Somebody suggested that we call the album 'Naugahyde Jumpsuit', which really isn't too bad. Then we thought about something like 'Revenge of the Move' - you know, one of the superlative rock 'n' roll bands of all time once more smashing into the ears and bodies of grateful listeners long after splintering into the Electric Light Orchestra and Wizzard - but somehow it sounded a little too dry and humorless, which would never do.

But 'Split Ends' is real nice, don't you think? Mainly, it feels good, is snappy and concise, and suggests the flavor of rattiness and toughness that distinguishes the Birmingham School of rock 'n' roll. It also relates directly (and cleverly) to the composition of the album. What we did, you see, was purchase 'Message From The Country', hailed near and far as one of 71's best albums, from Capitol. Then, with scissors sliding about in our sweaty hands and tears of regret dripping from our eyes, we snipped out "Ben Crawley Steel Co." (look out, Johnny Cash), "Don't Mess Me Up" (likewise Elvis), and "My Marge" (and you too, Rudy Vallee).

Our sorrow was tempered, though, by the obvious necessity of the amputation. Because we had to have room for five of the most magnificent singles ever to languish in obscurity. Nobody buys singles anymore, right? Well, now they're album cuts.

"Do Ya", "Chinatown", "Down On The Bay", and "California Man", came out on UA during the past year, and "Tonight" was the A-side of "Don't Mess Me Up" on Capitol. 'Split Ends' also includes the healthy bulk of the original 'Message From The Country', and the result is a great hybrid album that you can place proudly next to 'Shazam' and 'Looking On' (on A&M and Capitol Records respectively).

If you're reading this in your corner record store and wondering about the basic presumption of all this verbiage - that the Move is an almost ineffably supreme rock 'n' roll band - I'll tell you what to do: snap the shrink-wrap off, sneak behind the counter, quickly remove the Grateful Dead album the herbulent clerk is playing, slap on Side One Cut One and turn the volume up. Do you notice the plate glass window shattering? See the shaggy clerk swinging from the light fixture? Look at the old man diving under the classical bins and the children dancing in the street outside.

I guess the main thing about the Move is the way they can blast your head wide open and make you feel extremely, ecstatically happy all at the same time. Roy Wood, Jeff Lynne and Bev Bevan are among the chosen few who have been handed the secret key to the Magic that is rock 'n' roll, and as your body is plunged into a twitching frenzy by their musical storms, you'll also find a smile spreading inexorably across your visage. Don't fight it, because that's what it's all about. Heavy makes you very happy.

Oh yes, the Move is an unbelievably heavy, loud and powerful band. Even though the inventive arrangements, unique harmonies, nifty rhythms, the flirtations with classical elements and all the rest of it will give the musical sophisticate a lot to chew on, the Move speak first of all to us illiterate rock 'n' rollers, and it doesn't matter at all that we can't tell an oboe from a bassoon.

The Move is infinitely larger than superb technique and clever structure. It's a matter of style, you see, and they've got it down pat. The tone is set by the constant pressure of tongues against cheeks. Their humor is the kind that makes you feel funny rather than just making you laugh, and you'll find it everywhere - in the leering vocals, in the words, and in the relentless single-mindedness and intentness of their attack. Technique is worthless when it sits there asking to be admired like pretty china plates, but every raspy note the Move sling at you glows with vitality. You can feel the people behind the electricity and smell the English beer that bubbles beneath the music.

It's giddy, silly, foolish stuff, electric good-time music with a pile-driver impact. It's usually festive and exuberant, occasionally beautifully plaintive. And it's always dazzling.

DO YA: Marty Cerf in Creative Services at UA says that this one looks like a hit (he rambles on about the three points of the triangle - airplay, requests and sales). Well, it is an exquisite single, with an explosive opening riff that'll have you backed against the far wall. Rock 'n' roll thunder. The Move have cut some fine singles in their day, and it's about time one of them made it.

Amazing, the way they get from something like "I've seen lovers flying through the air hand in hand/ I've seen babies dancing in the midnight sun ... I've seen old ladies crying by their own gravesides" to that rousing chorus of "Do ya do ya want my love?" And isn't it marvelous the way they can remind you of the Kinks, Alice Cooper, Jimi Hendrix and the Who while never sounding exactly like anybody but the Move? All in four minutes and nine seconds.

It's got everything a hit single needs: It takes a long time to hear all the words, it gets a little bit shorter every time you hear it, and it sounds great over a tinny portable radio. I just put it on the turntable and a friend flew into the living room about five feet off the ground.

MESSAGE FROM THE COUNTRY: An anthem. It leans more to the group's ELO side, as do most of the original album cuts. Have Brian Wilson and the Boys ever woven a more gorgeous and complete vocal tapestry than the Move's soaring a capella "Ba-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da"'s? The message from the country rises higher.

CHINATOWN: A bit of exotica from the lads - "See the Eastern ladies walk in Chinatown". This one's more snappy than heavy, bouncing you along rather than steamrolling over you. Spiffy little Oriental riffs in here, as well as some mean woodblock from Bevan.

THE MINISTER: Shades of "Paperback Writer"! When you hear that vibrato-laden lead line you'll have no questions about why the guitar is rock 'n' roll's A-Number-One instrument, nor about the contention that Roy Wood is one of that instrument's worthiest exponents. Also give a listen to the bass.

WORDS OF AARON: Melody comes to the fore here, sweeping along over a chugging backup. Nice piano, powerful singing. Where'd that flute come from?

DOWN ON THE BAY: Good old bass, drums, and guitars sure can make a monster sound, can't they? "Down On The Bay" charges like a runaway stallion. One of the best dance numbers on the album, it gives you a chance to toss in a little rhumba toward the end. Very sexy.

CALIFORNIA MAN: And look out, Jerry Lee Lewis, make way for the King of Rock 'n' Roll. Is that Duane Eddy on twang guitar? Goin' to a party, come on meet me after school.

NO TIME: A slow sad one, to change the pace for a few minutes. Catch your breath and shed a quiet tear. This one tends to sneak up on you after a while. Did the Bee Gees server as musical consultants?

ELLA JAMES: Back into the fray. This is the only spot where 'Split Ends' follows the same sequence as 'Message From The Country'. Isn't that interesting?

IT WASN'T MY IDEA: Crunchy guitar and perhaps Roy Wood's finest moment as a rock 'n' roll oboeist challenge one of Roy's most theatrical vocals ever for Highlight of the Song award. It opened "Message From The Country" and sounds just as formidable back here at Side Two, Band Four.

UNTIL YOUR MAMA'S GONE: Sweet picking on the intro; enter a devastating, crushing arrangement and vocal.

TONIGHT: "I'll be over tonight, if you say you might". A great song, brilliant execution. This one absolutely had to close the album.

- RICHARD CROMELIN
  NOVEMBER, 1972

© 1972 United Artists Records, Inc.

Used by permission of the author

Transcribed by John DeSilva

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