Album Chart of 1968

<1967 1969>

  • This chart features albums released in 1968 and is limited to all of the albums in my collection which have “A-list” status.
  • The Top 30 albums are profiled, and the full chart (Top 94) is summarised, in sortable table form, on the Albums released in 1968 page, which shows the full range of albums in this sites' database, including the “B-list” records.
1968-a-the-velvet-underground.jpg

WALDO JEFFERS R.I.P.

Mindless, pointless death was everywhere in 1968, from Vietnam to Martin Luther King to Waldo Jeffers. Was there any sane sanctuary? Transcendental Meditation in Rishikesh anyone?

Pictured reflecting the blackness are Lou Reed, Sterling Morrison, John Cale and Moe Tucker on the eve of the release of the second Velvet Underground LP. Once again, they shone as thee extra-ordinary leaders when it came down to artful creativity. Joining them on the outer fringes were Silver Apples with a jaw-dropping set doused in electronics, Nico with a wondrous neo-classical adventure, and The United States of America, who laid down new wave motifs for a generation yet unborn.

Messin’ and twistin’ blues templates were Captain Beefheart, Dr John and Canned Heat, whilst Van Morrison moved in a snazzier direction with “Astral Weeks”, which was class personified.

The birth of Reggae was represented on terrific LPs from Prince Buster and Desmond Dekker. “Don’t watch that, watch this” proclaimed the Prince to the World. It was a good shout.

It was a fine year for folk music; Tyrannosaurus Rex and The Incredible String Band led the alternative camp, whilst The Dubliners, Finbar and Eddie Furey and The Johnstons made it one of the best-ever years for traditional Irish music.

Within the albums, anti-war protests continued left, right and centre with “Street Fighting Man” (The Stones), “The Unknown Soldier” (The Doors), “Sky Pilot” (Eric Burdon) and “Draft Morning” (The Byrds) to name but four from this chart.

Meanwhile, the situation in Vietnam was hopeless, as the whole sorry mess rumbled on with no end in sight… perhaps a calming visit to the Maharishi wasn't such a mad idea…

The Jukebox Rebel
28-Jan-2016

TJR says:

8.87 “A classic”

Arriving at the tail end of January ’68 was the second Velvet Underground LP, recorded over the course of just 5 days in September ‘67. The brutalisation of Rock n Roll continues – and this time there ain’t no sugar sweeteners for the black caffeine. The whole scene is black; the cover, the lyrics, the humour, the shades, the clothes. The Velvet Underground’s response to the disappointing sales of their debut album was illogical; this aggressive and beastly follow-up was devoid of normal pop charm. It was “consciously anti-beauty” said John Cale. Since the debut, Lou Reed had cut loose singer Nico and manager Andy Warhol on charges of tardiness and unprofessionalism. For all the confrontational chaos of their Art Rock, he wanted the group to succeed on both artistic and commercial grounds. John Cale reaffirmed the group’s commercial intent: “There was close competition with Bob Dylan” he admitted. “He was getting into people’s heads. We thought we could do that.” The VU played the promotional game to a certain extent – but it was always a hard-sell in a musically conservative world. As regards the product, there’s never a dull moment on the six-track set. The adrenalin-fuelled starter “White Light/White Heat” carries on where “I’m Waiting For The Man” left-off, with John Cale hammering that piano like a man possessed. “Have Mercy!” exclaims Lou. It’s the closest we’ll get to source Rock n Roll truisms. “The Gift”, in super-stereo, affords the listener a range of attractive listening options: a) listen to a gruesome short story in your left speaker, b) Listen to a gruesome rock instrumental in your right speaker or c) Take in both aspects of the gruesome extravaganza at once, with your head positioned exactly in the middle of your right and left speaker. I’m so transfixed with excitement that I can barely breathe. Poor Waldo. The black humour continues on “Lady Godiva’s Operation” which describes a transvestite's botched surgical procedure. Clearly not happy with John taking a second vocal, Lou bursts in with “SWEETLY”, an interruption which seems twice as loud as John. It kills me every time. Side 1 closes with “Here She Comes Now”, a lazy jangler which echoes stylistically with “There She Goes Again” from the debut. It’s the most conventional track on the LP, and serves as the calm before the storm of side 2. “I Heard Her Call my Name” is a 4 minute freak-out which revels in a sense of controlled punk abandon. Sterling Morrison sums up the passion and tension within the group’s members: “I quit the group for a couple of days because I thought they chose the wrong mix for 'I Heard Her Call My Name', one of our best songs that was completely ruined in the studio.” Presumably this is the right mix – Sterling never quit and it sounds fantastic. This leads into one of the greatest moments in the history of Rock n Roll – the seventeen minute sonic assault that is “Sister Ray” – never has the avant-garde grooved with such intensity. “By this time, we were a touring band” John Cale explains. “And the sound we could get on stage – we wanted to get that on the record. In some performances, Moe would go up first, start a backbeat, then I would come out and put a drone on the keyboard. Sterling would start playing, then Lou would come out, maybe turn into a Southern preacher at the mike. That idea of us coming out one after the other, doing whatever we wanted, that individualism – it’s there on Sister Ray, in spades.” Literate, expressive and insanely exciting – these four were easily the World’s smartest, coolest rockers in 1968. Alas, sales were disappointing again. By September, John Cale had left the band. Don’t it always seem to be that you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone? “John has said we didn’t get to finish what we started – that is sadly true. However, as far as we got, that was monumental. I would match it with anything by anybody, anywhere, ever. No group in the world can touch what we did.” I'll stand witness for Lou anytime.

The Jukebox Rebel
27-Apr-2007


TJR says:

8.38 “Excellent”

After having been “tricked” into his first album last year, the Belfastian delved headlong into the mystic with this beguiling, dreamy, acoustic-based folksy extravaganza – closest yet to the album that he’d always wanted to make. Warner Bros assigned producer Lewis Merenstein to the project. He had a background in jazz, and his first port-of-call was veteran bassist Richard Davis – an inspired move. Davis brought in his own supporting cast – at all times throughout this LP the synergy between the players is uncanny, most notably with flutes that could charm a king snake out of a chicken farm and a double bass which, without fail, seems to find just the right supporting notes at just the right time. That these tracks were, by and large, borne of freeform sessions, is testament to the quality of the musicians on-board. This allows Van complete freedom to focus on his soulful, stream-of-consciousness lyrical delivery, the results of which are sublime on giant masterpiece tracks such as “Madame George”, “Astral Weeks” and “Cyprus Avenue”. The album is a sensory delight from start to finish.

