Long long ago, a remarkable band sprang forth fully formed from the fertile ground of London’s Notting Hill Gate – an area which saw the first of the city’s alternative/hippie strongholds slowly coalesce. They called themselves Quintessence, partly lived in an extended spiritual community, and duly taught their audiences to chant, dance and generally groove along with their intoxicating sounds. They even filled the Albert Hall – not once but twice.

By the time Quintessence finally disbanded, the hippie dream was already distant memory, Notting Hill Gate had turned to reggae, and the band’s audience had evaporated. But, for a brief few years, Quintessence lit up the musical landscape of Europe with a sound and message so unique that to this day no-one has ever managed to emulate it.

In this more brutal age we now live in, the idea of musicians urging their audience to chant Hindu mantras, with the audience gladly responding, might seem unrealistic at best. But in the brief years when hippies ruled in the UK, between 1969-1972, peace love and good vibes still meant a great deal, and the dream of a larger community had not been split apart. The youth of Europe were open to exploration, and Quintessence certainly gave them something to explore. Instead of preaching hedonism and self indulgence, the band had a far more enlightening message: search for God within – and dance while you are doing so.

The band ploughed a fascinating path – improvised music and long jams like the Grateful Dead, or the UK’s now-forgotten Mighty Baby but with the added vibes of spirituality centred around their very own live-in guru, the god-intoxicated Swami Ambikananda. At the time, there were subtle but unmistakeable differences between the styles of the famous US West Groups such as the Dead, Airplane and Quicksilver and the more blues-based UK bands such as Ten Years After, Jethro Tull and the original Fleetwood Mac. Quintessence managed a rock style somewhere between these two schools, another unique achievement.

They were, as respected music journalist Chris Welch (another hero of the time) enthusiastically observes, above all an astounding live act. In fact their message was so intoxicating and powerful that people to this day attest to life changing experiences from hearing them. And what other band could begin a song with “I was sitting, pondering the wonders of the universe..” and get away with it? Truly unique.

Quintessence music could veer from out-and-out rockers through to well-known Indian chants, taking along the way as many fascinating musical twists and turns as the audience could handle. At their peak, Quintessence not only filled the Albert Hall, but played two big rock festivals including the second ever festival at Glastonbury (catch a brief glimpse of the band on the Glastonbury Fayre movie), toured English cathedrals and persuaded their record company to produce some of the most beautiful album sleeves that have ever existed. They inspired a generation, the many thousands of young men and women who went on to follow spiritual practices and leave their hippie days behind them. Their work was God-directed and inspirational, but sadly the dynamics of touring, communal living and different lifestyle choices in the end broke them apart.

The band’s legacy scarcely lived on at all for many years, as other musical styles came and went and the original members went their separate ways. Quintessence was as good as forgotten.

But slowly, magically, this decade the Quintessence back catalogue has resurfaced, and interest in the band’s music has grown again. Better still, Swiss musician Rudra Beauvert has lovingly cajoled the band’s enigmatic lead singer Shiva Jones back to the microphone. The two have now released two fine albums carrying on the Quintessence tradition and where necessary reinterpreting some Q classics. What goes around, as they say, comes around. And perhaps Quintessence is finally due the acclaim the band deserves as a pioneering, unique act.

The magic of Quintessence is in one sense hinted at by the name, because there was a definite spiritual alchemy at work, and Quintessence is an alchemical word.

Shiva was the front man, looking like a young Byronic romantic poet or, for followers of Eastern religion, an ecstatic young Lord Chaitanya, the Bengali saint who inspired a whole devotional movement in the 10th century. Shiva had presence. He seemed to spring fully formed out of nowhere, but in fact was a reincarnated Australian blues man who moved to the UK for a change of lifestyle. Shiva knew how to move the crowd, and hold a stage.

If Shiva was the yang of the group, Raja Ram was the counter-balancing yin. An inspired, playful figure with a flute, he produced extraordinary, haunting sounds way before the New Age had even been thought of. Raja Ram, the pied piper, perfectly complemented Shiva’s intensity.

