Machine Head is the sixth studio album released by Deep Purple, who recorded it during an uninterrupted period of time specifically set aside for the purpose, which was unlike the "here-and-there whenever we can between shows" method the very busy band usually employed.
They also wanted to capture a sound more reflective of their live shows. So, with the Rolling Stones mobile recording studio in tow, they headed to the Montreux Casino, in Switzerland, to start recording a new record. The casino always closed for repairs and refurbishments during the winter months and the band thought it would be the ideal environment to record in. In return, they agreed to perform a future show there and the initial idea was to release a double LP - half studio, half live. But during a Frank Zappa concert immediately prior to when the sessions were to begin the casino burned to the ground after a concert-goer shot a flare gun into the ceiling and inspired one of the most iconic rock songs in history. He should probably get a writing credit.
Deep Purple had been touring continuously for two years by 1971 and their previous two studio albums - Deep Purple in Rock and Fireball - were recorded between shows whenever they could find the time. But the band felt the records didn't accurately represent the energy of their live shows and decided to find an empty theatre somewhere and record the new record as though they were playing to a live audience. They also wanted to record outside of the UK so they wouldn't have to pay the crazy British income tax of the time, which was something like 90 per cent. The decision to record at Montreux Casino came about after the band played there in May, 1971, and befriended Claude Nobs, founder of the Montreux Jazz Festival. And Claude had the necessary connections.
As stated above, the last gig before the casino was to close for the winter was the Frank Zappa show. "Some stupid with a flare gun" fired into the ceiling, although there is no evidence to suggest the resulting fire was intentional. It was just youthful exuberance gone horribly wrong. At first it wasn't readily apparent that there was a fire above everybody's heads, but after about an hour sparks started to emerge from behind the ceiling's bamboo-like covering and Zappa's band, seeing them, stopped playing. Zappa allegedly grabbed a microphone and said, "No-one should panic, but ... FIRE!"
Nobs relocated Deep Purple to The Pavilion, a nearby theatre where they recorded the basic tracks for a song originally called Title No. 1. It got its proper title after bassist Roger Glover woke up one morning saying the words "smoke on the water" over and over out loud. Hearing him, Ian Gillan wrote lyrics describing the fire at the casino and the band's attempt to somehow keep on recording. The Pavilion proved to be an impractical place to record due to the complaints of people who lived nearby that flooded the local police switchboard. That's something I never would have done, but lots of people did and the band was soon evicted and "had to find another place," as the song goes.
The Grand Hotel was selected as a place that would work and the "Rolling truck Stones thing" was parked outside the main entrance, from which thick cables snaked deep into the corridors of the hotel where Deep Purple had set up their equipment off the main lobby, along with a bunch of mattresses meant to deaden unwanted echo. The hallways were so crowded and crammed that, in order to get to the mobile unit to hear playbacks of what they had recorded, the band had to traipse through bedrooms and scamper across balconies. This proved to be such a pain in the ass that they simply stopped listening to playbacks and decided to just perform until they were satisfied the songs sounded good enough played live.
The record opens with Highway Star, which was written as the band was travelling to a gig in Portsmouth on September 13, 1971. Their management had arranged for them to travel with a group of music journalists, one of whom asked Ritchie Blackmore how he wrote songs. "Like this," Blackmore replied, and picked up a guitar and played the song's opening riff. Ian Gillan improvised lyrics about being out on the highway and the band completed the arrangement during a rehearsal later that day. The song was added to the show that night and the crowd loved it. It has since became the go-to opening number of a typical Deep Purple concert. It's the song they opened with when I saw them play years later.
Smoke On The Water documents the casino fire and the recording of the album almost as if it was a were a news reel report. The song's backing track was the only usable material resulting from the Pavilion recordings, and Blackmore years later attributed the opening riff's popularity to its simple four note progression, likening it to the opening phrasing of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Interestingly, the band didn't see much commercial potential in the song.
And then there's Lazy, with its crazy keyboard-guitar intro. Based on a simple blues, but taken so much further. It really shows off the calibre of musicianship that was Deep Purple in 1971.
The record's cover art was created by stamping the title into a polished metal sheet, which was held up as a mirror that the band stood in front of. The camera took a picture of their reflection, and if you look closely you'll see the eerie trace of photographer Shepard Sherbell's silhouette (just below the Head text).
