Twenty years after its initial demise, interest in Happy The Man’s
music is at its strongest. Although Happy The Man only released
two official albums during its 7-year existence, their impact
was strong enough on those lucky enough to be exposed to them to
durably endear the group to a cult following that has been
growing ever since. And with the passing of the years, Happy The
Man’s music has demonstrated a timeless quality which suggests
that it was not only ahead of its time, it was also, in many
ways, beyond this world.
The
story begins, strangely enough, at a US Army base in Germany in
mid-1972. Fort Wayne, Indiana-based bass player Rick Kennell, had
just been drafted and was stationed there, beginning a two-year
stint in the army. Having paid his dues with teenage band Zelda,
alongside drummer Michael Beck and singer Cliff Fortney, and
subsequently with Monolith, still with Beck but without Fortney
(who had moved on to the pre-Ethos band Atlantis), Kennell hoped
to resume his musical career as soon as he’d be finished with
his military commitments.
Good
fortune arrived in the shape of local band Shady Grove, whose
line-up included two Americans, guitarist Stanley Whitaker and
keyboard player David Bach. Whitaker, whose army officer father
had left his native Missouri for Germany four years previously,
was soon to graduate from high school, and while in Europe had
become familiar with all the major progressive rock bands -
Genesis, King Crimson, Gentle Giant, Yes and others. Whitaker and
Kennell met and jammed prior to Shady Grove’s gig and discovered
they had similar musical aspirations. Soon they made plans to form
a band together, although obviously it would be a while until
Kennell could actually take part.
Whitaker
relocated to Harrisonburg, Virginia, in the autumn of 1972 to
study at the James Madison University. Kennell arranged for him
and Bach to meet his former musical accomplices, Beck and Fortney,
who quickly moved to Virginia to start rehearsals. It was now
early 1973, and Whitaker’s elder brother, Ken, having elected to
become the band’s sound engineer, suggested the name Happy The
Man, a reference to Goethe’s "Faust", and the Bible,
rather than the obscure Genesis single which, at the time, nobody
in the band even knew existed.
David
Bach, who thought it wiser to devote time to getting his music
degree than playing his Farfisa organ with the band, quickly left.
Finding a replacement proved very easy. Whitaker had met Frank
Wyatt in a music theory class at JMU, and both were members of the
18-piece Jazz Ensemble led by their theory instructor Dr. George
West. A versatile multi-instrumentalist, Wyatt had started on
clarinet, changing to sax in eigth grade (he was All-State
Symphonic band first-chair tenor sax in Virginia for 3 consecutive
years), but also played piano, albeit less proficiently. He later
described his role as keyboard player in Happy The Man as the
keyboard equivalent to a rhythm guitarist.
This
wouldn’t be problem for Happy The Man since, around the same
time, Whitaker made another decisive discovery in the 19-year-old
son of Madison university piano teacher Lowell Watkins. The young
Christopher, soon known to all as Kit, had received instruction on
the piano from an early age, but had only become interested in
classical music - and the crucial influences of such composers as
Debussy and Ravel - (Whitaker and Wyatt's favorites) second-hand
through the work of European progressive bands like Genesis and
Gentle Giant. Watkins had finished high school the previous year,
and having dropped out of university after just one semester, was
now sharing his time between a day job in a factory and a cover
band, whose repertoire consisted mainly of reworkings of ELP and
Genesis material. In addition to his already considerable skills
on keyboards (which actually owed even more to Mahavishnu
Orchestra’s synth virtuoso Jan Hammer than the British masters),
he’d also taken flute lessons from fifth to tenth grade.
Most
of the subsequent months were spent assembling an original
repertoire, although Happy The Man’s earliest gigs included a
few covers, notably Genesis’s "Watcher Of The Skies",
King Crimson’s "21st Century Schizoid Man" and Van der
Graaf Generator’s "Man-Erg". The composition work was
shared equally between Whitaker, Watkins, Fortney and Wyatt,
although the latter would soon prove the most prolific. Typically,
the group would rehearse five or six nights a week, , and would
painstakingly attempt to master their complex arrangements, which
they would faithfully reproduce in their live performances. Happy
The Man’s music had little room for improvisation, and the songs
were played exactly the same way every time, even down to the
solos.
