Automatic Man

Band Personnel:
Bayeté: keyboards, synthesizer, vocals
Michael Shrieve: drums, percussion
Pat Thrall: guitar
Doni Harvey: bass, vocals
+ Glenn Symmonds: drums (replaced Shrieve)
+ Jerome Rimson: bass (replaced Harvey)

Formed in San Francisco around prodigious percussionist Michael Shrieve, who at age 20 set fire to the 1969 Woodstock festival with his drumming for Santana, with whom he remained for seven albums. In ’75, Shrieve hooked up with a classical- and jazz-trained pianist-composer named Todd Cochran, who had worked with jazz vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson, pianist Herbie Hancock, and saxophonist John Klemmer, and had made two low-profile solo albums for Prestige. Shrieve and Cochran – now calling himself “Bayeté” – pulled in two unknowns from the Bay Area, Pat Thrall (guitar) and Doni Harvey (bass) to form a band mixing funk-style soul with pop-philosophical space rock (or vice-versa). Think Earth Wind & Fire copulating with Utopia.

Island Records founder Chris Blackwell was impressed by the quartet’s rehearsals, signing it to a two-album deal. Automatic Man recorded its eponymous album in London at practically same time as Shrieve (an in-demand drummer) recorded an album with Steve Winwood and Stomu Yamashta in fusion supergroup Go. The lion’s share of the group’s compositions were by Bayeté, with minor help from manager-producer Lou Casabianca. Though not as illustrious as Go, the debut LP by Automatic Man is arguably more intriguing.

Shrieve’s intricate drumming is, no surprise, high in the mix (even if the vocal mix is flat). Thrall, also, lays down muscular axe flurries reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix. But the spotlight is on Bayeté. His cosmic compositions, with titles like “Atlantis Rising Theme (Turning of the Axis)” and “Interstellar Tracking Devices,” pick up where Hendrix left off with “Third Stone From the Sun” and “1983 (A Merman I Should Turn to Be).” That’s in addition to his sterling piano and synth work. There’s an opiate-dream seductiveness about the record, slightly conceptual, spacy, phantasmic, but also grounded in soul. The key is to ignore the banal lyrics and get washed along by the funky space rock, Shrieve’s complex percussion, and Bayeté’s and Harvey’s semi-stoned vocals. (And stare into the blank, doe eyes of that androgynous alien on the sleeve.)

“My Pearl” is the LP’s most accessible song and was pulled off as a single (see link below). It did moderately well on some of the cooler free-form rock stations in the fall of ’76, just breaking Billboard‘s Top 100. There was a ton of promise here…a multi-racial band of music prodigies making space rock that could fit snugly with either of the Dons: Kirshner (Rock Concert) or Cornelius (Soul Train).

But Shrieve quit the band soon after the debut album for session work with krautrocker Klaus Schulze and hard rocker Pat Travers. Then he formed another crack quartet, Novo Combo. (Their slick new wave song, “Up Periscope,” hit #43 on the charts in 1981.) Harvey followed Shrieve out. Bayeté and Thrall brought in replacements Jerome Rimson (bass) and Glenn Symmonds (drums) and made a second Automatic Man album…same generic space alien on the cover, but with a shocking-pink background. The music? Not bad, but the imaginative cosmic flourishes were abandoned due to “pressures of the industry,” and replaced by standard, disco-oriented R&B. A dismal critical and commercial reception consigned Visitors, then the group itself, to the scrap heap.

***

I thought Automatic Man would be a good chaser to my previous article on Libra, since both bands dabbled in prog and funk (an odd combination), and each managed only two albums. The difference is, while Libra greatly improved on its second outing, Automatic Man regressed (the ubiquitous “sophomore slump”). Still…on its first outing, this band proved not only that the concept of “fusion” wasn’t restricted to an amalgam of rock with jazz or classical, but that an American band was, indeed, capable of making decent progressive rock.

After Automatic Man, Todd “Bayeté” Cochran worked with Peter Gabriel and Carl Palmer and has supported a multitude of music and film endeavors. Thrall joined up with Pat Travers, Glenn Hughes (Deep Purple), and toured with Asia, among other projects. Rimson played bass with Phil Lynott and Van Morrison. Harvey and Symmonds also engaged in session work. (Harvey died in 2011.) Shrieve has played with musicians numbering in the hundreds, rejoined Santana in 2016 for one album, and today is a musical director in Seattle.

(Of note: Glenn Symmonds drummed periodically for the late Eddie Money. In 2015, Money laid off his whole band, and when he later reconstituted his band with his family (without Symmonds), the drummer filed a sordid age and medical disability discrimination suit. In 2019 it was rejected by an appellate court.)

(Thanks to Wikipedia for some of the information here.)

