Badfinger 8: Head First

Way back in 1974, they had just completed their excellent Wish You Were Here album, but Badfinger was so burnt out that Pete Ham tried to quit. Threatened with further financial ruin, he was persuaded to stay on for the promotional tour, for which they’d already recruited one Bob Jackson to fill in on keyboards and guitar. Their contract required them to put out yet another album post-haste, so they went back to Apple Studios with Kiss producers Kenny Kerner and Richie Wise, but without Joey Molland, who wasn’t considered as important as Pete to the powers that be to keep him from quitting. They were given exactly two weeks to record the basic tracks.

What was soon dubbed Head First by Tom Evans (as that’s how he saw the band going into the proverbial lion’s mouth) was given a few perfunctory mixes to please the label. But as litigation had already started against the band due to their manager’s criminal activity, the album was effectively dead in the water. To make matters worse, Wish You Were Here was pulled from shelves until everything could be sorted. Mere months later, Pete was dead.

The first mixed sequence of the album shows potential, if well short of genius. “Lay Me Down” is an obvious attempt to write a catchy hit single with a hook, which Pete could easily do, and which he’d done better. Jackson’s “Turn Around” is even heavier rock than Joey used to play, but his lead vocal just doesn’t sound right in this band. Pete comes back strong with “Keep Believing”, one of those pep talks that could also apply to himself, even as it resembles “Apple Of My Eye”. Mike Gibbins stays in a backwoods mode with “Rockin’ Machine”, a very brief statement at just under 90 seconds, then Tom Evans comes in brooding with “Passed Fast”, a bleak slab of rock written and sung with Jackson.

“Saville Row” is an unfinished instrumental, heavy on the type of electronic keyboards that Pete was not known for using, and fades after about a minute. It does work as a prelude to “Moonshine”, a pleasant collaboration between Tom, Mike, and Jackson, with nice layered harmonies and sweet lead guitar. Tom’s real feelings are made clear in the bitter “Rock ‘N’ Roll Contract” and “Hey Mr. Manager”; in between, Mike’s “Back Again” nicely balances acoustic strumming with synth string touches.

Besides being short, Head First is not a happy album; the pressure of having to create material at such a rate had clearly taken its toll, and there’s no way to know whether it would have made any impact on any charts. So there it sat, until four of the songs (Pete’s two gems, plus “Moonshine” and “Passed Fast”) were included on Rhino’s The Best Of Badfinger Volume II some 15 years after the fact.

Once things got more straightened out at the end of the century, Badfinger biographer and champion Dan Matovina was able to arrange the first full release of the album. As the master tapes were missing, one of the rough mixes was used, but despite opening with “Lay Me Down”, the rest of the songs were shuffled for “listenability” purposes. “Saville Row” still led into “Moonshine”, but was cut down to 36 seconds for no stated reason, and ending the album with “Rockin’ Machine” makes it seem like an afterthought. To draw people in, a bonus, even shorter disc contained acoustic demos of unreleased songs, mostly with somber lyrical content: six from Pete (including “Lay Me Down”), three from Mike, and one each from Jackson and Tom.

The original multitracks were finally discovered in time for the album’s 50th anniversary, or at least the anniversary of its recording, so Bob Jackson was able to get it back in circulation again. This freshly mixed version had no extras, but rejigged the order (past “Lay Me Down”) yet again, moving an artificially extended and retitled “Savile Row (2024)” to the end of the program.

As an epilogue to the whole sad saga, Head First is a letdown. But we always like hearing Pete Ham’s music, so it’s good to have. Meanwhile, several CDs worth of his demos are streaming officially, so that will also help keep his memory alive.

Badfinger Head First (2000)—3
2025 50th Anniversary Special Edition: “same” as 2000, minus 11 extra tracks

Badfinger 7: After Pete

The tragedy of Badfinger has been only slightly redeemed by the recognition that has multiplied in the years since Pete Ham’s suicide. For most of the ‘70s and ‘80s, one could still hear at least “No Matter What” and “Come And Get It” on the right radio stations, and even AM radio continued to embrace Nilsson’s version of “Without You”. But thanks to the “businessman” who arguably sent Pete to his early grave, the people responsible for creating that music saw barely a penny for their talent. The surviving members attempted to carry on in a variety of combinations; Joey Molland and Tom Evans even put out a couple of albums under the Badfinger moniker, but even they couldn’t get along. In 1983, apparently never having gotten over what happened to Pete, Tommy also chose suicide via hanging.

