West Virginia has never exactly been a hotbed of great
rock & roll
music, but a number of burnished gems have been extracted from this famous coal-mining region down through years, few and far between as those may have been. Of the few,
Elderberry Jak
's sole 1970 album may shine with the most luster of all, and quite probably still remains the state's most significant and single finest contribution to the
hard rock
pantheon. And quite a contribution it indeed turns out to be, as this straight reissue from
Gear Fab
helps us to hear.
may be all but forgotten outside the borders of West Virginia, but they were, for a short time, something like heroes in their home region (indicated by the admiring liner notes by journalist
Tim Lilley
), and
Long Overdue
makes clear that current memories definitely are not infallible. In fact, the album's best moments hold their own rather well against such heavyweights of the era as
the Guess Who
,
Three Dog Night
the James Gang
, and
Grand Funk Railroad
, among others, all bands to which
the Jak
bears passing or incidental resemblance, and, frankly, at times surpasses. That particularly goes for the singing of
Joe Cerisano
, an inspiring holler that is every bit the equal of white soul men like
Burton Cummings
Robert Lamm
, and, especially,
Paul Rodgers
, even
Robert Plant
in its more manic moments, though
Cerisano
never drifts toward the hyperbolic, unlike
Led Zeppelin
's frontman. The band is nearly their vocalist's match in skill.
Tom Nicholas
had a chunky guitar tone that was close kin to
Joe Walsh
's viscous playing.
Dave Coombs
' basslines are wonderful, near-virtuoso things, while
Joe Hartman
pounded a novel (at the time) double-bass drum setup that gave the music its devouring rumble. It was an accomplished power-trio equally capable of playing the odd delicate
ballad
(
"Inspired,"
"My Lady"
) or breezy, romantic grooves endemic only to the era (
"Going Back Home,"
"Forrest on the Mountain"
) then letting loose with blood-cooking electric jams like the awesome
"Vance's Blues"
or the near-
metal
"Restless Feeling,"
always shot through with considerable soul. And somehow
impossibly managed to turn
Procol Harum
's
"Wish Me Well"
into a blazing white-hot piece of legitimate
funk
, only matched on the ofay side of the fence by
Grand Funk
"Nothing's the Same."
Not bad for four kids from Appalachia. ~ Stanton Swihart