Uriah Heep: High and Mighty (1976)
Dreams die every day in rock 'n' roll and a significant one was dying 50 years ago (or thereabouts) for Uriah Heep and their founding singer David Byron, who, unbeknownst to most, had recorded his final album (their ninth) with the heavy metal pioneers in 1976's High and Mighty.
The tour that followed was plagued by widening internal rifts, but the most obvious centered around Byron's alcohol-impaired performances, which ultimately escalated into an "either he goes or I go" standoff with band leader Ken Hensley.
In truth, Heep's problems ran much deeper (Heeper?) and included increasing distrust in longtime manager, label owner, and producer, Gerry Bron, who was barred from the studio this time around so Hensley could dominate proceedings, instead.
Hensley wound up writing every song, two with bassist John Wetton (ex-King Crimson, future Asia), who also handled lead vocals on the opening "One Way or Another" in what could only be seen as a passive-aggressive warning shot at Heep's unreliable frontman.
Alas, this petty ploy backfired almost immediately, just as soon as Byron made a typically dramatic entrance on the ensuing "Weep in Silence": preening like a peacock and packing the punch of his powerhouse vocals, which in no way betrayed his ailing health.
Most of the material that followed exchanged the heavy prog and fantastic lyrics of yesteryear for mainstream rock (e.g. "Misty Eyes," "Woman of the World," "Can't Stop Singing"), but then, so had preceding LPs dating all the way back to '73's Sweet Freedom.
Partial exceptions like "Midnight," the slide guitar-infused "Make a Little Love," and the ominous "Footprints in the Snow" (another, more direct message to Byron, highlighted by a spiraling Mick Box guitar lick) didn't even try to climb previous heights of epic-length inspiration.
But I happen to enjoy these numbers for what they are, as well as the throwback swirling synths and good humor of "Can't Keep a Good Band Down," which delivered a final display of defiant band unity against Uriah Heep's critics:
"I can't believe y'all still sayin';
We're a long way from rock 'n' roll;
You won't look for the good in the tunes we're playin';
You prefer to say we got no soul;
But day after day, in town after town;
People say we're doin' alright;
We play and we stay boogyin' down;
And rockin' on into the night;
It's breath and words and time you're wastin';
When you should be tryin' to have a good time;
For a good few years it's been yours we've tasted;
So here's a little piece of our mind;
We'll roll and we'll roll and we'll roll and we'll roll;
Till we run out of reason to try;
If it happens you don't approve;
It don't matter, we won't ask why;
You can't keep a good band down;
You'll never find the solution;
You won't stop us runnin' around;
You're dealin' with an institution;
We'll fill our cup with wine while you ...
Fill your head with high ideals;
You know so much but you still can't touch;
Till you find out how it feels;
It'll take much more than the high and mighty;
To bring down the king of the road;
We could still be friends and quit this fightin';
And let the real story be told;
You can't keep a good band down;
You'll never find the solution;
You won't stop us runnin' around;
With your paragraphs of pollution;
You can't keep a good band down."
Unfortunately, unremarkable record sales suggested fans were also torn on Uriah Heep's musical direction, and few observers saw Byron's apologetic words ("I'm so sorry for the things I've done") on the poignant, piano-led "Confession" for the emotional swan song it turned out to be. (*)
Not that his ousting could solve the group's deeper problems, as Wetton also quit (replaced by erstwhile Spider from Mars Trevor Bolder) ahead of Heep's hastily recorded 1977 follow-up, Firefly, featuring former Lucifer's Friend frontman John Lawton.
Sure, Uriah Heep would carry on (still does!), long after Lawton and even Hensley gave up the fight, but I myself have little love for the pedestrian monolith of nostalgia still led by the indefatigable Box -- heavy metal's ultimate "guitar zero." (**)
As for David Byron, though he tried to keep the dream alive with a busy work schedule fronting Rough Diamond and the Byron Band, he was never able to defeat Demon Alcohol and finally succumbed to directly related health complications in 1985 at the age of 37.
* CD reissues of High and Mighty unearthed a very decent outtake called "Name of the Game," well worth checking out.
** Let me explain: I say "guitar zero" because Box is surely the most invisible lead guitarist of heavy metal's '70s generation, headlined by fretboard giants (a.k.a. "heroes") like Page, Iommi, Blackmore, Tipton, Downing, Schenker, Roth, et al.
More Uriah Heep: Uriah Heep, Salisbury, Look at Yourself, Demons and Wizards, The Magician’s Birthday, Live January 1973, Sweet Freedom, Wonderworld, Return to Fantasy.