The Jukebox Rebel
27-Nov-2015


TJR says:

8.36 “Excellent”

There’s not a single track which lets this album down – it’s a corker. The seventh proper Stones LP arrived in the last month of ’68 – they took their time with this one – and the high quality results were tangible. Now distanced from the psychedelic craze of ’67, these ten territorial pissings leave no doubt as to where this beast stands – firmly entrenched in Rock Valley, Bluesville. It’s the beginning of the end for the group’s founder Brian Jones, who was drifting in and out of sessions on account of personal problems, most especially with drug abuse. Producer Jimmy Miller commented: “When he would show up at a session – let's say he had just bought a star that day, he'd feel like playing it, so he'd look in his calendar to see if the Stones were in. Now he may have missed the previous four sessions. We'd be doing let's say, a blues thing. He'd walk in with a sitar, which was totally irrelevant to what we were doing, and want to play it. I used to try to accommodate him. I would isolate him, put him in a booth and not record him onto any track that we really needed. And the others, particularly Mick and Keith, would often say to me, 'Just tell him to piss off and get the hell out of here'.” In spite of the background, Brian plays his part on 8 of the 10 tracks, including the album’s outstanding highlight, “Street Fighting Man”, which features both his sitar and tamboura. Never ones for being overtly political, this was a real statement from the group. Anti-Vietnam sentiment was everywhere at this time: “But what can a poor boy do, 'cept sing in a rock and roll band.” Wow. It’s certainly doing something Mick. The group have rarely sounded so muscular. On “Beggars Banquet”, The Rolling Stones are at the very peak of their oft-mighty powers. To all intents and purposes this would be Brian’s last full album – it’s kinda nice to know that he was involved in such a high water mark.

The Jukebox Rebel
23-Dec-2007


TJR says:

8.22 “Excellent”

“Rock Steady Reggea” proclaims the album’s cover excitedly, promising cutting edge action within. The back sleeve further lures the potential purchaser: “This Album contains the show that rocked Nassau and Freeport – The Prince at Work: Compiled by Public Demand (1968)” Indeed we do have two generations of Jamaica’s musical development – the son of Ska (Rocksteady) and the newly born son of Rocksteady (Reggae). Ignoring the ever-bold writing credits claimed, this album is split between six originals and six covers, as far as I can tell. Best of the Buster originals is “Scorcher”, fully exploring the new reggae phenomenon with a wonderfully complex rhythm structure with mega-tough basslines, sweet horns, and Buster’s craziness – it’s deadly stuff! “Reggae child“ exclaims the Prince, seemingly fully aware of the historical significance. “Don’t watch that, watch this. It’s a SCORCHER!” The rest of Side 1 plays out with the new sound of the year, with “Hypocrites” and “Taxation” being cut from the same cloth; both are completely fantastic, the latter bemoaning progressive governmental policies which are crippling the Kingston working class. Wasn’t just the UK then, huh? There’s another major original Buster classic on side 2, with “Wine Or Grind”, which is simply a good-time rocksteady romp for the dancehall. As he has done all throughout his career, Buster looks to Black America for inspiration with versions of “Bye Bye Baby” (Chuck Willis, 1953), “Closer Together” (The Impressions, 1962) and “Going To The River” (Fats Domino, 1953). The Chuck Willis cover, which opens up side 2, is particularly excellent, featuring a heavy manners bassline with a neat line of wailing wailers on the harmonies. Elsewhere, the Prince takes the opportunity to pay tribute to the recently deceased Otis Redding, delving into the soul stars’ catalogue for a sublime reading of “Dreams To Remember” and a good rendition of “Tenderness”, featuring a most unusual acrobatic vocal from our man. Best of the covers is the title-track itself, which was co-written by the teenage Eddy Grant for The Pyramids, who were Buster’s tour band for gigs in the UK. For some reason or other (possibly a pressing plant mix-up) they had released it under the name of The Four Gees in ’67. It’s fair to say that Buster’s All Stars took ownership, but respect is due to the UK contingent for a top tune. “Rough Rider”, the album, emerges as the roughest, toughest and smartest in Prince Buster’s catalogue – and that’s no mean feat. For whatever reason, the reggae world proved to be too much of a jungle for the Prince in the years which followed, but here at the birth he produced an album which stands as a sparkling pinnacle, in a career which played a major role in shaping the sounds of Jamaican in the decades to come.

The Jukebox Rebel
18-Nov-2008


TJR says:

7.91 “Brilliant”

I love it, it was commercially successful and was critically acclaimed – now that does make a nice change. The third Doors LP, issued in July ‘68, gave them their one and only Number One in the Billboard charts, as well as their first chart placement in the UK, peaking at #16. The album opens with the current single “Hello, I Love You” which preceded the album by a month. By August, the single had assailed the heady heights of the Billboard Hot 100, giving the group their second Number 1 single, following on from last year’s “Light My Fire”. Amusingly, “Hello, I Love You” had company in the Top 5 singles chart with Jose Feliciano, who was riding high with his radio-friendly interpretation of the Doors first number one. One suspects that Jim, Robby, Ray Manzarek and John would not be too displeased with their royalty cheques in 1968. The album is consistently terrific on side 1, and peaks with the last track on the side, “The Unknown Soldier”, which had been the first single to be released from the album, peaking more modestly at #39 in the Billboard. Critical songs about the American war machine do not Number One singles make. It’s one of the most dramatic and powerful statements in the Doors catalogue; in live performances Robby Krieger would point his guitar towards Morrison like a rifle, drummer John Densmore would emulate a gunshot by producing a loud rimshot, by hitting the edge of the snare drum, and breaking the drum sticks, Manzarek would raise his hand and drop it as if to release the signal, and Morrison would fall screaming to the ground. Side 2 is also notable for starting and finishing with the strongest tracks; Robby Krieger’s wondrous flamenco guitar frames “Spanish Caravan”, with motifs rooted in “Asturias”, a classical piece by Spanish composer, Isaac Albeniz. The whole group lose themselves in a performance which is head-swirlingly brilliant, recalling the glory of Arthur Lee’s Love from last year. The menacing rocker “Five To One” is a stone-classic finale; hearing that Jim Morrison was very drunk when he turned up to record his vocal makes perfect sense of that incredible drawl. Co-incidence or not, it had recently been announced that American troops were outnumbered five to one by the Viet Congs. It’s possible there’s a bit of that in there, but it’s more likely to be a rebel rouser for the youth: “The old get old, and the young get stronger; may take a week, and it may take longer. They got the guns, but we got the numbers. Gonna win, yeah; We're takin' over. Come on!” Inebriated or straightened, this quartet can do no wrong – brilliance abounds for the third album in a row.