By
early 1974, Rick Kennell was finally able to join the band, and
soon after his arrival Happy The Man committed their first
compositions to tape. These early demos, along with some later
ones, were released in 1990 on the "Beginnings" CD.
While much more derivative than the band’s subsequent output,
these tracks already point to key elements of its future style -
the delicate melodies, sophisticated arrangements and floating
atmospheres - although the complex structures lack the purity and
fluidity of Happy The Man’s best work.
Later
that year, after about twenty concerts with the band, Fortney
departed, for a variety of reasons. He also planned to devote more
time to studying flute. His replacement was another friend of
Kennell and Beck’s from Indiana, Dan Owen, who stuck with Happy
The Man for about eight months before deciding to leave for
pastures new (becoming Genesis’s touring guitar tech, which led
to him singing on Anthony Phillips’ album "Sides"),
much to his colleagues’ regret. In fact the decision to turn
instrumental was taken at that point because they didn’t believe
they would be able to find anyone to top him.
During
the period when Owen was in the band, Happy The Man embarked on
possibly their most ambitious venture ever, the multimedia work
"Death’s Crown", which involved a sophisticated light
show and a dance troop and was only performed a handful of times.
The discovery of a long-lost rehearsal tape ensured that at least
the musical part (a continuous 38-minute suite divided into 11
parts) could see the light of day, on the 1999 self-titled CD. At
that point, Whitaker and Wyatt were still involved in George West’s
jazz ensemble, and Wyatt had forged a lasting creative
relationship with Eddie Kinestrick, a former University of New
York theater director then working in the theater department at
Madison. After HTM broke up, Wyatt and Kinestrick unsuccessfully
attempted to produce an off-Broadway musical based on "Death’s
Crown."
Owen’s
eventual departure proved a turning point in Happy The Man’s
career. The band dropped almost all of its previous material and
started almost from scratch in a new direction. Wyatt’s
composition "Leave That Kitten Alone, Armone" (titled
after Kinestrick's 3 legged dog) was the first step, later proving
a favourite of the band’s concert (although it was never
included on an album because producer Ken Scott didn’t like it),
quickly followed by Whitaker’s "Stumpy Meets The
Firecracker In Stencil Forest" and Watkins’ "Mr.
Mirror’s Reflection On Dreams". A further demo tape was
recorded in July 1975, showcasing the new instrumental-based
material, before Happy The Man decided to move to Washington,
D.C., with a view to gaining a larger following and securing a
recording contract. In a matter of months, an hour’s worth of
new music was written, and the band quickly gained a loyal
following, in large part because of consistent airplay and support
from the Georgetown University public radio station WGTB-FM.
Before long, HTM signed a management deal with the owners of The
Cellar Door, a local venue where the band performed many times.
In
mid-1976, the band finally managed to secure a contract with
Arista. This was shortly after Happy The Man, through their
manager’s business connections, brought the band to the
attention of former Genesis lead vocalist Peter Gabriel, then
looking for a backing group. On June 28th, Gabriel came down to
the band’s house in Arlington for a trial session, where he
presented the band with some of his newly written material,
notably the song "Slowburn", which they rehearsed. For
some reason, the singer went away with the impression that HTM
sounded too much like Genesis, which was something he wanted to
avoid. But there was also some reluctance from the band’s point
of view : although Gabriel’s offer may haveincluded HTM opening
each of his gigs with a set of their own material, they were
unsure whether this would be a viable arrangement in the long
term. Happy The Man felt very strongly about their own music, and
wanted to devote a hundred percent of their creativity and energy
to it.
