Orang-Utan-Orang-Utan (1970)

Orang-Utan is another of those obscure British bands from the early 70s with a story as bizarre as it is unheard of. Originally called Hunter, this band had built a considerable reputation on the pub and gig circuit in North London in the late 60s. Their lineup consisted of Terry Clark (vocals), Mick Clarke (guitar), Sid Fairman (guitar), Paul Roberts (bass), and Jeff Seopardie (drums). With a style that straddled acid rock and heavy rock, tinged with the prevailing psychedelia of the time, following in the footsteps of leading bands like The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Led Zeppelin, and Cream, they soon attracted attention for their undeniable talent and skill. In 1970, they managed to record a self-financed album, produced by Roy Thomas Baker, a seasoned producer who would later become famous as the sound engineer for albums by Queen, Journey, and Hawkwind, among many others. Once the album was completed, and while waiting for a record deal, the original master tapes were stored in the recording studios for later official release. However, shortly afterward, the original tapes were stolen from the studios where they were stored and ended up in the hands of a man named Adrian Miller, who claimed credit for the album's production and sold the rights to Bell Records for release. Before doing so, he even changed the band's name to Orang-Utan and designed a cover that, frankly, looks like the work of an elementary school child. Shortly after, the band accidentally discovered that their album had been released without their consent and, to make matters worse, under a different name. This strange episode precipitated the group's dissolution shortly afterward, as they received no royalties from the released album and were financially driven to bankruptcy after investing all their money in its recording. This unique and unusual album was released only in the German and American markets, another misfortune for the group, as they couldn't even see it released in their home country. This fact also hampered their attempts to claim the rights to the released material. Musically, this obscure and lost album showcases the great talent of vocalist Clarke, fabulous guitar riffs, and brilliant and effective compositions, as demonstrated in the powerful "I Can See Inside Your Head", with its late-60s psychedelic flavor, the hard blues rock of "Slipping Away", the Zeppelin-esque "Chocolate Piano", the dusty, Southern-rooted "Fly Me High" and "Country Hike", and the experimental "Magic Playground".