I used to have an original pressing of this record when I was a kid (it came with a hand-printed lyric sheet) but long ago either misplaced it or gave it away. I now have the 2006 Rhino release, which I have to say sounds wonderful. This kind of music isn't being made anymore and that's a real shame, and I'm really glad I got to see Deep Purple perform - with a 30-piece orchestra, no less - even though Ian Gillan's voice was pretty much shot on that particular night.
Oh, well. Machine Head a great listen. It still stands up! It is definitely …
Machine Head is the sixth studio album released by Deep Purple, who recorded it during an uninterrupted period of time specifically set aside for the purpose, which was unlike the "here-and-there whenever we can between shows" method the very busy band usually employed.
They also wanted to capture a sound more reflective of their live shows. So, with the Rolling Stones mobile recording studio in tow, they headed to the Montreux Casino, in Switzerland, to start recording a new record. The casino always closed for repairs and refurbishments during the winter months and the band thought it would be the ideal environment to record in. In return, they agreed to perform a future show there and the initial idea was to release a double LP - half studio, half live. But during a Frank Zappa concert immediately prior to when the sessions were to begin the casino burned to the ground after a concert-goer shot a flare gun into the ceiling and inspired one of the most iconic rock songs in history. He should probably get a writing credit.
Deep Purple had been touring continuously for two years by 1971 and their previous two studio albums - Deep Purple in Rock and Fireball - were recorded between shows whenever they could find the time. But the band felt the records didn't accurately represent the energy of their live shows and decided to find an empty theatre somewhere and record the new record as though they were playing to a live audience. They also wanted to record outside of the UK so they wouldn't have to pay the crazy British income tax of the time, which was something like 90 per cent. The decision to record at Montreux Casino came about after the band played there in May, 1971, and befriended Claude Nobs, founder of the Montreux Jazz Festival. And Claude had the necessary connections.
As stated above, the last gig before the casino was to close for the winter was the Frank Zappa show. "Some stupid with a flare gun" fired into the ceiling, although there is no evidence to suggest the resulting fire was intentional. It was just youthful exuberance gone horribly wrong. At first it wasn't readily apparent that there was a fire above everybody's heads, but after about an hour sparks started to emerge from behind the ceiling's bamboo-like covering and Zappa's band, seeing them, stopped playing. Zappa allegedly grabbed a microphone and said, "No-one should panic, but ... FIRE!"
Nobs relocated Deep Purple to The Pavilion, a nearby theatre where they recorded the basic tracks for a song originally called Title No. 1. It got its proper title after bassist Roger Glover woke up one morning saying the words "smoke on the water" over and over out loud. Hearing him, Ian Gillan wrote lyrics describing the fire at the casino and the band's attempt to somehow keep on recording. The Pavilion proved to be an impractical place to record due to the complaints of people who lived nearby that flooded the local police switchboard. That's something I never would have done, but lots of people did and the band was soon evicted and "had to find another place," as the song goes.
The Grand Hotel was selected as a place that would work and the "Rolling truck Stones thing" was parked outside the main entrance, from which thick cables snaked deep into the corridors of the hotel where Deep Purple had set up their equipment off the main lobby, along with a bunch of mattresses meant to deaden unwanted echo. The hallways were so crowded and crammed that, in order to get to the mobile unit to hear playbacks of what they had recorded, the band had to traipse through bedrooms and scamper across balconies. This proved to be such a pain in the ass that they simply stopped listening to playbacks and decided to just perform until they were satisfied the songs sounded good enough played live.
The record opens with Highway Star, which was written as the band was travelling to a gig in Portsmouth on September 13, 1971. Their management had arranged for them to travel with a group of music journalists, one of whom asked Ritchie Blackmore how he wrote songs. "Like this," Blackmore replied, and picked up a guitar and played the song's opening riff. Ian Gillan improvised lyrics about being out on the highway and the band completed the arrangement during a rehearsal later that day. The song was added to the show that night and the crowd loved it. It has since became the go-to opening number of a typical Deep Purple concert. It's the song they opened with when I saw them play years later.
Smoke On The Water documents the casino fire and the recording of the album almost as if it was a were a news reel report. The song's backing track was the only usable material resulting from the Pavilion recordings, and Blackmore years later attributed the opening riff's popularity to its simple four note progression, likening it to the opening phrasing of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Interestingly, the band didn't see much commercial potential in the song.
And then there's Lazy, with its crazy keyboard-guitar intro. Based on a simple blues, but taken so much further. It really shows off the calibre of musicianship that was Deep Purple in 1971.