The third element to the band was the guitar skill of the introspective Allan Mostert. It is through Allan’s measured interplay that we hear the unmistakeable similarities to Jerry Garcia as he was at his 1970s peak before the drugs slowed him down. Allan could cook up a storm – de rigeur in the blues boom atmosphere of the late sixties – but he was equally a thoughtful guitarist who could play exquisitely subtle passages. As Quintessence evolved, so did Allan’s style – he learned to leave aside his effects pedals and play soft.

Then came the rhythm section – Maha Dev on rhythm guitar, stoking the engine and keeping it going – and keeping right on the spiritual message; Shambu on sturdy bass guitar that kept pace with Allan’s inspired leaps, and Jake on drums and percussion. The three were the roots of a very exotic tree.

The final influences of the band are more hidden. First up is producer John Barham, who like in any legendary group, shared the band’s vision and lifestyle. Then there was the extended ashram family, there to see in a famous picture of the group in an English park with wives, girlfriends, roadies, dogs, babies, and friends plus Swami-ji. Finally, the audiences: young, respectful, not yet drowned by the more brutal musical trends that were about to follow.

And, of course, drugs. Given the time, the place, and the generation, hallucinogens were believed to aid spiritual realization and the cultural impact of acid in particular explains how a band as quirky as Quintessence could ever have gathered an audience in the first place. It also explains the derision of the generation that followed – speed was their favoured drug of choice - , and the subsequent caricatures any ex-hippies have had to live with ever after. Shame. As Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe put it perfectly at the time nihilistic punk reigned the airwaves, “what’s so funny about peace, love and understanding?”

The legacy of the band is contained in three lavishly-packaged albums released under the then ground-breaking Island label, and the final two albums released by RCA. A slender legacy, and crucially Quintessence never released a wholly live album – “Self” is the nearest thing to it. But those albums deserve a close listen. Thankfully, they are all now available on re-issued CDs.

Each Quintessence album follows the same rough blueprint, which defines the band’s unusual direction. But each album in turn refines this blueprint, showing how tight the musicians became from constant playing and touring.

First, comes the Indian-tinged sitar/flute/tabla influence, together with lyrical concerns based on Vedanta and the devotional traditions of the great Bengali sage Ramakrishna. Ordinary love songs? Forget them. These are tunes dedicated to the Divine Mother, or extolling the virtues of Krishna, Mahadev Shiva and Vishnu, meditation and self exploration. Making modern music out of such exalted religious traditions is a skill that few have ever acquired – and Quintessence pull it off, time and time again.

Then, interspersed throughout the albums, are brief Hindu or devotional chants, reminders that the band really did practice what it preached.

The third element provides much of the creative tension in the band, because hidden under the sophisticated Indian veneer is a blues jam band struggling to get out. Not that the band was all bluster and wah-wah pedals. The interplay between Allan Mostert’s lead and Shambu’s bass gets better and better as the albums progress, but the real power comes from MahaDev’s rhythmn guitar and Jake’s assured drumming.

That is the Quintessence mix, and their music reflects tension between these elements at times. One can only guess, down the years, at the different camps and power groups within the band that led to their demise, but musically it is this very tension that gives the band an edge. Fast, furious, to gentle and contemplative is quite a leap, but Quintessence manage it with skill. See what you think and have a listen.

Trax:

Produced by John Barham, Island Records 1969

The first remarkable thing about the album is the sleeve. Even reduced as it now is down to a CD, the shining golden-faced figure sitting in lotus in what looks like the Himalayas is instantly arresting. It looks to be Vishnu/Narayan rather than as some think, Shiva or even one of the Goddesses (check out the tilak on the forehead) but even more remarkable is the gentle, almost bashful expression on this God’s face.

