Album Review: The Iveys – Miniskirts and Rainbows

During their initial run, the classic lineup of Badfinger released a total of six albums. Considering the long run of misfortunes that befell the British/Welsh foursome, the latter three of those largely went unheard. So for most listeners, the group’s heyday came and went in a brief period, 1970-71. The tragic deaths of primary songwriters Pete Ham and Tom Evans would eventually scupper any thoughts – however remote – of the band returning to its former glories. Today, none of the band members who played on Badfinger’s Apple Records-era releases remain alive.

But the music that Badfinger left behind is – if you’ll pardon an adjective that draws from the title of one of their best deep cuts – timeless. Songs like “Day After Day,” “Baby Blue” and “No Matter What” maintain their power and melodic appeal a half-century after their release. And so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the music of Badfinger remains ripe for discovery (or rediscovery) by modern-day listeners.

What is a surprise, however, is the staggering amount of unreleased material that the members of the group left behind. As Badfinger and in their earlier guise as the Iveys, the core band produced seeming innumerable demos. Even more astounding is the near-uniform quality of the songs; Ham, Evans and Gibbins (and early band mates Dai Jenkins and Ron Griffiths) clearly had more solid musical ideas than outlets to use them.

And that fact explains why a fifth – yes, fifth(!) – volume in The Iveys’ Anthology series has recently appeared. Miniskirts and Rainbows (1966-1969) collects 19 previously unreleased tracks that remind listeners yet again that this band was drawing upon a seemingly inexhaustible well of creativity, even years before they were “discovered” by Apple Records.

The lion’s share of the songs on Miniskirts and Rainbows are Pete Ham tunes, with several from Evans, a handful from Mike Gibbins and even a few composed by band manager Bill Collins. Though they’re demo recordings, the recording quality and fidelity are of a reasonable, listenable quality. Sometimes the songs are cleverer than their titles suggest: “I Love You” is one such example; it’s a peppy pop rocker reminiscent of Rubber Soul-era Beatles.

Longtime Badfinger fans will recognize some of the song titles on this collection from their better-known official versions. The jaunty singalong of “Blodwyn,” the sweet “Angelique” and the beautiful “I Miss You” are all heard here in embryonic versions that show the band had many of its arrangement ideas in place years before making the official recordings.

Some twee backing vocals and questionable arrangement choices aside (Kazoos? Really?), the songs clearly point the direction toward how these tunes would have been realized in a professional recording studio. The fact is that in most cases, that never happened. So we are left with these demos and a hint of what could have been. A stylistic outlier that’s interesting in its own way, Collins’ “All the Fun of the Fair” features a Pete Ham vocal; its retro feel may remind some listeners of Paul McCartney’s forays in a similar vein (see “Your Mother Should Know,” “When I’m 64,” “Honey Pie,” etc.). The freakbeat-y deliciousness of “Girl Next Door in the Miniskirt” richly rewards listeners who make it to the very end of the disc; Ron Griffiths’ bass work alone is worth the price of admission.

The close-up, unadorned quality of the performances on Miniskirts and Rainbows strikes just the right note for a collection by this fresh-faced group, one whose promise – however unrealized – lay just ahead. Fans of Badfinger, the Iveys and/or the best pop-rock of the late sixties will find much to love upon encountering the modest and unassuming yet wonderful Miniskirts and Rainbows.