MADFISH 12th September 2025
Nirvana, not Nirvana. This is the British band, formed in 1966 but even the band got confused, recording a cover of ‘Lithium’ at one point, however a lawsuit helped sort things out……
Twelve discs is definitely very complete and almost certainly too complete for 99.5% of potential listeners. Nirvana were a couple of chancers who jumped on the psychedelic bandwagon in 1966 and turned out a series of baroque pop albums beloved of crate-diggers, mostly because of their extreme rarity, due to people not hanging onto them for long. Think of the theatricality of early Scott Walker, with orchestral-type interjections, flanging, swirling sound and plenty of effects or the documentary story style of David McWilliams. The songs lean heavily into the twee, and I wonder if the extremes of idealism and flower-powered vision are an affectation or the real thing.
If you are intrigued by this lost bit of sixties music, pick any of the first three albums, though the first is a bit of a classic of its sorts, “The Story Of Simon Simopath”. It is an early example of the concept album. Not the sort of concept album that Sinatra made in the sixties, where he’d assemble a set of songs that went together; these are composed to tell a story. Though you’d probably not guess unless you read the sleeve notes.
Irishman Patrick Campbell-Lyons and Greek Alex Spyropoulos got together and created these songs though, after some success they had to assemble other musicians and pretend to be a band. Somehow they put out eight studio albums, featured here alongside alternate stereo / mono mixes of the debut and three discs of demos and outtakes. I took it on the chin and listened through the lot and there’s plenty of innocent fun in the daft early stuff and trying to figure out how it all came to be and how much tongue was in the cheek. What I did learn was that Campbell-Lyons became the entirety of the band from the fourth album onwards, retiring the name in the early Seventies, reviving it in 1985 as interest in the band stirred amongst obscurantists and a compilation was issued. A couple of new albums came out at the rate of one a decade and that’s where the tale ends.
I learnt that for the pressed for time, the set can be distilled to the first album, which will make you happy, and that can then be distilled to the joyfully grandiose yet meaningless ‘Pentecost Hotel’. It’s a silly joy and if you like it, go ahead and try the rest. There’s a ninety page hardback book that I’ve not seen but has to be one of the few in-depth looks at the band in words and pictures.
If you love the band, here’s the lot. If you’re merely curious – do give the very early stuff a go by whatever means you favour.