The Jukebox Rebel
24-Apr-2007


TJR says:

7.83 “Brilliant”

Despite being a split LP, “Ingwe idla Ngamabala” still qualifies for the “A-list” chart as there’s enough new material from one group – Izintombi Zesi Manje Manje (8 tracks) to justify the status. The LP compiles recent single sides, at least 4 of which have been identified as having been released in 1967. The rise and rise of South Africa’s electric jive scene continued for many years from the early-60s to the late 70s, and was evolving with battlegrounds left, right and centre. Rupert Bopape’s success with Mahotella Queens and Dark City Sisters at Mavuthela spurred on Hamilton Nzimande’s rival production stable, Isibaya Esikhulu. Historian Nick Lotay, as ever, offers some terrific insight: “Nzimande carefully cultivated a hugely successful roster of excellent female vocalists, instrumental players, composers and arrangers. Izintombi Zesi Manje Manje was Nzimande's first major success. The girl group, which eventually became a vehicle for the raspy crooning of lead singer Sannah Mnguni, rose so high in prominence until the popularity battle was dominated only by two groups – itself and the Mahotella Queens. Both groups were capable of attracting a staggeringly phenomenal amount of fans who clamoured to township halls, theatres and football stadiums just to see the beautiful voices in person. Izintombi Zesi Manje Manje was supported by the excellent Saul Tshabalala as their groaner and Abafana Bentuthuko, the backing band led by the highly innovative Hansford Mthembu. The sounds that these ensembles made constitute some of the most delightful, energetic and exuberant music ever put down on record. Repetitive, repeated cycles of electrifying, lilting guitar hooks; superb female harmonies that alternated between smooth blended chorus to brazen wailing; and a solo lead male assuredly bellowing his way through the tunes. Girl groups and mbaqanga music became synonymous as the style ultimately became black South Africa's own answer to the Motown sound for a period of nearly twenty years.”

The Jukebox Rebel
05-Mar-2012


TJR says:

7.67 “Brilliant”

Slappy bongo with hypnotic guitar picking and repetitive melody with some crazy vocal performances. It’s a good look dudes. Hot on the heels of the spellbinding “Debora” single, the debut LP from the idiosyncratic duo didn’t disappoint. At the time of its release in July 1968, they were: Marc Bolan (20, vocals, guitars) and Steve Peregrin Took (18, backing vocals, drums, pixiphone and percussion). Yes, he’s actually named after a hobbit. And no, despite the, admittedly funny, jokes of the day, the thing is not called a pixiephone. The fantastical lyrics, intoxicating rhythms and un-human vocalisations fascinate and entertain at every turn. Just when you think things can’t possibly get any stranger, up pops John Peel, who reads a children's story written by Bolan on the album's closing track, “Frowning Atahuallpa (My Inca Love)”, which also includes a lengthy Hare Krishna chant. Well, I never. “Mustang Ford”? “Hot Rod Mama”? I'll tell ya, in 1968, it wasn’t just the Velvet Underground twisting the Rock n Roll template out of all recognition. Right here, the acoustic Pink Floyd played a blinder.

The Jukebox Rebel
22-Dec-2007


TJR says:

7.59 “Brilliant”

New York, not for the first or last time, was at the artsy epi-centre of the musical universe in 1968 – giving the Velvet Underground a run for their money in the “blindingly brilliant, no commercial potential, ahead of their time” stakes were Silver Apples, a duo consisting of Dan Taylor (19, drums, percussion, vocals) and Simeon Coxe (30, oscillators, vocals). Together, they produced a minor masterpiece here with this discordant, minimalistic set, produced against all the odds in a studio with only the most basic of recording facilities. With an arsenal of oscillators, the experimental Coxe essentially built his own synthesizer from scratch, housing them all into one plywood base board. All of the components were disjointed, weighed approximately 10 kilograms each and required all four limbs to play, as he explains: “At the same time as I'm moving the dials with my right hand on the lead oscillator, I'm working my elbow up and down across a bank of telegraph keys so that my forearm is keying in two or three of the other oscillators that have been pre‑tuned to different notes. So that way I'm creating a little rhythm section. At the same time I have some on/off switches underneath and so I'm playing a sort of repeating, rolling bass line with my feet. On top of that, I had to sing. In the meantime, Danny's wheeling away on the drums. That was basically our act. It was almost like a one‑man band with a drummer.” This work was rejected and dissed by fellow musicians and critics, yet it was decades ahead of the lot of them in terms of adventure and spirit, and was fully realised with an end product which continues to impress generations in the 21st century. “To me, we were just limping along doing the best we could with our limitations in terms of the equipment we had and the abilities we had. I never thought of us as being ground‑breaking” commented Simeon. What a modest man. And what a truly extra-ordinary document to have left in 1968. If they never had physical evidence of the date you would never believe it.

The Jukebox Rebel
29-Dec-2007


TJR says:

7.43 “Really good”

Following the major label rejections, Bob Krasnow’s new Blue Thumb label took this on, and the murky, muddy production – Krasnow’s unauthorised attempt to produce a ‘psychedelic’ statement – doesn’t do the group any great favours. Despite this, the good captain and his motley crew still manage to shine brightly through the haze. These whitey’s just wanted to play the blues wonky – record labels just didn’t know what to do with them. Erm, shouldn’t they have rolled the tapes and let them be? All in all, for reasons stated, things are hippy-trippy on Album # 2, but “Strictly Personal” ultimately survives the abuse, emerging as the solid stepping stone between the accessibility of its predecesor, “Safe As Milk”, and the outright craziness of its follow up, “Trout Mask Replica”.