The album’s cover is an uncompromising statement of intent. No messing around with sex and drugs on this one.. But it is also not quite the band at its peak. At places Quintessence sounds like most other bands of the period – with lead guitar and blues based chord progressions to the fore. Raja Ram’s flute is not quite the dominant force it later became. Still, the band has an album deal and the backing of the record company.. so off they go and come up with a near-masterpiece. If you think that the only other alternative for flute-rich music at the time was Jethro Tull (then riding high in the charts) you can understand how different Quintessence really was, right from the start.

Giants

Manco Capac

The Body

Ganga Mai

Chant

Brahman

Moody track, quintessentially Quintessence. Who else could cook up a song about Brahman, and make it singable? A favourite Q moment. And not a sitar around.

Seer

Ballad with a gentle electric piano.. a sitar makes a brief apologetic appearance. Sort of Spanish vibe as Shiva sings of a realised master, the Seer, with his usual intensity. This is a track much liked by Q fans but is done better on the much later Shiva Shakti album.

Epitaph for tomorrow A shamanic intro, is that a didge we hear? Another epic, and the extra coloration evident throughout the album does this track proud, though it is not the strongest of Q tracks. “When we see in each other your loyal soul brother” is all the more poignant considering what was around the corner for the band. Not the greatest of Allen’s lead breaks, but Maha Dev helps keep the track ignited. Towards the end the track morphs and quietens with some very Revolver-esque feedback from all concerned, and the end is the most beautiful part of the track as each band member adds their own little trills and whirls, reminiscent of the Dead. Then it briefly revives into a full blown jam before fading away.

Sri Ram Chant

Sitars, flute, and a Swami Ambikananda version of Sri Ram. Crystal clear, actually one of the most beautiful of all the Q chants. Plus the Q choir. I don’t know who is playing the tablas, but they do a good job.

SELF (RCA 1972)

Trax:

Cosmic Surfer

Wonders of the Universe

Just fantastic. This is the song with the bare courage to begin “I was sitting, pondering, the wonders of the universe..” You’ve got to love a man that sings that. A great great favourite.

Vishnu-Narayan

An alert that all is not as it seems in the Quintessence camp, because for once the lead singer, isn’t Shiva but Mahadev, although Shiva sings harmonies. Despite the absence of the main man, this too is a wonderful surprise because it begins as if it is an entirely normal pop song until you realize what the band is singing about “the truth was realized by everyone” . From this cheerful beguiling beginning the track turns out to be a bona-fide masterpiece, full of punch and dynamic control.

Hallelujad

Celestial Procession

Side two of the original album begins with this little slice of heaven, the pastures of plenty, sheep, water, flutes, sitar, that kind of thing, a perfect opener for what is to come.

Self

Fantastic slice of the kind of English language chant you might hear at a Ramakrishna or Sivananda ashram. The whole band and choir steps up for this. “Love incomprehensible; transcendental”. Now if Yes had tried to carry this off, it would have been laughable. Quintessence, however, plus extended family, do it with aplomb.

Freedom/Water Goddess

The peak of Quintessence’s recorded career, these two tracks show how far the band have come in their journey.. we join them as they launch into an impassioned harangue from Shiva about what you have to do if you want your freedom, and he gradually lowers the intensity and turns to the congas.. which in turn gives way to music that matches the Dead’s “Dark Star” as Mostert plays with incredible fluidity all the while paced by the rhythmn section. At times this jam is indistinguishable from 1972-style Grateful Dead interplay between Garcia and Phil Lesh, but with a slight extra silvery edge. This is music that shimmers and dances, demands perfect synchronicity between musicians and audience.

You get to hear how the musicians also gave each other space. Raja Ram gets his turn and his flute has never sounded better as he, too, leads the music gently on to the safe shores of Ganga Mai. Here we get to listen to exactly how the band interacts with the audience. Shiva’s regal “Yes, you may sing” is one of my all-time favourite stage comments ever. How could one dare refuse as the music leads you on? I assume Raja Ram acts as the ring master and crowd encourager and the chant carries on in call and response fashion – another favourite moment is Shambu’s bass as it powers the chant. Then, woe, the track fades out, the circus passes and it’s the end. Not even any bonus tracks on the CD reissue which combines Self with Indweller. But for a brief shining few minutes, you are there in some sweaty hall, listening to complex, celestial music from a band at its peak.