From time to time an act called Badfinger could be found playing a state fair or amusement park; most likely the only original member was Joey (oddly, the last to join the band and first to walk). The Apple catalog remained in legal limbo, but the Warner Bros. material was mined in the CD reissue era. The UK-only Shine On offered eight songs from Badfinger and four from Wish You Were Here, while in the US, Rhino Records went even deeper on the hopefully titled (for 1990) The Best Of Badfinger Volume II, with a different yet more balanced sampling from the two Warner albums, bolstered by four unreleased tracks from Head First and two songs from one of the Joey-and-Tommy albums. (Joey also spearheaded the audio sweetening and release of Day After Day, a vintage 1974 concert, on Rykodisc.)

Once EMI and Apple settled their litigation, Badfinger’s albums were finally made available on CD, along with the requisite bonus material. Meanwhile, an enterprising engineer named Dan Matovina wrote a book about the band, and ingratiated himself so much to the surviving members and estates to include CDs of demos and whatnot with each printing. Rykodisc got into the act with two CDs of Pete Ham demos, shepherded by Matovina, but including dubious (again) overdubs by original Ivey Ron Griffiths and latter-day Badfinger keyboardist Bob Jackson in an attempt to be contemporary yet “authentic”. (Of the two, 7 Park Avenue is more listenable, though Golders Green boasts sketches of songs people would recognize.)

Motavina was also responsible for the first official release in 2000 of Head First, which presented the band’s final recordings with Pete but without Joey. VH-1’s Behind The Music special appeared the same year, along with a new compilation. The Very Best Of Badfinger gets points for including tracks from the two Warner Bros. albums, but at the expense of some of the better songs on the positively solid 1995 compilation simply titled The Best Of Badfinger.

The Apple albums were made available again with the digital relaunch of the catalog in 2010, and the two Warner titles followed some time later. Then the finale of the TV show Breaking Bad used “Baby Blue”, which spurred yet another compilation. Timeless… The Musical Legacy shuffled the familiar Apple songs once again, with a few substitutions, adding only “Dennis” from the Warner albums and one of Joey’s songs from a post-Pete album. For years, only Joey was left to reap any rewards due the band; yet the fact that these albums are in circulation is triumph enough.

Badfinger The Best Of Badfinger Volume II (1990)—3½
Badfinger The Best Of Badfinger (1995)—5
Badfinger The Very Best Of Badfinger (2000)—4
Badfinger Timeless… The Musical Legacy (2013)—3½

Badfinger 6: Wish You Were Here

For any other band, the prospect of creating three full-length albums to be released within a twelve-month period would be daunting, if not impossible, but most bands weren’t Badfinger. What’s even more amazing is that not only did they accomplish this Sisyphean feat, but they got better with each new LP.

Wish You Were Here is the peak of a busy period, an album where all cylinders were firing at maximum. It delivers on the power-pop promise of No Dice and Straight Up, without getting too sentimental, and letting Joey Molland shred on lead throughout.

“Just A Chance” is classic Pete Ham, and “Your So Fine” (just one example of their grammatical anarchy) is a catchy Mike Gibbins song sung by Joey, with excellent harmonies. Joey’s concerns with the future of the band drive “Got To Get Out Of Here”. But the one-two punch of shimmering gem “Know One Knows” and the multi-layered “Dennis”—the closest thing to an emotional piano ballad here, sung to a mischievous child—proves that Pete Ham was the living amalgam of Lennon and McCartney. (The final minute-and-a-half is exhilarating, in the way the bass walks over the piano, and subtly mixed harmonies support the lead vocal.)

The band’s skill at combining ideas frames the second side of the album, with a pair of “medleys” unfairly compared to those on Abbey Road. True, “In The Meantime/Some Other Time” does fade in on a discordant orchestra, but soon develops into a driving minor-key rocker. (Credit producer Chris Thomas for the fantastic sound throughout the album.) “Love Time” is a little on the wimpy side for Joey, but at least it’s heartfelt. Tom Evans’ only songwriting contribution is “King Of The Load (T)”, which sounds like another song we can’t place, is firmly entrenched in the ‘70s by the electric piano, and doesn’t explain what the letter T is for, unless that’s the first initial of the roadie in question. “Meanwhile Back At The Ranch/Should I Smoke” is constructed as a grand finale, with frustrations over the state of the band still managing to convey a sense of triumph over adversity.