Single:
My Pearl / Wallpaper (1976)

Albums:
Automatic Man (1976)
Visitors (1977)

Libra

Band Personnel:
Federico D’Andrea: lead vocals, guitars, effects
Nicola Distaso: lead guitar, vocals, effects
Alessandro Centofanti: keyboards
Dino Cappa: bass, vocals
David Walter: drums, percussion
Walter Martino: drums (ex-Goblin, replaced Walter after first LP)

The tangled history of Libra revolves around Italian songwriter-guitarist-singer Federico D’Andrea. He began his tragically interrupted musical career in Rome with an unrecorded 1960s band, The Ancients, noteworthy for its singer, Manuel De Sica, son of legendary filmmaker and actor, Vittorio De Sica.

D’Andrea and The Ancients’ bassist left to form Myosotis and released two Italian-only singles. D’Andrea subsequently split to join up with members of the band Genesi (“Genesis” in English, but not that Genesis), featuring 4-octave-range, Scottish singer Alex Ligertwood, later of Brian Auger’s Oblivion ExpressJeff Beck Group, and Santana. This new assemblage (minus Ligertwood) called itself Logan Dwight.

Logan Dwight released one LP and one single, with English vocals, in 1972. While their music had patches of promise, it lacks cohesion and is marred by clunky arrangements, abrupt time changes, and weirdly placed strings and horns. D’Andrea may have recognized such, as he once again bolted, another guitarist in tow, to form Libra.

Although D’Andrea’s version of Libra existed a mere three years, 1973 to 1976, it did eke out two interesting albums. After appearing in a musical, Jacapone, Libra went to Milan to make first LP under producer Danny B. Besquet on a Sony Music subsidiary, Dischi Ricordi. This Italian issue had the ingenuous title Musica e Parole, which translates to “Music and Words.” Though Musica dispensed with the strings and horns of Logan Dwight, it still suffered schizophrenia, with awkward mix of jazz fusion, prog, and even funk. There were gorgeous, soft passages by D’Andrea, especially on “Born Today,” but these were compromised by a goodly amount of random soloing and meandering, Euro-style fusion.

L to R: Nicola Distaso, David Walter, Sandro Centofanti, Federico D’Andrea, Dino Cappa

Maybe due to the funk elements, but Besquet managed a whopping 10-album deal for Libra with, of all labels, U.S. titan Motown, which had already made incursions into rock music (and white artists) with its subsidiary Rare Earth (named after the “Get Ready” group). Whatever the reason for signing Libra, Motown released an English-language version of their debut, retitled simply Libra, with vastly improved sleeve art by Peter Lloyd, illustrator of space-themed album sleeves for likes of Rod StewartJefferson Starship, and Kansas.

In 1975 and with Motown support, Libra commenced touring U.S., opening for Frank ZappaArgent, the TubesSteppenwolfChicago, and Savoy Brown. They also squeezed in recording sessions in Los Angeles (where Motown had opened offices) and produced the much-improved Winter Day’s Nightmare: tighter arrangements than the debut, with the electric guitars more attuned to D’Andrea’s compositions. Additionally, the light prog/fusion/funk elements meld better. The standout track is the opener, “Nothing Comes, Nothing Goes (Pt. I & II),” with its mellow mellotron, pastoral sound effects, and gently philosophical lyric. The only negatives on Nightmare – if they can be called such – are some head-scratching lyrics (one song title is the classy “It’s Not Tasteful to Fly”…maybe writing in a foreign language is a good thing)…and D’Andrea’s limited Bowie-esque vocalizing. Although his high notes can be painful listening, he makes up for his voice limitations with unbounded enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, Libra had a falling out with Besquet during recording. All returned to Italy except D’Andrea, who stayed to complete his vocals, and the 10-LP Motown deal got lost in L.A. smog. Winter Day’s Nightmare was roundly ignored and hit cutout bins almost immediately.  As with D’Andrea’s previous bands, Libra left this mortal coil while practically infants.

Sadly, D’Andrea’s time was also short. In 1978, in Rome, he was fatally struck by a car. He was only 30.

***

As with Bread, Love and Dreams, I discovered this band inadvertently, and as with B, L and D, I feel they could have been much more successful had they had better management and production – even despite game-changing punk rock looming on their horizon. Unlike most punks, all the members of Libra played their instruments well. And D’Andrea definitely had songwriting talent. Musical peers such as Brian Auger and Billy Cobham certainly recognized this; Cobham is on record complimenting their dynamics, ideas, and composing, all while keeping “their Italian roots intact.”

In 1977, Centofanti, Cappa, and Martino contributed to the soundtrack of horror producer Mario Bava‘s last flick, Schock (or “Shock“), teaming with the keyboardist from Italian prog-rock band Goblin, with the resulting soundtrack album being attributed to Libra. But without D’Andrea’s involvement…well…(I haven’t heard Shock, so I can’t offer an op-ed.) The only other Italian rock band I’m familiar with are legendary proggers Premiata Forneria Marconi (PFM), the Rolling Stones of progressive rock; still cooking pasta after an incredible 55 years. So, Libra notwithstanding, perhaps not all Italian rock bands expire in infancy.

In fact…per Nicola Distaso, all members minus D’Andrea are still separately active musically.

Albums:
Musica e Parole (1975) (Italy only)
Libra (1975) (English-language re-release of above)
Winter Day’s Nightmare (1976)