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Randy Bachman: vocals/guitar
CF Turner: vocals/bass
Blair Thornton: guitar
Rob Bachman: drums
After leaving successful Canadian act The Guess Who, Randy Bachman formed Brave Belt around the talents of his Guess Who colleague Chad Allan, bringing his drumming brother, Robbie, in on the act. Bassist C.F. "Fred" Turner was added to the lineup, who morphed into Bachman-Turner Overdrive #1 as Allen was replaced with a third Bachman brother, Tim. The new outfit's first two albums (Bachman-Turner Overdrive and Bachman-Turner Overdrive II) sold well, largely due to the band's relentless touring, as, in retrospect, they're pretty poor. Tim was asked to leave after their second release and was replaced by Blair Thornton for BTO #2; I have no idea whether his addition led to the band stepping up to another level or whether they would've done so anyway, but their third album, Not Fragile (supposedly a quip on Yes' Fragile) could've been a completely different outfit.
From the shipping crate stuffed with cogs and gears to the dynamic live pics adorning the rear sleeve, not to mention the song titles, Not Fragile was a serious statement of intent. Other bands (Nazareth spring to mind) have executed similar sharp left-turns early in their careers, but it's uncommon for a band to go from 'dull' to 'classic' in the space of one release. Quite simply, there is not one duff track on the album; this is blue-collar North American rock par excellence, roughly comparable with prime-era Mountain, beating the ineptitude of Grand Funk and their ilk into the proverbial cocked hat. One of BTO's many strong points was their musicianship; once Thornton replaced Tim Bachman, their sound toughened up immeasurably, all four players working together as a team, both musically and vocally, Ranfy Bachman and Turner splitting the leads equally.
Not Fragile: Speaking of statements of intent... The album's title track opens with a rumbling, ominous bassline and a phased cymbal splash, before the riff kicks in. Younger listeners used to the likes of Slayer will have trouble seeing what all the fuss is about, but Not Fragile, frankly, kicks the shit out of most of the band's competitors on the heaviness front. This is music as an eighteen-wheel truck, music for lumberjacks, music as heavy industry, aided and abetted by Fred Turner's raw-as-fuck vocals. "Not fragile... over you". Killer. For all that, the track features that rarity, a dual guitar solo that echews the harmony route; two players each soloing independently, yet slotting together beautifully. A proper classic.
Rock is My Life, and This is My Song: A lighter track to follow, Bachman giving us a classic 'road song' over an acoustic verse, although the chorus riff almost matches Not Fragile for grit. Bachman adds to the band's sonic palette with a clean, jazzy solo before he ups the ante, Thornton ripping out a heavier effort over the chorus riff. Lyrically, this tells it like it is from the perspective of someone who had already spent over a decade of his life on the road. "I'm standin' in the silence, with my old guitar".
Roll on Down the Highway: The album's second eventual hit (at least in the UK), Roll On Down the Highway (written by Turner and Rob Bachman) neatly balances the band's lighter and heavier sides, a catchy chorus sitting alongside a propulsive verse; a proper 'driving song', in both senses of the phrase. Thornton's effortless solo is a classic; it's no surprise that Bachman-Turner opened with this when I saw them in 2010.
You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet: And I'm calling this album 'neglected'? Of course, You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet can still be heard on oldies radio and has even been used as a comedy trope, at least in the UK (Harry Enfield and Paul Whitehouse's 'Smashie and Nicey' old lag DJ characters, if you're unfamiliar with the reference). However, ask 99+% of listeners which album it's on and you'll be met with blank stares, while most of the rest will hazard, "Er, 'The best of BTO'?" Notorious for Bachman's stuttering vocal (intended as a one-off joke for another Bachman brother, Gary, then a stammerer), the track is yet another 'almost didn't make the cut' track that ended up as the band's (supposed) classic (other examples: Black Sabbath's Paranoid and Kings X's Over My Head, amongst others), after their manager was unable to hear a 'hit' on the then eight-song record. Bachman's jazzy rhythm work and chord sequence in the verse makes the song stand out from the pack, while the infamous fake stammer sticks like glue, making for a perfect, if somewhat unlikely combination.
Free Wheelin': An instrumental and one of Thornton's two compositional contributions, Free Wheelin' was the flip-side to You Ain't..., picking up interest in its own right. A solid, mid-paced number, Randy and Thornton harmonise over the riff, backed with Rob's unusual shuffle beat, while each member gets a brief solo spot (yes, even the drums) before a final reiteration of the riff and another memorable Thornton solo. Unexpectedly excellent.
Sledgehammer: What was I saying about monumental riffage? Sledgehammer's main riff is, at least by 1974 standards, the aural equivalent of being hit by one, although the band slip that 'light/heavy' trick in again for the verse, complete with tasteful slide guitar. Lyrically, it's about as subtle as you'd expect; "You're like a sledgehammer, baby", Turner's barbed-wire larynx giving it all it's got.
Blue Moanin': The nearest the album gets to a blues, Blue Moanin' is a sprightly boogie, which is actually better than it sounds in this case. Saying that, the chorus is a touch too honky-tonk for comfort, although Frank Trowbridge's guest slide work enlivens the proceedings somewhat.
Second Hand: Another stomping mid-paced riff opens Second Hand, while an ascending chorus guitar unison (with variations under the solo) makes the song another two-riff wonder. That's a compliment, in case you were wondering. There's not much more to it than those two parts, although the echoed "SsssssSECond hand!" that closes the track is quite startling on a first listen.
Givin' it All Away: An upbeat effort to finish the album, Givin' It All Away, glam-rock drumming an' all, is one of the album's weaker tracks, although I'd imagine it was intended to leave the listener on a high, presumably ready to flip the platter over and give it another spin. A false ending, complete with echoed "Not fragile!"s leads to a fade, although I can imagine the band stretching this out ad infinitum live.
All in all, then, a solid, riff-happy effort, BTO's best by a country mile. Despite a couple of slightly (and the only slightly) lesser efforts, you couldn't chop much off the running time of the album without seriously short-changing the buying public, so we'll let 'em off. Actually, we'll let 'em off for writing six or seven great tracks in one fell swoop, making one of the best blue-collar hard rock albums of the '70s in the process.
The following year's Four Wheel Drive is one of those albums like, say, King Crimson's In the Wake of Poseidon (actually, it's precisely nothing like it, but bear with me) that attempts to repeat a winning formula by effectively copying its successful predecessor almost song-for-song. Unfortunately, most of those songs are weaker than the ones showcased here, although it's still the band's second-best; that year's second release, Head on, is as weak as water and they never even remotely approached these heady heights again.
The band's sound went out of fashion towards the end of the decade and they seemed unable to adjust to the shallow waters of the '80s, although they were never exactly the deepest of bands in the first place. Reformations have come and gone, the most recent pairing Randy and a wizened Fred Turner, who, wondrously still has that voice. It's pretty startling, I can tell you, to hear that powerful rasp emanating from the mouth of someone who resembles, on the surface, a little old geezer. BTO/Bachman-Turner will almost certainly never record anything really worth hearing again, but they're still a decent live draw, largely due to their sensible decision to play most of Not Fragile.