The record's cover art was created by stamping the title into a polished metal sheet, which was held up as a mirror that the band stood in front of. The camera took a picture of their reflection, and if you look closely you'll see the eerie trace of photographer Shepard Sherbell's silhouette (just below the Head text).
I used to have an original pressing of this record when I was a kid (it came with a hand-printed lyric sheet) but long ago either misplaced it or gave it away. I now have the 2006 Rhino release, which I have to say sounds wonderful. This kind of music isn't being made anymore and that's a real shame, and I'm really glad I got to see Deep Purple perform - with a 30-piece orchestra, no less - even though Ian Gillan's voice was pretty much shot on that particular night.
Oh, well. Machine Head a great listen. It still stands up! It is definitely …
BONUS TRACK
Deep Purple has seen its share of lineup changes over time - there's been Deep Purple MK I - IV, as the band has referred to itself throughout the changes over the years - starting with the departure of singer Ian Gillan in 1973.
That was the first fracture in what is considered by most people - me included - to be the "classic" Deep Purple lineup, otherwise know as Deep Purple MK II.
"I had actually handed in my letter of resignation to the band while we were on tour in Dayton, Ohio," he told Classic Rock magazine. "I told them I intended to leave Purple at the end of the next tour. But, at the time nobody said anything at all to me. We just got on with making the new album, Who Do We Think We Are, and then we went out on the road."
The band went to Japan in June of 1973. "The last date was in Osaka on the 29th," Gillan said. "That was the end of the touring schedule, and therefore my final show with the band. Still no-one said a word to me. We got onstage, did the gig, and … well, that was it. I left the venue on my own and went back the hotel. There were no goodbyes from anybody connected to Purple. None of the other four in the band, none of the crew, nobody from management. It was almost as if it had been swept under the carpet."
But Gillan never said anything to anyone after the last gig either, saying he didn't think it felt right given the uneasy vibe amongst band members at the time. "The atmosphere in Purple was just horrible," he said. "And for me it was just such a relief to have it all done and dusted. To understand what was going on in the band you’d need to be a trained psychologist. Everyone in the line-up at the time behaved like an asshole - and I am including myself here. I was as bad as the rest of them."
What wasn’t helping, he insists, was that a lot of other people got involved and most of them had their own money-making agendas, which meant the band was worked to the nub. "If we had been able to take a break, then maybe it could have been worked out," he said. "But we were on a treadmill and I got to the point when I just had to leave."
The next day he went to the airport by himself, got on a flight and returned home. He would go on to get involved in other projects, including a brief and somewhat awkward stint fronting Black Sabbath during their Born Again phase, but would eventually rejoin Deep Purple several years later.
He remains with them to this day.
Deep Purple has seen its share of lineup changes over time - there's been Deep Purple MK I - IV, as the band has referred to itself throughout the changes over the years - starting with the departure of singer Ian Gillan in 1973.
That was the first fracture in what is considered by most people - me included - to be the "classic" Deep Purple lineup, otherwise know as Deep Purple MK II.
"I had actually handed in my letter of resignation to the band while we were on tour in Dayton, Ohio," he told Classic Rock magazine. "I told them I intended to leave Purple at the end of the next tour. But, at the time nobody said anything at all to me. We just got on with making the new album, Who Do We Think We Are, and then we went out on the road."
The band went to Japan in June of 1973. "The last date was in Osaka on the 29th," Gillan said. "That was the end of the touring schedule, and therefore my final show with the band. Still no-one said a word to me. We got onstage, did the gig, and … well, that was it. I left the venue on my own and went back the hotel. There were no goodbyes from anybody connected to Purple. None of the other four in the band, none of the crew, nobody from management. It was almost as if it had been swept under the carpet."
But Gillan never said anything to anyone after the last gig either, saying he didn't think it felt right given the uneasy vibe amongst band members at the time. "The atmosphere in Purple was just horrible," he said. "And for me it was just such a relief to have it all done and dusted. To understand what was going on in the band you’d need to be a trained psychologist. Everyone in the line-up at the time behaved like an asshole - and I am including myself here. I was as bad as the rest of them."
What wasn’t helping, he insists, was that a lot of other people got involved and most of them had their own money-making agendas, which meant the band was worked to the nub. "If we had been able to take a break, then maybe it could have been worked out," he said. "But we were on a treadmill and I got to the point when I just had to leave."
The next day he went to the airport by himself, got on a flight and returned home. He would go on to get involved in other projects, including a brief and somewhat awkward stint fronting Black Sabbath during their Born Again phase, but would eventually rejoin Deep Purple several years later.
He remains with them to this day.