The Jukebox Rebel
15-Mar-2013


TJR says:

7.40 “Really good”

The fourth album on Major Minor Records from folk’s, never mind Ireland’s, finest ensemble. It’s packed with very fine traditionals as always, but very noticeably includes a rare own composition and a couple of contemporary covers, all of which prove to be the clear highlights of the set. “The Irish Navy” was written by Ronnie Drew and Luke Kelly (who get the credits) and set to music by John Sheahan, Barney McKenna and Ciarán Bourke. “We are a seafaring nation, Defence of our land is a right, We’d fight like the devil all morning, Provided we’re home by the night”. It’s both satirical and self-deprecating – key traits of yer Dubliner. The rousing covers of John Brendan Keane’s “Many Young Men Of Twenty” and Stan Kelly-Bootle’s “I Wish I Were Back In Liverpool” stir the heart and, no doubt, brought the house down all over, in their live sets of 1968. The trademark character warmth and strength in depth of the group remains strong and true. What a treat it is.

The Jukebox Rebel
12-Mar-2011


TJR says:

7.34 “Really good”

The sound of desolation row this may well be, but it’s a compelling, beautiful work of art nonetheless. In 1968, the nomadic chanteuse had found her way to L.A., and, from out of nowhere, had taken to writing her own poetry and had acquired a harmonium – this strange-tasting cocktail would mark her signature sound for the rest of her career. Nico’s medieval motifs, foretold in 1966 with her contribution to those VU singles, are explored and fully realised here on “The Marble Index”, the first time she has been granted the freedom of expression that she has been craving. For the first time, these are all her own compositions, albeit partly influenced by her encouraging “soul brother” Jim Morrison. She is out to make a serious artistic statement, evidenced immediately with the very title of the record, taken from Wordsworth’s “The Prelude”, a century and a half old: “with his prism and silent face / The marble index of a mind for ever / Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.” In September ’68, the very same month that John Cale was ousted from the Velvet Underground, the classically trained adventurer set to work on his next project without skipping a heartbeat, having been invited to fly out West to produce Nico’s second solo album. Here we have the ostracized Europeans together; both having been cast adrift from the Velvet Underground. As a result, “The Marble Index”, perhaps the purest bohemian sound of the 60s, dares to go where Lou Reed could not; back in time, way back, where the ghosts of Budapest and Zagreb death-waltz amongst the plague victims. John Cale comes across as a dream producer for an artist. He recognised that it was impossible, counter-productive even, to push Nico down any particular path. He rolled as long as it took for the poetry to flow, and let Nico’s beat-up, out of tune harmonium find its own unique voice. He instinctively knew just when to add the faintest touch of viola, and when to step up the aggression. They needed each other and really had to trust each other to get the end result which was achieved – Nico was still haunted by, what she perceived to be, a studio betrayal on her preceding “Chelsea Girls” LP, unrepresentative of her vision. This time around, she needn’t have worried. Talking about the final arrangements, John Cale revealed: “I was pretty much left alone for two days, and I let her in at the end. I played her it song by song, and she burst into tears. ‘Oh! It’s so beautiful!’, ‘Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ You know, this is the same stuff that people tell me, ‘Oh! It’s so suicidal!’” I feel her joy right there. “I’d be disappointed if anyone who listened to The Marble Index properly only heard the dismay” says Cale. “For me, it has a thrill about it. There is something going on that’s inexplicable. You never know what’s coming next. ‘Evening Of Light’ is thrilling, majestic in a way. It has the grandiosity of Carl Orff. The Marble Index makes more sense in terms of advancing the modern European classical tradition than it does as folk or rock music.” No-one can take it away from Nico and John – they worked great together, a wholly unique concoction, each with vital roles to play. In her personal life, Nico’s heroin use was making things difficult for herself and those around her. A great poignancy surrounds “Ari’s Song”, the song she wrote for her only son, Christian, who had recently been placed in the custody of his Dad, French actor Alain Delon. As she sets him adrift in a little basket she moans: “Sail away, sail away my little boy, let the wind fill your heart with light and joy, sail away my little boy” It’s been described as “the least comforting lullaby ever recorded” and, whilst there may some degree of humorous truth in that, Nico is as honest and true as ever. I almost get the sense that she envisaged this as a final farewell, a postcard from the future. Those who would condemn Nico as heartless would do well to pay closer attention – she was a troubled soul. A drunken altercation in which she stabbed a woman with a wine glass, led to her having to flee America for her own safety. “It was typical” says Cale of her flight into European exile. “She’d get somewhere she always thought she wanted to be and the next thing you knew she’d be somewhere else. That was Nico all over.”

The Jukebox Rebel
28-Mar-2007


TJR says:

7.32 “Really good”

“Prophets, Seers & Sages” arrived in October ’68, just 3 months after their debut LP had been released. They had much to offer, and no time to waste. Once again Marc Bolan is on vocals and guitar whilst Steve Peregrin Took takes care of bongos, African drums, kazoo, pixiphone and Chinese gong. Without a shadow of a doubt, it’s the greatest LP ever made to feature the kazoo, the pixiphone and the Chinese gong. Kicking things off, the debut single “Debora” is revisited, altered here by a reversed-tape effect, hence the new forward-reverse title of “Deboraarobed”. Clever, eh? Once again, Marc’s astonishing, trembling vocals are a pure treat; melodic, expressive and chock-full of character. You’d like to think Tyrannosaurus Rex were a breath of fresh air for the blues rockers of the day but in truth, they were underground cult heroes to hipsters and scenesters only. John Peel’s listener-ship were on-board. Obviously.

The Jukebox Rebel
22-Dec-2007


TJR says:

7.21 “Really good”

In a year chock-full of absorbing eccentrics, Dr. John more than holds his own in the higher echelons alongside Marc Bolan, Captain Beefheart and Nico. Way back in ’59, Mac Rebennack had made his first declaration with the phenomenal “Storm Warning” 7” single. Here in ’68, his would-be career nom de plume, Dr. John, was now ready to be launched. And he dared to be different – perhaps only Screamin’ Jay Hawkins can be held up as a direct forebear of these death moans and shamanic groans served on a Bayou gospel bed. The druggy, voodoo cousin of “Astral Weeks” anyone? Not everyone recognised the brilliance within these swampy blues grooves. Atlantic executive Ahmet Ertegun exclaimed: “How can we market this boogaloo crap?” Richie Unterberger’s reissue liner notes say it best: “When Dr. John's Gris-Gris hit the rock underground in 1968, it wasn't certain whether its master of ceremonies had landed from outer space, or just been dredged out of hibernation from the Louisiana swamps. The blend of druggy deep blues, incantational background vocals, exotic mandolin and banjo trills, ritualistic percussion, interjections of free jazz, and Dr. John's own seductive-yet-menacing growl was like a psychedelic voodoo ceremony invading your living room. You could be forgiven for suspecting it of having been surreptitiously recorded in some afterhours den of black magic, the perpetuators of this misdeed risking life-threatening curses for having exposed these secret soundtracks to the public at large.”

