Crestfallen triumphs such as SF Sorrow (unquestionably the first rock opera, but overshadowed by Tommy and The Pretty Things’ own 1970 LP Parachute, the only Rolling Stone Album Of The Year not to be�awarded a gold disc) would have been hard artistic yardsticks for even The Pretty Things themselves, let alone any other group, but this first new offering for seven years may endure as a magnum opus too.
Rarely has guitarist Dick Taylor’s undervalued guitar playing been captured so inventively; or fellow founder member Phil May’s tortuous vocal endowment been so adept, as demonstrated by a wisely understated reading of Dylan’s Ballad Of Hollis Brown, as well as the standout (Blues For) Robert Johnson, one of several originals at least the equal of any from a more high-profile past. Taped near-live, form has been determined by a thrilling margin of error, the phonographic equivalent of bottling lightning. You begin to wonder how Balboa Island might have fared if presented to a major label as the work of some unknown young band – albeit one that, however indirectly, the Things might have inspired.
