Lost Ears (Gull Records)

"Let me take you back... back through the mists of time..."

Arthur Brown, his voice heavy with mystery and intrigue, was casting his mind back to an extraordinary period during an erratic career. For Mr Brown has known supreme heights and plummeted to great depths during the ten years or so since he first emerged in the hippie summer of 67 with the Crazy World of Arthur Brown and a remarkably powerful piece of music known to all who ever donned beads and kaftans as "Fire".

Arthur Brown has been hailed as a hero of the underground, discussed in the serious Sunday press, vilified as a blasphemer, feted as a pop star and jailed for crimes against decency and mankind. And yet... beneath it all lurks a kindly family man with a sense of humour that he finds difficult to contain and bubbles never far from the surface.

And he also happens to be one of those original talents who pioneers new ideas without always getting just rewards or credit. Arthur has never taken the easy course, he has always tried to avoid the obvious and mundane, and even when his fortunes were at a low ebb, and in times of personal crisis, he has held onto his wit and intelligence.

In the mid seventies respect is growing for the man Alice Cooper has claimed as an influence and who was ahead of his time in a wide variety of musical developments.

Arthur Brown - Requiem (Republic)

Requiem is an end-of-the-world concept album that comes on with a bang, not a whimper, and may well be the best thing that Arthur Brown has ever done. It's got all of the sonic excess you'd expect from the man who gave us "Fire", but Brown's ornate art-rock tendencies are invariably backed up with enough visceral punch to make them marvellously affecting, not merely affected, while producer Earl Mankey handles the electronics well enough to maintain an unusually high level of interest and detail. A remarkable album and well worth writing away for.

Arthur Brown with Jimmy Carl Black: "Brown, Black & Blue"

On the night that I was listening to this record, a loud booming voice came out of nowhere (and I can only assume that it was God), and said, "THIS IS GOOD". I'd be a fool to argue with that, not because the Big Guy said it, but because it's true.

This is the same Arthur Brown, who in the late '60s proclaimed that he was the god of Hellfire... and you know the rest. That was fun and goofy and whatever, but now, on Brown, Black & Blue, he teams up with ex-Mothers of Invention drummer Jimmy Carl Black to move, groove, slice, dice, growl, howl and literally hypnotise you into a Rhythm and Blues frenzy.

Forget any of the commercial R&B pablum that's being whoreishly put out by second rate wankers, Blue Wave Records has what you need AND what you want.

"The Austin Christmas Collection"

Who would have thought, in 1968, that renowned British weirdo Arthur "God of Hellfire" Brown would be caroling on the 1984 edition of "The Austin Christmas Collection"? I still don't know how the guy ending up producing in Austin, but his synthesised version of the traditional English carol 'The Lord of the Dance' is a highlight on this year's local Christmas compilation. The record closes with the most famous Austinite of all, Willie Nelson, singing 'Silent Night' solo with his legendary acoustic guitar.

Arthur Brown's Kingdom Come - Jam

I have to confess I was disappointed with this - I was going to say "ultimately disappointed", but worse still is the fact that the rot set in long before the end. "Prematurely disappointed", perhaps. Kingdom Come were formed in September 1970 when The Crazy World of Arthur Brown spontaneously combusted after a hectic American tour. Hailed as being the original of that often most dubious of bands a 'multi-media experience', Kingdom Come has a somewhat revolving personnel, the best of which unfortunately didn't record: the line-up which included Andy McCulloch on drums, Andy Dalby on guitar, Des Fisher on bass, plus Arthur on vocals toured Italy in early '71, but the brilliant McCulloch was replaced by Slim Steer in time for the recording of 'Galactic Zoo Dossier' the following October. Similarly the final fabulous version of the band which included Andy Dalby on vocals and guitar, Phil Shutt on bass, Vic Peranio on mellotron and theramin, a couple of light show operatives named Dave plus Arthur operating "Bentley", the crazed home-made drum machine, failed to lay anything more down for posterity than a handful of tracks at Rockfield in May 1972. The line-up that recorded the sessions recently uncovered by Voiceprint and entitled 'Jam' however was an earlier incarnation altogether, the original Kingdom Come in fact with Rob Tait on drums, Goodge Harris on keyboards, Bob Ellwood on guitars, Dave Ambrose on bass and Pete Bailey on percussion - plus, of course, the ubiquitous and inimitable Arthur Brown on vocals. They're competent enough, but lack the empathy in places that a seasoned band requires. Consequently track 1 (nothing here has been titled), despite all its phasing and early promise, cascades downwards into a shambolic percussive whirlpool, and track 5 features little but Arthur's vocals sounding for all the world like an outtake from one of the weaker Dr. Who episodes. Possibly you had to be there. Track 4 is an early version of 'Sunrise' - but without Dalby's blistering guitar solo or indeed any recognisable structure at all - track 7 is a reassuringly solid guitar/keyboards blues jam which is atypical Kingdom Come and interesting for all that, but which comes across as workmanlike rather than inspired. The finest piece on this CD is undoubtedly the jam which spans track 8 and 9; Arthur is in splendidly bizarre voice and the band shoot off in all manner of strange new directions instead of dutifully charging along behind him. Taken altogether though, 'Jam' is an interesting confection, but no more than that. Maybe I was just expecting too much of it.