Although
inconclusive, this brief association with Gabriel dramatically
increased the band’s profile, and the contract offered by Arista
- a five-year, multi-album deal - certainly reflected that. The
label’s boss, former CBS Records executive Clive Davis, seemed
to understand that Happy The Man was bound to remain a marginal,
if not cult phenomenon, although he was also convinced that a big
break could come from the film industry - their music’s
cinematic quality, he thought, would be the perfect match for a
science-fiction movie. Although Arista eventually unceremoniously
dropped the band, they did initially believe in its potential,
investing a quarter of a million dollars in the production of its
two albums.
"Happy
The Man" was recorded at A&M Studios towards the end of
1976, with Ken Scott assuming production duties. The band had all
admired his groundbreaking work with such luminaries as the
Mahavishnu Orchestra, Supertramp and David Bowie, and invited him
to attend one of their live performances at the Cellar Door. Scott
was hooked, and spent a lot of time, in the weeks prior to the
sessions, listening to tapes of the band’s music to think of
production ideas and tricks (such as recording guitar and synth
solos at half speed and/or multi-tracking them, as evidenced in
what Whitaker referred to as his ‘cartoon music’ pieces,
"Stumpy.." and "Knee-Bitten Nymphs...", or the
introduction to "Carousel") that could help showcasing
the full extent of their talent. His commitment to the project was
all the more welcome as Happy The Man’s experience of studio
technology was thus far confined to a four-track demo session...
Although
Scott’s perfectionism - he would often get the band members to
do 20-30 takes of any given section to get it perfectly right -
may have ended up taking some intensity and life out of the
performances in certain cases, it did however ensure that the
exceptional sophistication of Happy The Man’s unique
arrangements and sound was captured in all its futuristic glory.
This was particularly true of the more ethereal sections, based on
dreamy and floating textures created by sustained strings and
arpeggiated Rhodes piano, and enhanced with sophisticated harmonic
and melodic writing, not to mention the frequent use of irregular
meters and rhythmic syncopation.
The
album is largely intrumental, with Stanley Whitaker taking the
lead vocal on the two numbers that do feature lyrics, penned by
Frank Wyatt. Although he later pursued solo and band ventures that
showcased his vocal talents, Whitaker was initially reluctant to
sing, which accounts in part for the low amount of singing on HTM’s
Arista albums. In fact, the closing number on the album, "New
York Dream’s Suite", initially featured vocals, but those
were subsequently removed in favour of a completely instrumental
version. This conceptual mini-suite was for the most part mentally
composed by Wyatt on the Staten Island ferry, while visiting New
York City and staying on the Island with some of the dancers from
the "Death’s Crown" troop. Its plot - the story of a
man waking from a dream state to the roar of the city - is
probably the best description of what the listener experiences
after the last notes of the album have evaporated. Reality after
listening to a Happy The Man album can only be disappointing.
The weeks following the release of Happy The Man
left little doubt that it wasn’t going to be the surprise top-seller
of Arista’s fantasies. It did have a certain commercial and critical
impact though, and a good part of 1977 was spent supporting it on
the road. The band’s management put them on tours supporting various
artists, including Foreigner, Renaissance, Stomu Yamash’ta and Hot
Tuna. The latter, a Jefferson Airplane spinoff group, provided Happy
The Man with its attendance record, when they performed in front of
an audience of almost 10,000 at the Field House in Long Island.
Sadly a large number of audients voiced their distate for HTM’s live
warhorse «Stumpy Meets the Firecracker in Stencil Forest» and the
set had to be cut short early in the game. A lost opportunity for
superstardom...
Although Happy The Man gained popularity through
this constant exposure to the public, there was one major problem -
an almost total lack of radio airplay. Despite Arista’s
encouragements to feature Stanley Whitaker’s vocals more
extensively, the two vocal tracks on the album were still deemed too
uncommercial by radio stations to be aired alongside the latest
hits. The band entertained the hope that their hard work would
eventually pay off, and embarked on a largely self-booked college
tour.
Meanwhile, Wyatt, Watkins and Whitaker kept
writing new material, which marked, at least in the eyes of drummer
Mike Beck, a move to a coarser, harder-edged sound that, he felt,
didn’t suit his playing style, which was based at least as much on
the use of all manner of percussion than the conventional drum kit.
