Brewer's brute, John Bonham-like drive. As the main writer, Farner avoided complexity like a pox. But "Heartbreaker" and "Into the Sun," both from
On Time, and the cover of the Animals' "Inside Looking Out," on Grand Funk, are pure electric-Michigan animalism, an all-testosterone blueprint for the White Stripes.
Live Album and the previously unissued
Live: The 1971 Tour are not as punchy; the crowd noise gets in the way. But the 1971 tracks from the band's Shea Stadium shows that year are honest snapshots of Grand Funk mania at its peak.
Survival, E Pluribus Funk and Phoenix, all from 1971-72, creak with growing pains. It took producer Todd Rundgren, on 1973's We're an American Band, to polish the pop and Motown lurking inside the amp stacks. The title hit, the stampede "Black Licorice" (with its pumping keyboards by recent addition Craig Frost) and "Walk Like a Man," a hard-rock twist on the Four Seasons, are perfect bombs of sweat, sugar and steel. The late albums have their moments, like Farner's keening wail in "Bad Time" on 1974's All the Girls in the World Beware!!! Still, every train runs out of track someday.
For most folks, a hits disc will suffice. But the best of these reissues show that, for a time, Grand Funk were the people's choice. And the people were right.
DAVID FRICKE
(From RS 919, April 3, 2003)
"It's good ... 'cause like their music is getting better and better all the time, it's like, you know, what people want to hear."
"Well, they have a wide variety of music..."
"It's a sound, y'know, they do the same kind of music I like. Just the way they do it. Like we got a group and we want to do it the same way. They feel the music, that's why I like 'em. And they're good musicians, that's why I like 'em."
"Yeah, I have it, it's fantastic. The sound, you know? The way they talk to the people. They're not stuck up, you know what I mean? It's just the way they are..."
"They're good—they're talented. It could have been better . . . all their old songs are on it, and they should've done originals, y'know? Their other albums were million sellers, and their fourth one should've been the real good one. It was OK, you know?"
"Why? Their music, their music is really nice. They sound like ... I like their back beat. I don't know how to describe it, but ... uh ... it's just their music. Like their words are nice, man, their words are nice, they really get a lot of things across ... But I guess I like the music most, the beat ... it gets to me, it goes through my blood."
"They're the best . . . I read an article in your magazine and you put 'em down, man, I didn't like that. Didn't like it. Yeah, and I don't think you give 'em enough coverage, man, you really don't. You like ignore 'em, and look at the power they have here ... unbelievable! Because they're good, people love 'em ... like you keep sayin' in your magazine people are turnin' to softer, nicer music. It's not it, man, people want to go to live shows and see heavy stuff that's gonna freak 'em out, man. I really don't think you give 'em enough coverage, you really don't."
"The live one? I haven't really been into it, I don't think I'd buy it, man, I really don't. I saw 'em live in Philly, man, and I don't think you can really capture something like that on an album. Really don't."
"They seem to get better with each album—the first was all right, the second got better, the third was really good ... and the live one's just as good as that one."
"They stick up for grass."
"I saw 'em before . . . they have some stage show. I saw them down in Staten Island and I saw them at the Fillmore and I ... they're really good."
"'Cause it's really good music and it really hits the brain ... I really dig it. I like the Stones too I'd go through the same shit for the Stones too. They both really know how to get it on with a guitar and everything..."
"I just dig the talent. If they're just bullshittin' around, y'know, just screamin' and shit and they're not playing good at all, that's no good. I like, y'know, if they can play good, and they know how to think."
"They can make you feel it, y'know, feel it when they play. Get across to you."
"The way Mark Farner moves around ... He ... you know, he just expresses him
You cannot talk about rock in the 1970s without talking about Grand Funk Railroad. And you cannot talk about Grand Funk without talking about the hate: how critics pissed on them from an arrogant height. I saw Grand Funk very early on, playing for flies in Philadelphia in December 1969, and I heard in their panzer-trio brio what the snobs did not. Born in Flint, Michigan, of the same local, white-R&B lineage as Bob Seger and Mitch Ryder, singer-guitarist Mark Farner, drummer Don Brewer and bassist Mel Schacher were not cheap Cream but a no-frills, hippie-era garage band; factory-town peaceniks who rocked like warlords.
Original producer-manager Terry Knight fought the brickbats by hyping Grand Funk's box-office might as underground revolution. But his static obscured the band's true bared-bone mettle. Grand Funk made their reputation on tour, cutting On Time, Grand Funk and Closer to Home on the run, all between August 1969 and March 1970. The flat, hard production, then a matter of time and economy, pulls the simple pow of the music upfront: Farner's high, clear tenor; the iron-treble tone of his guitar; the elephantine fuzz of Schacher's bass; Brewer's brute, John Bonham-like drive. As the main writer, Farner avoided complexity like a pox. But "Heartbreaker" and "Into the Sun," both from On Time, and the cover of the Animals' "Inside Looking Out," on Grand Funk, are pure electric-Michigan animalism, an all-testosterone blueprint for the White Stripes. Live Album and the previously unissued Live: The 1971 Tour are not as punchy; the crowd noise gets in the way. But the 1971 tracks from the band's Shea Stadium shows that year are honest snapshots of Grand Funk mania at its peak.
Survival, E Pluribus Funk and Phoenix, all from 1971-72, creak with growing pains. It took producer Todd Rundgren, on 1973's We're an American Band, to polish the pop and Motown lurking inside the amp stacks. The title hit, the stampede "Black Licorice" (with its pumping keyboards by recent addition Craig Frost) and "Walk Like a Man," a hard-rock twist on the Four Seasons, are perfect bombs of sweat, sugar and steel. The late albums have their moments, like Farner's keening wail in "Bad Time" on 1974's All the Girls in the World Beware!!! Still, every train runs out of track someday.
For most folks, a hits disc will suffice. But the best of these reissues show that, for a time, Grand Funk were the people's choice. And the people were right.
DAVID FRICKE
(From RS 919, April 3, 2003)
