Bark at the moon

Unleashed - Leaf Hound (2007)

The core of the band Leaf Hound had already splintered before the release of their lone album in 1971, the powerful Growers Of Mushroom. Lead singer Peter French moved on to vocal duties in several other bands but was convinced some thirty-odd years later that the time was ripe for a Leaf Hound follow-up.

It had all the warning signs of a great disaster. Growers has gained such iconic cult status over the years that a protracted sequel could be seen as pointless at best, blasphemous at worst. That is further exacerbated by the fact that of the original band members, only French would be present. That the new members were all young Leaf Hound fanatics did not allay visions of some cringeworthy tribute band unwittingly making a mockery of that which they profess to love.

Somehow, though, it all worked, and then some. The youth of the new band members cultivated a hungry energy. French himself hadn't lost anything in the intervening three decades. Their resulting collaboration, Unleashed, whether authentically Leaf Hound or not, is an irresistibly rocking album in its own right.

Picking straight up on the rugged blues riffs of its much older brother, this is an album of hard lessons learned. "One Hundred And Five Degrees", (86/100), is a feverish kick-start. French sounds battle-scarred and trench-hardened while the band wastes no time laying down a major-league lick, proving it can rock with the big boys. The band plays tight and hard up and down the length of the album.

Drummer Jimmy Rowland often gets much of the credit for planting the seeds of the renovated and reinvigorated Leaf Hound. Likewise his beat on "Barricades", (87), develops the riff that is the backbone of an amazing song. For his part, French vocally invokes Hendrix.

"The Man With The Moon In Him", (92), relays a bizarre encounter with a solar aficionado, complete with prerequisite interstellar breakdown. The spacey guitar solo builds up to sonic supernova. While the first two songs are in no way lacking, the band really busts loose here and lives up to the album's title.

The slow burner, "Nickels And Dimes", (94), (http://www.mediafire.com/?5vhwnib85e79798), follows. It has an epic acoustic sound to start and plugs in after the first chorus. The guitar solo is suitably sorrowful, the tale a familiar lament over "the one thing my money was never gonna buy." Stripped back down to basic acoustics to conclude, one reverberates in the sad echo of a man in a lonely vacuum.

"Stop, Look And Listen", (86), is some friendly advice that avoids being pedantic. The breezy, melodic verses draw a listener like honey while the riff-heavy chorus still conveys the confidence that it is coming from someone who knows what he's talking about. "Overtime", (80), is a solid rocker, while being the album's shortest tune.

I first heard the next song, my favourite on this album, as a bonus track on a recent reissue of Growers. It was only after hearing "Too Many Rock 'N' Roll Times", (95), (http://www.mediafire.com/?e0m33nuq4wdclah), that much of my trepidation about the upcoming Unleashed abated. This is as smooth as a dirty riff can sound and it is as beautiful a moan to ever rise from the rubble of pretty brown eyes, wild hearts and broken nights.

The opening riff of "Deception", (89), rings faintly of Zeppelin's "Over The Hills And Far Away" (1973). It's a jangly little apology from someone who has lost by his own hand, who has flushed the best things in his life down a pit of lies. Perhaps ironically, this song feels as genuine and heartfelt as any on the record.

"Breakthrough", (92), then closes the album, a cover of a tune French originally performed on 1971's In Hearing Of, during his short stint with Atomic Rooster. This song really showcases the new Leaf Hound: the drumming is outstanding and there is an absolutely smoking guitar solo from 5:45 to 6:30. The vocals yearn for that somehow always elusive freedom and the band dedicates their effort to the song's co-writer, Atomic Rooster/Crazy World Of Arthur Brown keyboardist Vincent Crane, whose tragic life was cut short in 1989.

The re-emergence of old bands with new material definitely doesn't always work out as well as this. As if a nomad returning from a long dark journey, Unleashed has the authenticity of hard-won experience. But it is precisely in its fusion with youthful enthusiasm that the album gains its rare intensity and vitality.

Unleashed (album): 88/100.