Musical disagreements reached a head early in 1978, when he and the
band mutually decided to go their separate ways.
Enter Ron Riddle, a veteran of several
Boston-based bands, most of them featuring him alongside keyboard
player Greg Hawkes. Their last collaboration was a line-up that,
after a couple of personnel changes, went on to become The Cars.
After his stint with Happy The Man, Riddle went on to play on somes
of the Cars’ members’ solo albums, and one of the pieces he’d
co-written with Hawkes, «Service With A Smile» (dating back to 1973
and a progressive outfit called Waves), became the second album’s
opener and a live favourite, in spite of its tricky 11/8 rhythms.
Riddle was living in Washington, D.C. at the
time, and after attending a HTM concert, had forged a friendship
with Mike Beck. Both percussionists actually worked on some private
recordings, until Riddle was offered the job of replacing his
friend. The offer was understandably met with
some embarrassment by Riddle, not least because the recording
sessions for the new album were to begin in only a week’s time, not
to mention in California !
Ken Scott, whose skills as producer and sound
engineer had so benefitted the first album, was of course retained,
and the sessions went smoothly, albeit with Scott’s usual
perfectionism, which meant countless takes of each part until
everything was played according to his high standards of quality. Of
the songs on the album, three - «Service With A Smile», «I Forgot To
Push It» and «Wind Up Doll Day Wind» (whose lyrics compared man’s
daily routine to a wind-up doll always doing the same things) - had
previously been demoed to Arista to sell them on exercising their
option for the album; «Open Book» was a theme salvaged from the
«Death’s Crown» suite; and the somewhat obscurely titled «Ibby It
Is» told the musical story of a surrealistic cartoon character who
wanted to become a real person, the name Ibby being a slight
distortion of that of a roadie friend of the band named Izzy.
Back on the East Coast, Riddle decided not to
join Happy The Man, reckoning he wouldn’t be able to spent as much
time working with the band as would be needed. At that point most of
the members lived together in the same house, a communal lifestyle
which meant an almost total commitment to the band, and Riddle felt
his girlfriend at the time wouldn’t allow that. Obviously, he also
still felt uncomfortable with the idea of taking Beck’s job. So
Riddle left the band after only a few weeks, not having played any
gigs with Happy The Man.
Auditions of potential candidates for the
drummer’s stool followed, until the ideal man for the job was found.
French drummer Coco Roussel was a veteran of such legendary
progressive outfits as Heldon, the Magma-related band led by
guitarist and philosophy graduate Richard Pinhas, and Clearlight,
the ensemble led by pianist Cyrille Verdeaux which he’d briefly
joined for a UK tour supporting Gong in 1975. In 1976 he’d moved to
D.C. with his American wife hoping to find new and exciting musical
opportunities there. These took some time to present themselves,
though, and only in June 1978 did he find the band he was looking
for : Happy The Man.
Although this was to be an artistically
successful move for Roussel, Happy The Man was at that point
entering a period of intense difficulties. Arista’s diminishing
interest for the band became most apparent when, following the
disappointing sales of «Crafty Hands», the label decided to drop
them. This followed disagreements on the album’s sleeve design
(Wyatt personally went to New York to refuse to let Arista use the
proposed cover, which depicted a man at a peephole with a bucket of
chicken in his hands, saying ‘service with a smile!’ - the band
found Mario Grimaldi’s art and insisted on using it) as well as
HTM’s uncompromising musical direction.
The termination of the Arista contract in turn
led to management problems, and in a matter of weeks Happy The Man
was left without either a management or record deal. Although
disillusion began to creep in at that point, creatively the band was
still at its peak, and a wealth of new material was composed. This
was thankfully witnessed by a demo tape recorded in February 1979 at
the band house in Reston, Virginia. It was to prove their last
recording.
