NAZZ NAZZ is 50

When it came time to record their second album, Nazz really had their act together.

All members were apple-cheeked, talented and barely into their twenties. Todd Rundgren provided strong songs, was de facto producer/arranger and burned up the frets with his lead playing. Robert "Stewkey" Antoni handled lead vocals and keyboards like a seasoned pro, with supporting harmonies from his band mates. Carson Van Osten approached the bass with the chops of Jack Bruce while drummer Thom Mooney flew across the kit like a caffeinated Keith Moon.

This mesmerizing set was released 50 years ago today.

Heralded by a manic snare drum build-up, with instrumental swells accented by a crisp bell, the lads forcefully kick down the door on "Forget All About It". Transitions happen at lightning speed, with 180 degree swings from the verse to the hooky chorus. The intro passage reappears briefly (a nod to Cream's "White Room") before the quick, stinging solo from Rundgren. The quiet, keyboard-centric breakdown is a masterstroke. Van Osten excels, with roller-coaster bass runs throughout. All of this action is packed into three and a half minutes.

If you haven't got time to rest, then take the record off now

"Not Wrong Long" follows. Short and sweet with piano and organ sitting prominently together in the mix, there is a hint of Big Pink era Band here, if only in feel. Pulled from the pack as the taster single this one (surprisingly) didn't score on the charts at the time, though it is more than worthy.

Ride my chariot, baby!

Keeping the energy high, "Rain Rider" is another stunner with great harmonies. Highlighted by Antoni's dexterous work on keys, the performance is tight and punchy. The first side then takes a detour down a softer alley. "Gonna Cry Today" points toward the solo work that Rundgren would soon be indulging in and wouldn't sound out of place on Something/Anything?. Out of left field is the best descriptor for the multi-part "Meridian Leeward", with quirky lyrics, complexity in arrangement and a creepy vibe. Must be heard to be believed, though it is fantastic as it is strange. The closer to the first half of the program features Mooney inserting short bursts of solo fills, at dentist drill speed, on the proto-metal "Under the Ice". These guys were an exceptionally tight band and they pull out all of the stops in flame-thrower fashion. This should have been sequenced as the last track, as it kills everything that comes after.

Which brings us to the second side. Solid, blues inflected rock sums up "Hang On Paul", "Kiddie Boy" and "Featherbedding Lover". All have requisite gunslinger solos and showcase the players well, though they lack the innovation of their predecessors. Rumor has it that Rundgren was pushing for this to be a double album, including more esoteric compositions in which he took inspiration from the work of Laura Nyro. His colleagues and the record company disagreed, choosing to boil the sessions down to a single disc. This would lead to his departure shortly after Nazz Nazz was issued. Coincidentally, the compromise may well have been the inclusion of the final two cuts. "Letters Don't Count" is as beautiful as it is concise. Closing in grand style is the sprawling, "A Beautiful Song", which clocks in at nearly twelve minutes and veers from instrumental riff-fest to a soft, harmony driven section before bowing out on an "everything WITH the kitchen sink" ending. If you listen closely, Todd even provides Pink Floyd with a guitar figure that they would deploy a decade later, midway through "Hey You". Wrapping up on a majestic note, this would, sadly, mark the end of their activity as a group. 1971 saw the record label put out Nazz III. Comprised entirely of the songs recorded during sessions for Nazz Nazz (but excised from the LP), it was merely a postscript as opposed to a new project.

What happened?

As mentioned earlier, their chief songwriter bailed out. The resulting album, fine as it is, didn't find the massive audience that it was rightly deserving of. Whether it was the lack of a hit single, failure on the part of the record company to properly promote Nazz Nazz or a low band profile, with Rundgren gone all of these factors would be moot.

The great shame in all of this is unfulfilled promise. Production standards were top class, the songwriting and playing first rate. In an alternate reality, this compelling work should have struck gold and allowed for at least another recording by the quartet. Every bit the equal of the work that was being turned out by their contemporaries, Nazz Nazz should be treated to a 50th anniversary repackaging, with bonus cuts and liner notes that loudly sing the praises of this underappreciated gem. Spinning this now, it's remarkable to hear how fresh it sounds. All a testament to the wizard and true star behind the board. For those who are already initiated, you get it. If you aren't acquainted with Nazz Nazz, seek out a vinyl copy and crank it up.