The Jukebox Rebel
26-Nov-2015


TJR says:

7.17 “Really good”

Dekker’s second Jamaican LP, issued on Beverleys LP-004. Although three of these twelve tracks repeat from last year’s UK debut, namely “Rude Boy Train”, “Sweet Music” and “Wise Man”, I have used my discretion to assign this one as Desmond’s second album proper. Desmond’s album story is reflecting the dynamic stylistic changes going on within Jamaica’s studios. The Ska beat has all but disappeared, the gradual erosion of the rocksteady beat continues, and the smooth new reggae form is born in 1968, exemplified here on “A It Mek”, “Israelites” and “Nincompoop”. It was certainly a great year for Desmond Dekker. In August, he and The Aces performed at the Jamaica Independence Festival celebrations and their “Music Like Dirt (Intensified ’68)” became the third winner of the Island’s prestigious annual song contest. The winning song takes pride of place here, on an album which is dominated by that and two other monster cuts, “Israelites” being the most obvious. “Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir, So that every mouth can be fed, Poor mi Israelites”. (Rastafarians believe that the black races are the true Children of Israel, or Israelites, as they like to call themselves.) There’s no dilution to the message of sufferation. This is Desmond Dekker’s reggae on his terms; on Jamaican terms. Released as a single in October 1968, “Israelites” slowly and surely made it all the way to no.1 in the UK hit parade in April 1969 – completely without precedent. Pucker Jamaican music was suddenly banging down mainstream barriers in conservative European territories. A quick re-recording for “A It Mek” (included here in its original form) ensured that the momentum was immediately maintained. This LP stands as quite the statement. Reggae is born and Desmond Dekker is at the front of the charge as chief envoy. Hello World, this is Jamaica calling…

The Jukebox Rebel
09-May-2011


TJR says:

7.17 “Really good”

The classic Dubliners quintet continue with their third album on Major Minor Records and whaddya know – they’re still banging on about the drink. Auld habits die hard. Luke Kelly’s rousing opener, “Dirty Old Town”, lays down the definitive version of Ewan MacColl’s tune – something which this group manage with a regular ease. The rest of the 15 track album interprets old traditionals all the way. Ronnie steps up to the mike for “The Parting Glass”, a beautiful song with a deadly combo of exquisitely picked Spanish guitar, skilfully flicked mandolin with the flute seemingly in empathy. “The Herring” is a good old sea shanty sung by Ronnie… who knew you could do so much with a fish? “The Gentlemen Soldier” serves up more of that infectious rat-a-tat in the drum, and with the album closer, “My Little Son”, Luke Kelly fairly puts soul into the folk. The album liner notes offer a neat summation: “THE DUBLINERS restore songs to the folk sources they came from and the authenticity of their music is assured by their everyday living of informal hooleys and sing-songs, drinking and courting. What they sing about is confirmed by personal experience — they never let their individuality be taken away by success. But commercial success does not mean in this case ’commercialised’, for as their recording manager, Tommy Scott, says: “These boys will NEVER need to become commercialised, in the accepted sense of the word to stay popular-they have a magic and commercialism all of their own.”“

The Jukebox Rebel
12-Mar-2011


TJR says:

7.17 “Really good”

On their third album, the Incredible String Band’s song arrangements are more complex than ever before; the exotic range of instrumentation on show is extra-ordinary. They line up: Robin Williamson (vocals, guitar, gimbri, penny whistle, percussion, pan pipe, piano, oud, mandolin, jaw harp, chahanai, water harp, harmonica); Mike Heron (vocals, sitar, Hammond organ, guitar, hammered dulcimer, harpsichord); Dolly Collins (flute organ, piano); David Snell (harp) and Licorice McKechnie (vocals, finger cymbals). The results are terrific – theirs is a worldly-wise interpretation of folk, where Celtic, African and Middle Eastern influences can easily co-exist. “A Very Cellular Song” is the outstanding piece here – demanding, but hugely rewarding. The Wiki sums up the epic suite: “The longest number on the album, the song is a 13-minute reflection on life, love, and amoebas, whose complex structure incorporates a Bahamian spiritual (‘I Bid You Goodnight’, originally recorded by the Pinder Family). Heron next sings a passage beginning ‘Who would lose and who would bruise’, whose tune is to be reprised later on in the piece. This is followed by an ode to mitosis, sung from the point of view of an amoeba, introduced by Licorice McKechnie saying the words ‘Amoebas are very small’. The last part of ‘A Very Cellular Song’, ‘May the Long Time Sun Shine’, is sometimes wrongly referred to as a Sikh hymn or an Irish blessing, but is in fact an original song written by Mike Heron. The numerous parts of the song are woven together by Heron's harpsichord sections and Williamson's instrumental passages on the gimbri and Jew's harp. Heron later said of the song, ‘All it was was a trip, and that was the music I was listening to, that and interspersed with Radio 4, bits of plays, people talking to each other, and I happened to be listening to the Pinder Family before I started.’ Writer Dan Lander described the song as Mike Heron's masterpiece. He wrote: “Weaving between styles as divergent as Bahamian funerary music, East Indian incantation and ancient Celtic mysticism, 'A Very Cellular Song' represents a high point in the band's creativity and surely influenced a host of others including Led Zeppelin, the Who and Lou Reed. Handclaps, kazoo, harpsichord and pipes intermingle and morph into each other. If this sounds like dissonance and chaos, it is. However, it holds together and in the end conveys a powerful range of human emotion through pain and joy and back again.”“

The Jukebox Rebel
26-Sep-2009


TJR says:

7.04 “Really good”

There are 9 out of 10 originals on the second Canned Heat album – albeit with a few “adaptions”. If 1967 was a big year for the group, then 1968 was simply huge, with two new albums and two massive worldwide hits. Adolfo de la Parra had replaced Frank Cook on drums late in 1967, and joined the band in the studio for this second LP, released in January of 1968. Who knew then that “Fito” (still in the hotseat in 2013) would become the band’s longest serving member? After a Texas station began playing “On The Road Again”, Liberty released the song as a single. With his knowledge of Eastern music, Al Wilson used a tambura drone to give the song a hypnotic effect and a psychedelic edge. Combined with his super-distinctive high-octave vocals, this was a stunning release – and became a Top 20 hit in the United States and Top 10 in the UK. Canned Heat were now international stars…

