If you like: ‘70s classic rock in the vein of the earliest efforts from Heart, Led Zeppelin, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Traffic, or Free, you’ll enjoy this record and delight in Reid’s vocals.
About: British rock singer Terry Reid could have been a lot more famous if he had been able to accept the slot of lead singer for the New Yardbirds in 1968. That slot, of course, went to Robert Plant, and The New Yardbirds became Led Zeppelin. Unlike Plant, Reid was also a guitarist, and the opportunity to head his own group no doubt played a part in his decision to gun for a solo career. Leading a guitar-organ-drums power trio, he recorded a couple of respectable, though erratic, hard rock albums while still a teenager in the late ‘60s. Some bad breaks and creative stagnation combined to virtually bring his career to a halt, and he never cashed in on the momentum of his promising start.
    A teen prodigy of sorts, Reid had turned professional at the age of 15 to join Peter Jay & the Jaywalkers. His first couple of singles as a headliner found him singing in a sort of poppy blue-eyed soul vein. But by the time of his 1968 debut Bang, Bang You’re Terry Reid, produced by Mickie Most, he’d switched to more of a hard rock approach. Most was also handling Donovan and The Jeff Beck Group at the time, and similarities to both of those acts can be heard in Terry Reid’s first two albums–proto-hard rock on the louder tunes, sweeter folk-rock on the mellow ones (Reid in fact covered a couple of Donovan compositions, although he wrote most of his own material). Reid’s high voice was reminiscent of Robert Plant’s, though not nearly as shrill, and his folky numbers especially are reminiscent of Led Zeppelin’s most acoustic early cuts.*^{via Richie Unterberger}
Why it’s worth your time: I’ve yet to listen to every rock record in the world, but I can still say, with conviction, that Terry Reid’s self-titled has to be one of the greatest rock records of all time–although that is difficult to conclude because River, Reid’s third album, gives it a run for its money, but ultimately, its earthiness is what makes this one win out. In fact, it’s painfully frustrating to see a record of such caliber stay under the radar for so damn long–and it’s easy to wonder what Led Zeppelin could’ve sounded like had Reid taken Plant’s spot. At the same time, a more selfish take arises; how it turned out seems to be something of a gift from the heavens because we have here an incomparable, flawless (yes, I hate that word, but it’s requisite here) 9-song masterpiece that only proliferates in charm and grandeur with each passing decade.
A favorite track: July