Sandwiched between his whimsical 1960 debut solo album Joy Of A Toy and the more focused Whatever She Brings We Sing two years later, 1970’s Shooting At The Moon is the album that Kevin Ayers’ most fervent supporters hold in the highest regard, while simultaneously accepting the laissez-faire approach to music that’s frequently held against him by his detractors. At a remove of over half a century, both sides of the argument hold water.
Augmented by The Whole World – pianist and keyboardist David Bedford, drummer Mick Fincher, saxophonist Lol Coxhill and a pre-Tubular Bells Mike Oldfield on bass and occasional guitar – Ayers works best when there’s a sense of focus about the songs.
So it is that his carefree aesthetic is wonderfully captured on opener May I?, which sounds, somewhat ironically, like a statement of intent from one so laid back as he croons, ‘May I sit and stare at you for a while?/I’d like the company of your smile’ while backed by a band that brings a lazy summer’s day to life.
Oldfield’s declamatory bass is front and centre, offset by Fincher’s gentle percussion. Elsewhere, Lunatics Lament blasts off from the launchpad of melodic rock into stratospheric experimentation, courtesy of Oldfield’s extraordinary guitar-playing that sees him strangling distorted, sustained notes while laying down foundations for later art-rockers including Blur.
Yet for these highs come the genuinely frustrating and irritating lows. Pisser Dans Un Violon is very much of its time. Some of the most self-indulgent twaddle ever committed to tape for posterity, its eight minutes feel 10 times longer with random noises and notes being thrown around by the band as Ayers tunes and detunes a bass when not scraping its strings. It’s an idea that’s replicated on the equally dire Underwater.
A mixed bag, for sure. Though seasoned observers will know what they’re in for, neophytes should start with Bananamour.
The first-time vinyl edition of Shooting At The Moon is on sale now via Esoteric.