The Jukebox Rebel
23-Aug-2009


TJR says:

6.93 “Good”

Having been central musically to Mike Nichols ’67 film “The Graduate” (the soundtrack for which was issued in January ’68), the duo were riding the crest of a wave by the time “Bookends” was released in April – it proved to be a major breakthrough commercially. Appearing on the album were: Paul Simon (vocals, guitar), Art Garfunkel (vocals, tapes), Hal Blaine (drums, percussion), Joe Osborn (bass guitar) and Larry Knechtel (piano, keyboards). Boosting the album’s appeal were a few older singles: “A Hazy Shade of Winter”, “At the Zoo” and “Fakin’ It”, as well as the current 45 “Mrs Robinson”, early working snips of which had appeared on The Graduate soundtrack. The appeal of “Bookends” was strong and the LP rose all the way to the top of the charts at home and in the UK. “Bookends” is somewhat conceptual, with many of Simon’s lyrics focused on areas central to life’s cycle; youth, disillusionment, relationships, old age, and mortality. At this time he’s America’s answer to Ray Davies – and that’s a cool place to be in 1968.

The Jukebox Rebel
16-Dec-2007


TJR says:

6.93 “Good”

Joseph Byrd – fresh from his wonderful production on Phil Och’s “The Crucifixion” from ’67 – delivered another fine statement right here via his provocatively named group and their finely crafted, futuristic brand of psychedelia. A restless experimentalist of several years – he was, apparently, the last student of John Cage – he had stepped out of the avant-garde last year and enjoyed the experience. For his first venture into the world of “Rock n Roll” his group lined up: Joseph Byrd (electronic music, electric harpsichord, organ, calliope, piano, vocals); Dorothy Moskowitz (lead vocals); Gordon Marron (electric violin, ring modulator, vocals); Rand Forbes (electric bass); Craig Woodson (electric drums, percussion) and Ed Bogas (occasional organ, piano, calliope). Said the group leader: “We were very conscious that we were plunging into rock without any real knowledge of, or experience in, the medium. We had played Cage and Stockhausen, African and Indian music, and I thought we could simply bring all that to rock. But we knew almost nothing about the roots of rock and roll. We all improvised, of course, but in a “contemporary music” style. In retrospect, creating a rock band with no rock musicians was a bad decision on my part. Still, since I considered myself the most eclectic composer on the planet, I was confident that whatever the others couldn’t do I could write. And I had been listening to a lot of music: Country Joe and the Fish, Jefferson Airplane, the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, and the acid power trio Blue Cheer were all useful ingredients. I was certainly aware of the Beatles (probably too much so), and an early fan of the then unknown songwriter Randy Newman. Of course, I was – we all were – conversant with the drug culture, and that played a central role in our music. Things moved fast: I introduced Gordon to the ring modulator, to fatten the violin sound to a Hendrix fuzz; Rand bought an Ampeg fretless bass, and we set about electrifying drums. The aural concept I had in mind was an edgy minimalist one, without the guitar “clutter” I was hearing in many rock bands of the late 60s. I composed about a dozen songs, Dorothy co-writing lyrics. I wrote out parts for everyone, and we rehearsed for a month, made a demo, and sent it to Columbia Records.” Despite the widespread support of music critics, the album sold poorly and soon disappeared – fortunately those same critics have a great habit of keeping works alive until folks eventually come round to realising how good the creation was in the first place. Late 20th century works from Portishead and Broadcast show this to be true : – )

The Jukebox Rebel
01-Dec-2015


TJR says:

6.92 “Good”

“The Immortal Otis Redding” – who could fail to be touched by that title in 1968? The intended seventh Otis Redding album, all recorded in the final month of his life in December ’67, was issued in June 1968, allowing sales of “The Dock of the Bay” compilation to subside. I’ve always thought it a great shame that “(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay” was housed on a compilation LP instead of its natural-born home, which should have been right here. My small gripe aside, you can’t go wrong with any Otis Redding album. If his name’s on it, the contents range from good to great to classic – he was so consistently fine that he could have offered a “satisfaction guaranteed or your money back” promise with zero effect on his not inconsiderable bank balance. He deserved his success – what a great loss to the world of music.

The Jukebox Rebel
13-Jan-2010


TJR says:

6.89 “Good”

This was a very fine debut album from the London quintet who lined up: Keith West (vocals); Steve Howe (guitar); John Wood (bass); John Alder (percussion) and Mark P. Wirtz (keyboards). The recordings were some 9 months old by the time the album saw release in February ’68 – by then the psychedelic thing was becoming unfashionable. It should have been issued to co-incide with the big single, “My White Bicycle” which had been issued in May ’67. A slow-moving, uninterested record company put paid to those plans. In between the recording and release dates, Tomorrow had recorded the first ever John Peel show session on BBC Radio 1 on 21 September 1967 – at least they were loved in all the right places. The album deserved a much better hearing – it’s consistently good and boasts a bona-fide classic in “My White Bicycle”. According to drummer John 'Twink' Alder, the song was inspired by the Dutch Provos, an anarchist group in Amsterdam which instituted a community bicycle program: “they had white bicycles in Amsterdam and they used to leave them around the town. And if you were going somewhere and you needed to use a bike, you'd just take the bike and you'd go somewhere and just leave it.” Good news anarchists stories, eh? You don’t see many of them in the common press… just as well we’ve got Rock n Roll news readers to keep us right.

