HAMMOND

Hammond, Hammond in the air. Hammond every bloody where! Hammond Goes Bossa. Hammond Goes Pop. Hammond Goes Country. What next? Hammond Goes Punk? Hammond Goes to Outer Space? I wish, and hopefully never to return. Where ever you went in the sixties and seventies it seems the Hammond was the in-instrument. Versatile, easy to play, capable of adapting to any genre, and could play almost anything. At least that's what everyone in the business thought. Unfortunately, anyone with real ears knew instinctively that the mighty Hammond could never take on the real instruments and win. It was always going to be fighting a losing battle, but that didn't stop them unleashing it on the world and damaging precious memories of fond, heartfelt songs, damaging them in such a way as to almost be irreparable. For who cannot recall hearing Bacharach's or Lennon & McCartney's hits without comparing it with a Hammond variation?

Launched in the year 1939 and touted as an organ with an infinite number of possible sounds and tones, the Hammond is still with us today, taking on the mighty Moogs and other  synthesisers in an attempt to keep abreast of technological developments. Now slimmed down and not encased in a cumbersome cabinet, the Hammond even looks respectable. Even so, there's no getting away from the dreadful artificial sound that could be heard on Anglia's Sale of the Century whenever the prizes were being rolled out. Indeed, that was the sound that defined the tackiness of the early seventies. And just look how they have over the years tried to sex it up by featuring glamorous ladies on the covers who wouldn't be seen dead near one of these things. No, it was something granddad kept in his back room when he had a bit of spare time to play with his organ (no puns, please). But the girls! Wild, vivacious girls. Girls who pose and pout, like on the cover of Hammond Fever and Hammond Hit Parade volume 10. Girls draped in near-see-through wet tops in a provocative manner on an album cover imaginatively entitled Provocative Hammond. The Hammond was tres cool, a fun machine that couples could play and dance along to. Didn't you ever go to a Hammond party? No? Me neither. Wow, I bet they were fun. I wish I could have experienced one of those for myself. Just imagine it, before there was such a thing as Karaoke everybody used to hang around a Hammond and dig its vibe, merrily singing along to Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head and wished they could play as well as Ena Begg (who?).

One of the best covers has to be How Lucky You Are. It is part of a series, including Games Lovers Play, What Now My Love, and one more I have yet to find, again with the same girl showing plenty of breast. Astonishing—for its time. And, as if to emphasise how sexy the Hammond was, or not, there were two albums entitled Sexy Hammond, both volumes presented here.

RIP Laurens Hammond who died at the ripe old age of 78 in 1973—having ruined many a good ear. For those with a bent for all things mechanical like the Hammond, visit the informative Hammond website at www.hammond-org.com.

Finally, the best prize, however, has to go to the cover of 32 Golden Hammond Hits. Truly out of the seventies, this magnificent slice of pop trash looks even better when seen in all of its gatefold glory. See full image.

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