Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

History could have been so different, the sound of the three bar blues delivered with a frantic pace and the opening slot of the televised spectacle of Live Aid would have been another band’s preserve; for in a world of what ifs and maybes the memory or discovery of what Status Quo are to many might well have been wiped clean and forgotten, the potential of the double denim rock and one of the most endearing and enduring bands lost to another plane of existence.

The release of Status Quo: The Early Years 1966-69 is one of vital importance, it reminds the listener and the fan alike of the absolute humble beginnings that the London band forged their way from, but also that the sound we have come to feel time caught in the tapping of our feet and the smile of experience as the consistency of a good time was assured at gigs from the Bournemouth BIC and the back seats of nights at the Philharmonic Hall were taken in hand, was vastly different at the beginning, a different name or two, a sound that was more in common with the primitive and experimental days of Pink Floyd that what would appear…and yet it is a sound that is illuminating, fierce, and youthfully dramatic and enticing.

The psychedelic appeal is undeniable, and the expansive box set which bares its name concentrates its entire being on the first two albums, Picturesque Matchstickable Messages from the Status Quo, and Spare Parts, and what came before, the often unheard feelings of joy that was burgeoning in The Spectres and Traffic Jam, and the fantastic delve in the BBC Sessions from 1968-69, what becomes clear is how Time can shape a sound in a way that its fluid nature is such that it is inevitable, for like The Beatles moving from the three minute single to that of the complex Progressive arrangements, Time does not stand still for your expected triumph but instead offers a glimpse of greatness by alteration.

Whether in the original mono recordings or the hugely subsequent superior stereo additions, those first forays into the studio were one of wanting to push boundaries, even in the cover of Shirley Bassey’s reading of  Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller’s I (Who Have Nothing) and perhaps the band’s most famous track of their pre-rock existence Pictures Of Matchstick Men, what comes across is the sound of a group of young men, of friends, truly embracing the freedom to be musicians and artists; a far cry from what was expected of the youth in the post war days of the late 50s and early 60s.

A smashing boxset, a discovery, a memory, given once again its prominence, its rightful place at the foundation of legends.

Ian D. Hall