The Jukebox Rebel
23-Dec-2007


TJR says:

6.86 “Good”

Back in 1960, for £2 each, these child protégés were playing in O’Donoghues; they were still school kids at the time! Maybe it’s not too surprising really; Ted and Nora (Mum and Dad) were well known musicians themselves, and encouraged their sons to play music from a very early age – there was live traditional music in their house almost nightly. Fast forward 8 years; by the time of their debut album Finbar (mainly pipes) was 21 and Eddie (mainly guitar and vocals) was 22. At this stage, the restless young lads were almost like missionaries, and it’s quite well recognised that their tours as a duo went some considerable way to popularizing the pipes worldwide, their stirring performances often commanding standing ovations. This set includes an amazing array of instruments; whistles, pipes, bodhrans, guitars and whatever you’re having yourself. It includes some terrific stuff. All told, there are 6 with vocals and 8 instrumentals – and they can be equally captivating in any style. The bodhran and pipes of the “The Spanish Cloak” serves as a rip roaring instrumental start to the set. Finbar’s flute and Eddie’s acoustic guitar then lead the album with the excellent “Come By The Hills”, a song written by Scottish TV producer Gordon Smith. The words are set to the traditional Irish air “Buchal an Eire”. With the opening one-two they’ve set the bar highly, and although they cannot quite maintain this standard it’s meaty enough all the same, with much to commend it, including a fantastic traditional “The Curragh of Kildare”, and a sympathetic reading of Shay Healy’s “This Town is Not Our Own”, a song about the struggles of travellers seeking acceptance in urban communities. The boys own father was a showman and he met their mother when he was working at a Fair. These boys are true to their roots and they’re a credit to their kin…

The Jukebox Rebel
03-May-2011


TJR says:

6.71 “Good”

“If you wanna find truth in life, don’t let music pass you by” sings Burdon on the opening track “Monterey”, the group’s tribute to the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival. “Three days of understanding… even the cops groove rhythms… down in Monterey”. And so continues the fascinating musical journey of The Animals. It’s the same 5-piece line-up as per “Winds Of Change” as they get deeper into the psychedelic pop-rock vibe, even mixing bagpipes, sitars, oboes, horns and flutes into the usual mix. For the second album in a row, The Animals deliver an all-time classic, this time with “Sky Pilot”, a 7½ minute epic which sends a shiver down my spine every time – the horrors of war are belied by the upbeat nature of the tune. The band fade in mid-section to reveal the sounds of an airstrike – of shouting, gunfire, and bagpipes. Near the end of the interlude, the battle sounds fade, briefly leaving the bagpipes playing alone before the third movement begins. The bagpipe music is a covert recording of the pipers of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards playing “All The Bluebonnets Are Over The Border”, captured by Burdon while performing at a school. He received an angry letter from the UK government over his use of the recording in the song. As a wise man once sang… “keep on rocking in the free world”

The Jukebox Rebel
05-Oct-2009


TJR says:

6.70 “Good”

The Johnstons were an Irish close-harmony folk group, originally founded in the early 60s in Slane, County Meath, consisting of siblings Adrienne, Lucy and Michael Johnston. Building on home territory successes, they delivered their first proper long player (following on from a singles compilation) in May 1968. By this time they were: Adrienne Johnston (vocals), Lucy Johnston (vocals); Mick Moloney (vocals, banjo, mandolin) and Paul Brady (vocals, guitar, fiddle, mandolin). Although they were as comfortable with traditional or contemporary material, an LP of traditionals was decided upon for this release. The liner notes offer some good insight: “Ireland is a country of miracles and one of the 20th century miracles that exists in Ireland today is that folk music is chart music. A large proportion of the singles that make the top 10 charts in Ireland are folk ballads. The Johnstons’ first ever record was a ballad, “The Travelling People” by Ewan MacColl which went straight to Number 1 in the Irish charts and was one of the best-selling singles in Irish record history. Since then The Johnstons have had three more hits and here now is their first LP. As with their previous recordings, they have remained faithful to the Irish ballads that brought them success. In three years they have become a highly polished professional and versatile group, full of vocal strength, instrumental virtuosity and interesting original harmony. They have a freshness and vitality that is rare, the more so when it is combined with an obvious strong commercial appeal. With these qualities, The Johnstons can claim comparison with the best folk groups in the world and seem sure to go on to international success. But they will do so because they have built on strong and splendid foundations — a great love and understanding of the best in Irish music.” For all the material is good throughout, the album is dominated by the utterly phenomenal rendition of “The Lambs on the Green Hills”, led intensely by Adrienne. The liner notes tell us that it comes from Colm O'Lochlainns first collection of Irish songs and is related closely to the Scottish “I Once Loved A Lass” and countless other variants of the most familiar theme in folk music; the story of unrequited love. The performance from all is spine tingling – perfectly poised, with an intimate delicacy which could bring even the severest of brutes to tears. It’s surely one of the greatest moments in the entire history of recorded folk music. With this release, Transatlantic helped to serve a wee gem to the world.

The Jukebox Rebel
26-Jul-2010


TJR says:

6.63 “Good”

After 12 years, “1968 Esquivel!!” is last in line of his original RCA albums. Groovy bachelors living in space-age London pads would need to pay the import duty on this one – it was either that or pick a copy up whilst enjoying holiday cocktails in Cancun. All tunes were new to the maestro’s LP catalogue thus far, bar “Speak Low”, which gets a reworking from its appearance on 1958’s “Other Worlds” LP. “1968 Esquivel!!” is what I imagine a typical Esquivel LP to be – it has eccentric orchestration with touches galore, basking in the stereophonic, hi-fidelity revolution. Kettle drums and steel guitars get tightened and slackened for added effect. The slinky orchestra-pop set is peppered with latin and jazz grooves, is laced with humour, has occasional wolf whistles, lots of wordless vocals using the timeless “zu-zu-zu-zu” lyric, exclamations of “Wowww”, “Groo-veee” and random phrases like “Baby, you really blow my mind”. Kitsch charm with sonic invention, that’s the Esquivel sound. He makes me happy. :-) See?

The Jukebox Rebel
03-May-2012


TJR says:

6.57 “Good”

In the summer of ’68, South American hipsters in the know were groovin’ to Os Mutantes (The Mutants), an adventurous trio est. 1966 in São Paulo. They absorbed the sound of the world and fed it back via Brazilian sensibilities. How much better things would be if there were more like them around the globe. The core three wrote all of the songs and were: Rita Lee (vocals, recorder, autoharp, percussion); Sérgio Dias (vocals, guitars) and Arnaldo Baptista (vocals, keyboards, bass). They were brave to be doing what they were doing – the right wing regime were out to clamp down on long- haired good-time Pedros, and members of their circle were forced to flee the country in ‘68. Like all good artistic statements, they simply had to bide their time until word got out; nearly 50 years on folks are still turning on and tuning in to this snazzy freak out.

