STATUS QUO - Dog of Two Head 12" Vinyl LP Album

- 1971 French Release with Gatefold Album Cover

Too straight, too simple, too... English. But let's crank the volume up on 'Dog of Two Head', and maybe, just maybe, we find a flicker of something worth getting riled up about.

Status Quo weren't exactly reinventing the wheel when this slab of vinyl hit the shelves. They'd already been slogging it out for half a decade, morphing from psychedelic popsters into purveyors of a decidedly un-hip brand of boogie rock. The prevailing winds of '71 were blowing towards prog and glam, but Quo were stubbornly digging their heels in, refusing to let go of the blues-based riffola that would become their trademark.

'Dog of Two Head' is the sound of a band caught between a rock and a hard place. They're not quite ready to embrace the full-throttle, three-chord attack of their later years, but they're also starting to shed the vestiges of their psychedelic past. The album lurches from the proto-metal stomp of the title track to the faux-country shuffle of 'Someone's Learning', and from the Stones-y swagger of 'Railroad' to the meandering, almost proggy instrumental 'Gerdundula'. It's a messy, uneven record, but there's a raw energy and a sense of restless experimentation that makes it strangely compelling.

Of course, none of this would matter if the songs weren't any good. And while 'Dog of Two Head' isn't exactly packed with classics, there are a few nuggets worth digging for. The title track is a bona fide stomper, with a riff that burrows its way into your brain and refuses to let go. 'Umleitung' is a frantic instrumental workout that shows off the band's chops, while 'Nanana' is a surprisingly catchy slice of pop-rock. Fans often debate the merits of deeper cuts like the melancholic 'Mean Girl' and the extended jam of 'Gerdundula', showcasing the band's range even in their early years.

The production, courtesy of John Schroeder, is a mixed bag. The guitars are thick and crunchy, but the drums sound a bit flat and lifeless. The overall mix is muddy and cluttered, which doesn't do the songs any favors. Some audiophiles argue that the album's raw sound adds to its charm, while others lament the missed opportunity for a cleaner, more polished recording. And let's not even talk about the album cover, a psychedelic monstrosity that looks like it was designed by a committee of acid casualties. The cover art, while divisive, has become iconic in its own right, sparking countless conversations and parodies over the years.

Controversy? Not really. Status Quo were never the kind of band to court scandal. They were too busy honing their craft and building a loyal following. But there was a sense, even back then, that they were swimming against the tide. The critics largely ignored them, and the hipsters sneered at their lack of sophistication. But Quo didn't care. They were in it for the long haul, and they knew that their time would come.

'Dog of Two Head' is not a great album, but it's an important one. It's a snapshot of a band in transition, finding their footing and forging their own path. It also marks the departure of original bassist Alan Lancaster, adding another layer of intrigue to the album's legacy. It's also a reminder that sometimes the most unfashionable music can be the most enduring. So let's raise a glass to Status Quo, the perennial underdogs who refused to roll over and play dead.