So as great as it is, how has this album managed to be so overlooked all these years? Well, not only was it released a full eight months before the Pink Floyd album of the same name, Wish You Were Here was also pulled from distribution before said Floyd album came out. The wheeling and dealing that had brought the band to Warner Bros. caught up with their crooked management, leaving the boys in the middle with the most to lose. They were already rushed back into the studio to record yet another album, to be titled Head First. And that April, at the magical age of 27, Pete Ham took his own life.

The prospect of an expanded edition of Wish You Were Here in 2018 faded a little once the bonuses were revealed to be an unreleased version of Tommy’s “Queen Of Darkness” followed by “alternate” mixes of eight of the nine album tracks. Most of these exposed horn parts and orchestral flourishes left out of the final product, which only underscore how solid the album was in the first place.

Badfinger Wish You Were Here (1974)—4
2018 expanded edition: same as 1974, plus 9 extra tracks

Badfinger 5: Badfinger

Having said goodbye to Apple, the label that introduced them to the world at large, Badfinger found themselves shackled to a punishing recording schedule on a new label. While they were eager to do whatever it took to “make it”, they were in the position of having to come up with a brand new album mere months after completing Ass.

Given this background, it’s surprising that Badfinger is as good as it is. It’s evenly balanced between the three main singers, all of whom contribute superior, tuneful tracks. Pete Ham is back in his element, and his songs here are as good as any in his arsenal. “I Miss You” borders on the too sweet, but “Shine On” evokes a Wellie-shod ride through the green hills of the UK. Joey Molland’s “Love Is Easy” fulfills the boogie quotient, and he’s supposedly the subject of “Song For A Lost Friend”, a title that can’t help but be suggestive. A minute of audio-verité bridges “Why Don’t We Talk?”, and the first side closes with “Island”, a toughly played love song from Joey.

Maybe it was because they were trying for a fresh start, but there’s something completely alien about “Matted Spam”, from the title to the prominent horn section. Tom Evans continues his questioning in “Where Do We Go From Here?”, and with Mike Gibbins’ excellent “My Heart Goes Out”, it’s obvious that the band was obsessed with the uncertainty in their lives, and justifiably so. But leave it to Pete to take that knotted brow and turn it into something as genuinely loving as “Lonely You”. Joey’s frustration closes the album, first with the slow-burning “Give It Up”, then with the frenetic snapshot of “Andy Norris”.

As good as Badfinger is, it wasn’t going to change their fortunes any. Which is too bad, since it was a decent album. Its limited availability over the years was certainly a hindrance, and even CD versions have been rare, but it became available as a legal download in time from the usual sources, and finally got an expansion in 2018. Outside of an unreleased Tom Evans song, the additions are rough mixes of album tracks with mostly mild differences, but at least it’s easier to find.

Badfinger Badfinger (1974)—3½
2018 expanded edition: same as 1974, plus 10 extra tracks

Badfinger 4: Ass

Outside of the former Beatles (and Yoko Ono), Badfinger stayed on Apple Records longer than anyone else. Their loyalty even extended to recording at the Apple Studio in the basement of 3 Savile Row, something only George bothered to do in the ‘70s.

Of the band, Pete Ham was always the most loyal, and he wears his emotion on the sleeve of “Apple Of My Eye”, the sweetly sad farewell that opens Ass and would be the last non-Beatle single on the label. It’s a promising start to an ultimately disjointed album, pulled together from several sessions and one where Joey Molland dominates. The most rockin’ member of the group, his contributions lean toward heavier sounds and plenty of lead guitars, right out front on “Constitution”. “Get Away” and “The Winner” are rather pedestrian boogie numbers with lazy lyrics, but “Icicles” stands out with its infectious melody and anachronistic backwards guitar. Oddly, “I Can Love You” sounds more like the type of song Pete Ham would write; Pete’s only other contribution is the moody “Timeless”, which builds slowly from a piano piece to a grand finale along the lines of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”.

Tom Evans is equally quiet on the album, but his two contributions are gems. “Blind Owl” is a toe-tapping rocker made for the stage, while “When I Say” is as sweet as any of his love songs. Mike Gibbins contributed his first song in a while, but any chance “Cowboy” had is sunk by the annoying wobble-board sound effect in the front of the mix, and the square-dance asides in the break.

Led away by the giant carrot on the cover, Badfinger would resurface soon enough. But that’s another chapter in their sad story. Ass is merely adequate, overlooked upon release and usually only mentioned in passing. It only got limited release on CD in the ‘90s, with only one bonus track (Joey’s “Do You Mind”) but thorough liner notes. The 2010 reissue included more outtakes, plus others made available for download only, consisting mostly of alternate versions of album tracks (and, strangely, “I Don’t Mind”) plus Joey’s heavy-Scouse “Regular” and Pete’s odd blues parody “Piano Red”.