When the tape failed to interest any record
labels - interest in progressive music was at an all-time low in the
late Seventies - and Watkins received the lucrative offer to join
British group Camel for the band’s new album and lucrative world
tour, by May 1979 Happy The Man was no more. The final demo tape
resurfaced four years later as the «Better Late...» album, released
on Watkins’ own Azimuth label. In the meantime three tracks on it
had seen the light of day on other projects - «Eye Of The Storm» on
Camel’s «I Can See Your House From Here», and «While Crome Yellow
Shine» and «Labyrinth» on Watkins’ solo album named after the
latter.
After his involvement in Camel, which ended in
1982, Kit Watkins devoted his time and creativity to a successful
and acclaimed career as a solo artist in a more ‘new-age’ vein, but
also collaborations with Coco Roussel - their duo album «In Time»
(1985) and Roussel’s solo «Reaching Beyond» (1992) - and a memorable
guest appearance on Richard Sinclair’s «R.S.V.P.» (1994).
After turning down an offer from Peter Gabriel to
play on his third solo album, Stanley Whitaker formed the band
Vision with Rick Kennell and original HTM keyboardist David Bach. A
more commercial proposition than Happy The Man, it eventually
deteriorated into a cover band. In 1985, Whitaker and Bach formed
One By One, followed in 1993 by Avalon. In 1994, Whitaker moved to
Los Angeles and started gigging with local prog band Ten Jinn. He
was later featured, in special guest capacity, on their second
album, «As On A Darkling Plain», and also appeared with them at the
Baja Prog ‘98 festival in Mexicali, where he performed a medley of
HTM classics «Stumpy...» and «Steaming Pipes». While remaining
active in solo capacity, he also formed the power trio Spirit Noise
in 1996.
After Vision came to an end in the mid-80s, Rick
Kennell made a successful career move to business management in the
entertainment industry. In 1994, following the failure of a first
attempt to re-unite Happy The Man, he had plans to form a trio with
virtuoso keyboard player Jordan Ruddess (who instead moved on to the
Dixie Dregs and Dream Theater) and Ron Riddle.
Frank Wyatt moved to New York City, and with his
collaborator Eddie Kinestrick managed to find some backing to
produce a musical based on «Death’s Crown». The project went as far
as initial rehearsals, but came to an abrupt end when investors
pulled the finances in favour of a much more profitable commodity
option on Wall Street. Wyatt subsequently took a job as a carpenter,
building stage sets, briefly worked as a PA in the film industry,
and moved to Hawaii - a major obstacle to any HTM reunion until the
advent of digital and Midi technology. Although he kept composing
during these years, much of the output was lost following a burglary
at his house in which most of his gear was stolen and never
recovered.
Of the other former members of the band, Mike
Beck and Cliff Fortney were reunited in The Dr.Bob Band in the early
80s, and more recently Dog Talk. Ron Riddle was Blue Oyster Cult’s
drummer from 1986 to 1991, then worked with bass virtuoso Stuart
Hamm, while enjoying a successful career in advertising and film
music and running his own studio.
A reunion of Happy The Man was attemped in
1993-94, but geographical and scheduling problems couldn’t be
overcome. The closest thing to a reunion so far took place in 1996
when Kennell, Whitaker and Riddle all contributed to a project by
Kennell’s wife Leah Waybright, a classically trained player (who
incidentally studied at James Madison University with Kit Watkins’
father), "Beauty Gone Wild". With all members now relocated to the
East Coast of the USA, no practical difficulties can now prevent the
project to go ahead, and the year 2000 should witness the release of
a new studio album, as well as Happy The Man’s first live
performance in over two decades (at the second edition of the
NEARfest progressive festival in June), with a line-up of Whitaker,
Wyatt, Kennell, Riddle and newcomer David Rosenthal on keyboards,
replacing Watkins who is unwilling to perform live again.
Aymeric Leroy
Thanks to Frank Wyatt, Kit Watkins, Dan Casey, Anil Prasad, George
Varga, John Covach and Morgan Roussel for their help and/or source
material.