INDWELLER (RCA 1972)

1-JESUS MY LIFE (by Swami Ambikananda)

2-BUTTERFLY MUSIC

3-IT'S ALL THE SAME

4-INDWELLER

5-HOLY ROLLER

6-PORTABLE REALM

7-SAI BABA (by Swami Ambikananda)

8-ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL

9-DEDICATION

10-BLISS TRIP

11-MOTHER OF THE UNIVERSE

Quintessence without Shiva and Mahadev just did not work out, and this is mostly a sadly inferior album with very little magic to it. Amiable, but the vocals from Shambu are more enthusiastic than soaring, and the general feel of the album is muddied, purity lost. But at its best it’s a sort of Workingman’s Dead Quintessence, stripped down to acoustic guitars. Maybe it represents the yearnings of a band that has seen too much, too fast. But it was relative commercial suicide.

Just when you think there is no redeeming feature, however, comes the final Quintessence masterpiece, the staggering “Bliss Trip”. But why, lads, why? Why did you break up..

The album does not fully merit a track by track break down, but you can only feel for a band that was rapidly finding itself out of its own time. This came out in 1972, just as Gary Glitter, Marc Bolan and David Bowie were about to hit it big and sweep away for ever the hippie era. Some of the tracks are fairly lightweight jams, others are just plainly substandard. But ,as I said, listen to the three final tracks for a glimpse of the old Quintessence.. chants into “Bliss Trip” , a track that irresistibly draws you into stillness. It is a masterpiece, beginning with thunder, wind, gongs and the low throb of what sounds like a church organ. On top of that, Raja Ram sounds at his most Indian with brief flute phases. But the whole direction of this song is down, quieter and lower. In a way it is an elegy to the whole band’s history, somber, impenetrable, meditative. It is the soundtrack to a wonderful era that has now passed.

The other noteworthy track is the jaunty “Jesus my life” which starts the album off.. not a sitar or flute to be heard. But just as you might be thinking the band has suddenly turned all born-again on you, you suddenly realize the lyrics are a wonderfully subversive take on Jesus.. “eternal cosmic consciousness” etc.. not something you can hear in an average church, that’s for sure.

SHIVA SHAKTI (MYSTIC RECORDS 2003)

1-NOTTING HILL GATE

2-THE SEER

3-HIGH ON MT.KAILASH

4-MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

5-SHIVA SHAKTI

6-PARVATI DEVI

7-BRAHMAN

8-ORANGO TANGO

9-SEA OF IMMORTALITY

10-DARK BROTHER

Better version than the rather tedious poppy original, with a new bridge, and even a flute synth included. But there is no doubt we are in the 21st century here, and not a wah-wah guitar sound can be spotted. Rudra does a good job of providing at times an almost Hawkwind-esque backing.

Never my favourite Q track at all, it sounded a little too sickly. This version is far better , Rudra does a fine job moving the song along with a few touches of a mellotronic synth. The song, though, is still a little naff as we say in the UK. It morphs into a Ramakrishna chant before the bouncy injunction “Do the Shiva dance”. Not my cup of tea, this track.

One of the greatest Q tracks ever, this version is no slouch either. What is different is the rhythmn track added, which gives a changed flavour, less meditative and more dancey, especially when it opens out to another chant, this time a famous Krishna chant. Back we go to Shiva, but hey the track can cope. Rudra adds a bit of accordion somewhere in the mix. So it is more upbeat, less contemplative than the Q version. Ends well, everything tied together.