Badfinger Ass (1973)—3
1996 CD reissue: same as 1973, plus 1 extra track
2010 CD reissue: same as 1973, plus 5 extra tracks

Badfinger 3: Straight Up

Perhaps it’s because he didn’t live long enough for people to say otherwise, but the general consensus is that Pete Ham was a pretty nice guy. Maybe too nice, since history has shown that you’ve pretty much gotta be something of a prick to make it in the music business.

His image has always been that of an extremely talented man who loved making music, and loyal to a fault. These qualities are best exhibited by the opening track on Straight Up, “Take It All”. The song came about after the Concert for Bangla Desh; Badfinger was part of the onstage band, strumming along on acoustics and percussion. Then, when George Harrison stepped forward to play “Here Comes The Sun”, he asked Pete to play the song alongside him. Apparently Tom and Joey (incidentally, both Liverpudlians) were extremely jealous that Pete got his own moment in the spotlight, and gave him crap for it. Pete’s response was “Take It All”, an absolutely gracious statement, free of ego. It’s a wonderful song, and just another moment that makes his story so heartbreaking.

It’s also a great opener for a fantastic album. Straight Up had a difficult birth, starting with a pile of scrapped sessions, continuing with George Harrison as producer. When the Concert for Bangla Desh took up his time, the album was completed with Todd Rundgren. There’s not a clunker in the set. It goes right from “Take It All” to the power pop classic “Baby Blue” and its wonderful interlocking guitars. A mini-suite of “Money” and “Flying” displays their talent for piecing together fragments into a cohesive production. “I’d Die Babe” is sneakily Beatlesque, and the majestic “Name Of The Game” gets a big sound out of only a few instruments, with Pete’s simple piano solo buried in the mix before the fade.

Joey dominates the credits on side two with three excellent songs, depicting life on the road in “Suitcase”, fingerpicking folk on “Sweet Tuesday Morning” and straight up (sorry) rock on “Sometimes”. Pete’s “Perfection” and Tommy’s “It’s Over” show off the band’s versatility, but the real centerpiece is “Day After Day”, another Pete Ham masterpiece, right down to the angelic harmonies, twin slide leads and nice piano touches from Leon Russell.

Reviews of Straight Up were mixed at the time, which is astounding considering that the same album led several wish lists until its eventual CD release in the ‘90s. The new power pop generation could finally hear the roots of Teenage Fanclub and Jellyfish in pristine quality, and the band gained even more overdue praise. Even the requisite bonus tracks were interesting, including some early alternate takes and the shimmering single mix of “Baby Blue”. Some of those bonuses were carried over to the next CD, while others were relegated to download-only status in favor of other outtakes. (At least the “missing” bonuses from the 1992 No Dice reissue turned up, this time in context.) Taken all together, it’s now possible to compile the earlier version of the album, and it’s clear that redoing it was the smart move. Straight Up was a four-star album when we began typing this, but has since been upgraded. Justifiably.

Badfinger Straight Up (1972)—4½
1993 CD reissue: same as 1972, plus 6 extra tracks
2010 CD reissue: same as 1972, plus 6 extra tracks

Badfinger 2: No Dice

Having added the photogenic Joey Molland on lead guitar, Badfinger became a rock band (as opposed to a pop group). They weren’t able to escape the Beatle comparisons, especially being the only rock band on the Apple label, which had to promote No Dice alongside the other five Beatle solo projects that had been released in 1970. It also didn’t help when one of their songs was called “Love Me Do”, and another (“Believe Me”) is a dead ringer for “Oh! Darling”.

But they do benefit from the jolt of electricity, with “I Can’t Take It” leaping from the speakers, and the stellar power pop of “No Matter What”, one of the greatest rock songs of all time, as the first single. Pete Ham starts to emerge as the hidden genius in the band, thanks to the sentimental “Midnight Caller” and the verse portion of “Without You”; the chorus was added by Tom Evans, and soon became a worldwide hit in a syrupy arrangement under Harry Nilsson’s added ache. “Blodwyn” is a nice dose of Welsh folk, and “We’re For The Dark” gets a touch of strings to help it along.

Not to be outdone, drummer Mike Gibbins was responsible for the riveting “It Had To Be”, sung well by Pete that we keep forgetting he didn’t write it himself. Joey collaborated, mostly with Tom, on the dynamic “I Don’t Mind”, while “Better Days” chugs along amid an excellent guitar frame. (He alone was responsible for “Love Me Do”.) “Watford John” is a rollicking boogie-woogie credited to each member.

