From The Vinyl Vault

Album: S.F Sorrow
Artist: The Pretty Things
Original Release: December 1968
Label: EMI

Think of the term ‘rock opera’ and your mind may grimace at the thought of Ben Elton and Brian May fawning over their collective ‘We Will Rock You’ trillions. Hopefully though, you’ll be reminded of The Who’s seminal pieces Tommy and Quadrophenia or even perhaps The Kinks’ Arthur. However, before there were any Pinball Wizards or Shangri-La’s, there was Sebastian F. Sorrow.

The story of Sorrow’s life through childhood, love, war, heartbreak, disaster and finally loneliness was the brainchild of The Pretty Things’ lead singer Phil May, who had originally devised it as a short story. In November 1967 however, the story leapt from the pages of May’s notebooks and into the speakers of Abbey Road studios.

S.F Sorrow saw The Pretties’ sharp left turn from hard edged R&B to psychedelics confirmed. Having flirted with orchestral string arrangements and brass sections on preceding album Emotions, they were taken under the wing of producer Norman ‘Hurricane’ Smith. Smith, having just finished working with Pink Floyd on their own psychedelic masterpiece Piper At The Gates of Dawn, acted almost as a sixth member of The Pretties and allowed them to experiment with everything from electric tone generators to Mellotrons.

The results were astounding. From the opening twangs of ‘S.F Sorrow Is Born’, it was clear we weren’t in Kansas anymore, Toto. ‘Bracelets of Fingers’, chronicling Sorrow’s sexual adolescence, is harmonious psych folk, complete with a typically LSD laden late sixties chorus of “Fly to the Moon on the curve of a spoon/ I turn upside down/ Tumbling through leaves as I scatter the seeds on an eiderdown”.

‘Private Sorrow’ is a whimsical folkish affair that wouldn’t sound out of place on The Zombies Odessey and Oracle while the not so subtly titled ‘Death’ (dealing with the heart breaking aftermath of the death of Sorrow’s girl in ‘Balloon Burning’) sounds as if it’s being preached to you from Middle Earth via the outer reaches of the Cosmos. And that’s only side one!

The star that shines brightest on S.F Sorrow arrives at the beginning of side two. ‘Baron Saturday’ quietly rumbles along for 45 seconds, all sharp vocals, shuffling drums and a slightly Eastern bass line before BAM! It hits you square in the face. The mellotron kicks in and you’re hooked with no way out.

What makes this accomplishment in musicianship and song writing all the more astounding is the fact that three years previously, The Pretty Things had infuriated a producer to the point where he quit midway through their session, unable to summon anything worthwhile from them. Fast forward three years and May, along with lead guitarist (and one time Rolling Stones bassist) Dick Taylor, had been joined by Jon Povey and Wally Waller, replacing the outgoing Brian Pendleton and John Stax, with Twink completing the five piece on drums.

 It would only take less than a year after S.F Sorrow’s release for the band to once again undergo personnel changes however, as Taylor and Twink both left the group, who fell disillusioned by the lack of commercial success Sorrow gained.

The album draws to a close in typically dark fashion with the Spanish Xian garage smack of ‘Old Man Going’ and the hauntingly stark ‘Loneliest Person’ which signs the story off with the line, “Yes you might be the loneliest person in the world/ Your name it would have to be me”.

The depressing narrative of the piece, coupled with its EMI’s lack of promotion and it being released in the same week as the three little known albums The White Album, Beggar’s Banquet and The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society caused S.F Sorrow to be criminally underappreciated at the time. However, it’s lasting influence is undeniable, and whether Pete Townshend will ever admit it (let’s face it, he won’t) Sorrow played a major part in the construction of a seminal British album, released just a year later. Pinball Wizards and all.


Until next time,

Keep on keepin' on,

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