Smoke

The Smoke embodied the rhythmic pulse of Swinging London more completely than any other ensemble, a circumstance rendered ironic by the fact that their strongest sales at the zenith of popularity occurred throughout Europe rather than England. Their music occupied a middle ground between mod and the Beatles, combining a somewhat Who/Small Faces-style instrumental drive with buoyant singing, memorable vocal blends, and tuneful hooks. Modestly received in Britain and entirely unnoticed in the United States, the group achieved its greatest recognition in Germany, an unexpected development for an act so rooted in British sensibilities. Formed in York, the band began when bassist Zeke Lund and lead guitarist Mal Luker performed together in Tony Adams & the Viceroys, whose membership eventually expanded to include drummer Geoff Gill. Although locally successful with a loyal following and a straightforward rock & roll approach grounded in early-’60s material, Lund, Luker, and Gill sensed the shifting musical landscape marked by the emergence of Merseybeat alongside the London-centered blues, R&B, and soul sounds. They therefore chose to pursue a more ambitious repertoire on their own. Late in 1964 they joined forces with singer Mick Rowley and rhythm guitarist Phil Peacock, both formerly of the Moonshots. The new lineup, known as the Shots, delivered a tough strain of R&B akin to the Small Faces’ work and secured representation from London agents Jack Segal and Alan Brush, who supplied rehearsal funds and equipment before arranging a deal with independent producer and publisher Monty Babson. Babson recorded four tracks with the group, two of which appeared as a single licensed to EMI-Columbia. Around this time setbacks mounted: Phil Peacock departed, uncomfortable with the increasingly intricate textures the others wished to explore, and financial support vanished. The remaining members resolved to continue as a quartet, a single-guitar setup that yielded a sharper sonic edge, and began seeking fresh management. This led to an unusual arrangement when identical London entrepreneurs Ron and Reg Kray offered apparent salvation. Now remembered internationally as notorious gangsters and depicted in works such as Profession of Violence, Reg’s autobiography Born Fighter, the film The Krays, and a Monty Python sketch titled “The Piranha Brothers,” the brothers ranked among London’s leading crime figures. Among their ventures they held stakes in several clubs and briefly considered deeper involvement in entertainment as a potential revenue source, much as American gangster and club owner Morris Levy had earlier entered the record and publishing fields by founding Roulette Records. They signed the Shots and assumed managerial duties yet proved unable to secure bookings, their expertise lying more in extracting protection payments from venues than in arranging performances. The band ultimately terminated the contract, prompting an injunction that prohibited them from appearing live. Fortunately, their publishing and recording agreement with Babson remained intact, granting continued studio access. Barred from concerts, the Shots enjoyed more uninterrupted time for composition and recording than any active British group of the era, even surpassing the Beatles, who were still touring. During this interval they adopted the name the Smoke, the earlier Shots moniker having lost any connection to the long-forgotten Moonshots. One composition from these sessions was “My Friend Jack,” a mod-inflected psychedelic piece written by Rowley and Gill. Driven by a marching rhythm and layered shimmering yet abrasive reverb-heavy guitar, the track stood out as an infectious, boldly hallucinatory creation that, in an American context, might have been labeled psychedelic punk; it now registers as quintessential freakbeat suspended between the Who’s power-chord-driven teen anthems and the whimsical psychedelia of the Beatles’ “Dr. Robert.” Its drug allusions proved potent enough to require lyric revisions before EMI would release it. Issued in February 1967, when “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields Forever” represented the label’s outer limits of ambition, the single reached only number 45 before BBC prohibition restricted its British chart run to three weeks. Across Europe, however, the record climbed rapidly. The group also gained exposure on a German Beat Club television broadcast shared with Jimi Hendrix, the Who, and Cliff Bennett & the Rebel Rousers. “My Friend Jack” ascended to the summit of the German pop charts and secured the Smoke a package tour alongside the Small Faces and the Beach Boys. Stardom had arrived, albeit in an unanticipated locale. The single also registered strongly in Switzerland, France, and Austria, generating demand for a Smoke album in Germany. The resulting LP, It’s Smoke Time, assembled the strongest of the tracks Babson had captured throughout 1966. The band relocated to Germany yet continued issuing records in England; their contract transferred to Chris Blackwell late in 1967, who thereafter assumed management responsibilities once their Kray obligations had lapsed amid the brothers’ gang conflicts and legal proceedings. During this phase they produced notable psychedelic material and encountered Traffic members in the studio. Exhaustion after five years, coupled with the sense that they had already savored the principal rewards of their brief fame, brought matters to a close. They declined Blackwell’s request to return to England for further recording, effectively concluding their history as a classic British beat and freakbeat unit. Mick Rowley stayed in Germany, where his role as frontman ensured a ready audience. Luker, Gill, and Lund eventually returned home and joined Babson’s Morgan Studios staff, contributing to various projects including Blue Mink, Orange Bicycle, and Fickle Pickle. A later incarnation of the Smoke, centered chiefly on Zeke Lund, resurfaced in a pronounced 1970s style early in the following decade without notable impact. Meanwhile “My Friend Jack” endured in collectors’ memories for its buoyant psychedelic-punk character, while It’s Smoke Time, long an obscurity beyond Germany, acquired a reputation as one of the most exuberant albums ever recorded. Mid-1990s CD reissues of both the single and the LP appeared, and in 2002 a double-CD anthology encompassing the complete output of the 1960s and 1970s lineups became available.