No Dice is a decent album, and holds together as one, which is why it gets an edge in its rating. It was a moderate hit as well, partially from the Beatle connection and mostly because of “No Matter What”, and was one of the most anticipated reissues of the initial CD era. Of course, only one of the bonus tracks on that ended up on the 2010 CD, and another was only available henceforth digitally, the balance of both taken up by demos and alternate versions, but that doesn’t detract from the quality of the 12-track album proper.

Badfinger No Dice (1970)—3½
1992 CD reissue: same as 1970, plus 5 extra tracks
2010 CD reissue: same as 1970, plus 5 extra tracks

Badfinger 1: Maybe Tomorrow and Magic Christian Music

Every now and then we wish VH-1 would repeat some of their original Behind The Music episodes. Surely if they can show that hideous four-hour Jackson family dramatization (starring Freddie “Boom-Boom” Washington as Papa Joe) twice a month, can’t we at least relive the Leif Garrett story at 3am?

One of the better installments was the one they did for Badfinger. This was far and away one of the best and truly saddest stories they tackled. While every other profile at least suggested that there was hope after the big crash, the Badfinger story started about elbow high, then sank steadily. There was no big career arc here, outside of getting discovered by the Beatles via their roadie Mal Evans, which probably did as much work against them as for them. They sported a truly great songwriter in Pete Ham, a guy who loved nothing more than writing songs and making records. And when the music business took that away from him, he hung himself.

It really is a shame, since they started with such promise. They also started with a different lineup and sound. Signed to Apple under the name The Iveys, they recorded a pleasant pop album with more than a little Beatle influence, if closer to the Bee Gees. Due to the first of what would be continual record company shenanigans at the band’s expense, Maybe Tomorrow was released only in Germany, Italy, and Japan, but not in the UK or the US.

The album’s kinda all over the place, starting with the rocking “See-Saw Grampa” (with Nicky Hopkins on piano) into the more sentimental “Beautiful And Blue”. From Ron Griffiths’ extra sweet “Dear Angie” through Tom Evans’ lilting “Fisherman”, “Angelique”, and the title track, it’s the sound of a group finding its own pop sound in a time when that was becoming passé for a rock band. Drummer Mike Gibbins even gets a hand in with the middling “Think About The Good Times”. Pete’s “Yesterday Ain’t Coming Back” and “They’re Knocking Down Our Home” and Tom’s “I’m In Love” are music hall-style trifles, a genre they were wise to abandon going forward, but “Sali Bloo” and “I’ve Been Waiting” show a desire to rock heavy.

Within a year Ron left the band, but first they were given the assignment of replicating a Paul McCartney demo for the soundtrack of a movie Ringo was in. Despite its lyrical brevity, “Come And Get It” was a catchy hit, and the band (now called Badfinger) were allowed to contribute a couple more songs to the film. The resulting Magic Christian Music album included those songs, plus seven tracks (six in the U.S.) from Maybe Tomorrow, some of which were remixed for the better.

Pete still hadn’t quite emerged as a songwriter yet, though “Midnight Sun” is a good excuse to rock and “Walk Out In The Rain” has intricately arranged harmonies. He and Tom collaborate on “Crimson Ship” (which sports a great chorus and guitar to match, even if it doesn’t make much sense), the more dramatic “Carry On Till Tomorrow”, and “Rock Of All Ages” (with McCartney bashing away on piano and adding occasional whoops), which join the songs brought forward to show the two sides of Tom. “Give It A Try”, a power pop template left off the U.S. LP, is a full band collaboration.

Despite the respect and royalties the band and estates finally received over the years, their digital legacy is just as confusing as their vinyl catalog. Both Maybe Tomorrow and Magic Christian Music (with the two songs left off the U.S. release) were included in the first CD versions of the Apple catalog, but only the latter album was featured in the 2010 rollout. As a further complication, the new CD offered different bonus tracks than the first time, with a further selection available only as either digital downloads or in a massive box set covering all the main Apple artists. (This was the only way to replicate the Maybe Tomorrow album in this century.)

Iveys Maybe Tomorrow (1969)—3
1992 CD reissue: same as 1969, plus 4 extra tracks
Badfinger Magic Christian Music (1970)—3
1992 CD reissue: same as 1970, plus 4 extra tracks
2010 CD reissue: same as 1970, plus 7 extra tracks