Begins well with the sound of a conch or a temple horn, then takes a sharp dive to the ground, with a few mock Indian voices and a sample of.. well it sounds like from that movie about Shangri-La, Lost horizons, but I could be wrong. There is no middle ground. You’ll either love this track.. it must have been a lot of fun to make.. or you wont. It’s funny, I guess, but a bit of a joyful mess. I reckon they should have just let the music speak a while on this track. Trippy. That’s the word I’m looking for.

Shiva and new musical partner Rudra Beauvert set out their stall with an ambitious 2 disc set , and Quintessence fans will immediately head for Disc 2, which contains some excellent reworkings of old classics. But one suspects that the real interest of this project for both were the new songs on Disc 1. Over the years Shiva, aka Phil Jones, has found some rootedness back in Australia and runs a busy if unusual ministry – healing through the use of didgeridoo. All power to him. In an age where hot stones placed on backs can cost you $100 a session, didgeridoo and sound vibrational healing deserves to find a ready audience. Anyway, his new mission in life involves touring of another sort – this seems to be Shiva’s destiny – and while on the road, ideas come tumbling out. This album is the result, and it demands careful listening. Or, as Shiva so aptly says “don’t you come the raw prawn with me, mate” .

The album is well packaged and Shiva himself writes some excellent notes explaining where he’s at and what the album is about, as well as praising his buddy Rudra and lauding the spirit of the original Quintessence. You are on safe ground.. “I’m saying; Hi everybody! Just when we need another Quintessence, I’m back” Good on yer, blue. Great vocal back-ups too especially in the chanting.

I guess what some might miss here, however are longer ambient tracks which can build atmosphere, but given this highlights Shiva’s vocals, maybe next time, eh? Part of Quintessence’s strength was its ability to jam and push the boat out, but this project seems to span continents, so that kind of in-house “let’s streeeeeeeetch” gets lost. Still, all in all, another great effort and a valuable update on Shiva’s progression from blues singer, through to moody chanting rock god, and back to earth as an all-round earthy vibrational shaman with an eye for the absurdities of the New Age movement.

David Icke would be proud of this mordant take on modern consumer culture which begins the album. Rudra plus guests create a spiky, techno pulse as Shiva sings of the hidden forces behind modern life.. “Obey, conform, breed consume”.. This is like the Moody Blues dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty first century. Jennifer Jones (Shiva’s wife) is in there adding subliminal vocals just to further scramble yr brain.

Ah! The sea, with a gentle crash of waves here we are in the tropical warmth, and Shiva’s voice sounds uncannily like his younger self. This is a beautiful track and is a glimpse of what the modern Quintessence would have sounded like. Just that word “Freeeeeeeee” awakens all sorts of hippie associations. An album highlight, perfect hallucinogenic summer music. Rhymning “manatee” with “humanity” takes some nerve, too!

Disc One closes with yet another biting satire on tinseltown Swamis. We end with a mock TV show, bursts of applause, as the earth crumbles.. Yoga chicks to the fore.

Giants

According to the album notes, this is one of those songs originally intended for Quintessence, so you have to take a leap of the imagination to imagine the band at work. Actually this is a good recreation of the Quintessence sound, including a few Jake drum rolls. “It shines in you, and it shines in me, yeah”, pure Quintessence..

Not the easiest tracks, this, an interpretation of the famous words of the Catholic Rosary. You can, however, imagine Quintessence setting to work on it. As with other of the so-called “Christian” chants from the Q stable, this is not entirely as it seems, as it transforms into an equally famous Hindu chant. No conflict, of course in Hindu terms to link Mother Mary to Lakshmi, Durga and Saraswati as different faces of the devi, but I could see a few Christians look distinctly uncomfortable.

Improving on perfection is impossible, and the original Q version on “Self” cannot be bettered. This version is pretty faithful to the original, with the addition of some bird noises at the start and a subdued backing. Shiva does a good job singing it, but as I said.. it’s still a beautiful song. Smooth as silk.

Back to chanting, with a good version of this Q staple. Rudra provides some clever, thoughtful backing. And I guess it is Maha Dev’s rhymn guitar up in the mix. The chant then morphs into Hari Narayana.