The Jukebox Rebel
27-Nov-2015


TJR says:

6.56 “Good”

The last of the three albums to be billed to the Jimi Hendrix Experience was a good ‘un, although it’s not without dull patches across the 75 minute, 4-sided affair – despite all of the famously celebrated sonic trickery in the studio. Side 1 starts slowly, verging on naff with “…And The Gods Made Love” followed by “Have You Ever Been (To Electric Ladyland)”. Proto Barry White already? Do me a favour Jimi. As if I’ve got his ear, he responds magnificently with “Crosstown Traffic” – we’re back in business with some of that lip snarlin’ heavy rhythm ACTION. There are only two covers on the album – the difference in quality between them sums up why the album fails to register as a classic to my ears. The first is “Come On (Let The Good Times Roll)”, originally done by Earl King in 1960, which simply bores, as Jimi runs up and down the fret accompanied by a bog-standard 12 bar blues backing band. I’ve heard worse, to be fair, but I’m bored all the same. Side 2 is saved by the inclusion of the extra-ordinary single of late ’67, “Burning Of The Midnight Lamp”, which finds Jimi at his creative best, packing psychedelia, soul and rock into one powerful punch. The addition of the Sweet Inspirations on backing vocals works a treat at this point on the album, simply nicing up the place. The album’s rating suffers on Side 3; “Rainy Day, Dream Away” is a practice session throwaway blues; “1983… (A Merman I Should Turn To Be)” is the obligatory prog-jam – quite good as it goes for these things but never a thriller for me; and “Moon, Turn The Tides…Gently Gently Away” is just a soothing come-down 60-seconds sound effect – a guaranteed ratings loser. Side 4 has, by far, the strongest songs. “Still Raining, Still Dreaming” is a blues rocker, heavy on a groovy organ, with some superb guitar action. “House Burning Down” serves up a Rock Tango – I wasn’t expecting THAT. “All Along The Watchtower”, the album’s second cover, takes ownership of Dylan’s song, as acknowledged by the writer himself. Said Jimi: “All those people who don't like Bob Dylan's songs should read his lyrics. They are filled with the joys and sadness of life. I am as Dylan, none of us can sing normally. Sometimes, I play Dylan's songs and they are so much like me that it seems to me that I wrote them.” Surprisingly, this was Hendrix's only Top 40 hit in the US. At least they got that right. “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” finishes off the double album set splendidly, with funky wah-wah chops to die for. Thumbs up from a non-Rock head.

The Jukebox Rebel
17-Jul-2007


TJR says:

6.56 “Good”

1968 was a big year for Cash, both as a man and an artist. It started in January with “From Sea To Shining Sea”, once again flirting between the folk and the country, often reverting back to the spoken word piece – which always seems that bit more enjoyable to me. “Cisco Clifton’s Filling Station” is a classic, “The Masterpiece” is enjoyable (as God songs go) and “The Flint Arrowhead” completely recalls the glorious “Bitter Tears” album. For the first time, all songs were straight from the pen of Cash himself. Those royalty cheques could be handy, what with wives and babies to support… A month after the release of this album Johnny proposed onstage to June at a concert at the London Gardens in London, Ontario on February 22, 1968; the couple married a week later (on March 1st) in Franklin, Kentucky. June had agreed to marry Cash after he had “cleaned up”… it was the best move of his life.

The Jukebox Rebel
16-Jun-2007


TJR says:

6.48 “Decent enough”

Clocking in at an unsexy NINETY FOUR minutes, the tenth Beatles LP could do with being severely trimmed. The first and last sides are strongest, the flabbiness is in the middle. My own svelte 10 track, 35 minutes edit registers an “8.15” – Revolution 1 / The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill / Dear Prudence / Happiness Is A Warm Gun / Helter Skelter / Back In The U.S.S.R. / Blackbird / Don’t Pass Me By / Birthday / Good Night. This would be worthy of being classed up there with the career-high, “Revolver”. I mean, why have a gristly lamb chop when you’ve got prime beef fillet in the fridge? I’d avoid the weeping tiger steaks mind. A man's got to have some principles.

The Jukebox Rebel
15-Dec-2005


TJR says:

6.47 “Decent enough”

Somewhat unexpectedly, a third fine album statement arrived from Them in January ‘68. With Van Morrison having quit back in the autumn of ’66, the 4 members at that time decided to carry on against the odds, and recruited a new lead vocalist, Ken McDowell, previously a member of Belfast group The Mad Lads, who had recorded a number of singles for Decca Records, as well as a lone release “I Went Out With My Baby” as Moses K. & The Prophets. In December of ’66 they wrote to known supporter Carol Deck, the Californian editor of Flip Magazine, asking for help, and she introduced them to Texan producer Ray Ruff, who had his own indie label, Ruff Records. They still had a lot of support in the States; having played their part in the “British Invasion” their name still carried weight. Ray put the money up, sent flight tickets over, and Them were back in business. The five on the latest adventure are: Ken McDowell (23, vocals); Jim Armstrong (23, guitar); Dave Harvey (24, drums); Ray Elliott (28, sax, organ, flute) and Alan Henderson (23, bass). First recorded fruits were out as singles, all of which are included on “Now and Them”. In August ’67 there was “Dirty Old Man (At The Age Of Sixteen)” with the immortal line: “I’ve got my bag of candy and I’m going out to trade”. You really shouldn’t laugh, but LOL! It’s alright as a pop song, but I’m not convinced it was the best choice to make as an opening statement. Better was the flip side, “Square Room”, a direct descendant of The Doors’ “The End”, which was more fully realised when it was afforded 10 minutes of extended groove time here on the LP version. This would serve them well in L.A. It was a group composition, as was the album’s highlight track, “Walking In The Queens Garden”, which was released as a single in Nov ’67. More than any other song here, the performance has great Rock n Roll tension, some wild and exciting playing, a tough beat and a strong vocal. Its b-side “I Happen To Love You”, a cover of The Myddle Class single of ’66, wasn’t too shabby either; well driven with some sharp horns. On this evidence, they were clearly more than just Van’s group…

The Jukebox Rebel
18-May-2008

chart first published 28 Jan 2016; last edited 28 Jan 2016

Album Charts

by year…

1939 1940 1941 1942 1943 1944 1945 1946 1947 1948 1949 1950 1951 1952 1953 1954 1955 1956 1957 1958 1959 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 1965 1966 1967 1968 1969 1970 1971 1972 1973 1974 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1986 1987 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016