So this isn't really a random-selection review. I chose this album because I was recently in Canterbury on a short side trip from London. It's a beautiful medieval city, with a river running through it and plenty of excellent taverns and pubs. It's lively, too, thanks no doubt to the student population of the University of Kent. I noticed that many pubs hosted live music, mostly on Fridays and Saturdays, although we also caught a few bands on a Sunday at what is probably the town's most rock'n'roll bar, The Lady Luck. Usually, a visit to a new town is a chance for me to map out the local record-store situation for this blog. In this case, I was unlucky, as two of the four record stores (Canterbury Rock and Vinylstore Jr.) were closed on Sundays and Mondays—the very days of my visit. The third was a local branch of the HMV chain: rather large, with new vinyl and CDs, T shirts, books, and other items. A wide variety of books were on offer "2 for £9", also many LPs "3 for £66". Another shop, called Sounds, is situated at the main town road (9 St Peter's St) it sells mostly 2nd hand LPs (£10-30,a few offers for £5) as well as a few CDs and singles. They had an interesting selection of soul, jazz, and some dance 12', but I was more interestedvin buying something by one of the highly rated bands from the Canterbury scene. In this case, nothing caught my fancy. So, upon my return, I pulled out a bunch of CDs and LPs from this subgenre already in my collection and gave them another listen.
Caravan's Cunning Stunts stood out because of its Hipgnosis cover and its title. The band clearly intended a famous spoonerism, hoping that listeners would, amusingly and embarrassingly, mispronounce the title as "Stunning Cunts". For readers unfamiliar with the term, a spoonerism is a speech error in which consonants or syllables are inadvertently swapped between words, often producing a comic effect. The phenomenon is named after a certain William Archibald Spooner, an Oxford don and priest who was reputed to make such verbal slips. Discovering this sent me down an etymological rabbit hole. Where, I wondered, does the Greek equivalent, sardam, come from? As luck would have it, the answer involves a strikingly similar story: An actor named Madras was prone to the same kind of verbal mix-ups, prompting the public to immortalize his slips with an anagram of his name. Probably not the claim to fame he imagined when he went into show business. Back to the Canterbury scene: most people trace its beginnings to a mid-1960s group called The Wilde Flowers. Although their sound was not too different from that of other beat bands of the era, many of the members were more intellectually inclined, with a strong interest in jazz and a penchant for complex arrangements. These traits, combined with a distinctly British sense of whimsy, became the defining characteristics of what would later be known as the Canterbury scene. Of the two groups that emerged from the breakup of The Wilde Flowers, Soft Machine was the more adventurous and jazz-oriented, while Caravan leaned toward a more accessible, pop-focused sound. Some (i.e. prog purists) might argue that on Cunning Stunts is even a little too commercial, but I don't think anything essential was lost in the process. Opener "The Show of Our Lives" is a pleasant piece of orchestral soft rock, featuring well-played guitar solos and exquisite vocal harmonies reminiscent of Yes and perhaps even The Beatles. "Stuck in a Hole" is a short, upbeat tune highlighted by a Stevie Wonder-ish organ or Moog synthesizer solo. "Lover" is a heavily orchestrated ballad in the vein of the Moody Blues, or perhaps those solo Lennon tracks lavishly produced by Phil Spector. It segues into "No Backstage Pass", a beautiful and melodic song that recalls the soft psychedelia of Caravan's classic Land of Grey and Pink era. Hastings delivers a fine vocal performance, supported by tasteful violin work and a slightly heavier bass presence than on earlier albums. Bassist Mike Wedgwood takes over the lead vocals on the even funkier "Welcome the Day". Although it sounds nothing like classic Caravan, it remains one of my favourite tracks on the album: radio-friendly, soulful, and featuring excellent keyboard–violin interplay. Prog fans may dislike it, but side two offers plenty to satisfy their tastes. "Dabsong Conshirto" is one of those indulgent 18-minute song suites that progheads love so much. While it begins as another accessible soft-rock number—again probably featuring Wedgwood on lead vocals—it gradually develops into an extended Canterbury-style jazz-prog workout, showcasing superb violin, flute, keyboard, and ensemble playing. The musicianship throughout is consistently impressive. The album closes with the brief, humorous ragtime-style instrumental coda "The Fear and Loathing in Tollington Park". All in all, Cunning Stunts may not be Caravan's definitive statement, nor is it the most representative album of the Canterbury scene— I doubt that a typical Canterbury scene album exists, seeing as the term encompasses a remarkably diverse range of musical approaches. Nevertheless, it remains a highly enjoyable slice of mid-1970s progressive rock: melodic, expertly performed, and certainly considerably better than its middling reputation might suggest.
**** for The Show of Our Lives, Stuck in a Hole, No Backstage Pass, Welcome the Day, Dabsong Conshirto
*** for Lover, The Fear and Loathing in Tollington Park
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