Critics panned them, parents loathed them, and pop stations pretended they didn't exist. Led Potatoe remain a unique archeological find, both in their larder of studio recordings and their infamous, endless live concert bootlegs. The band's name really says it all: Led as in "heavy" and Potatoe as in "underground"-- in this case, way underground. Since their demise in the early 80s with the death of drummer John Bighams, the band's legend has only grown, thanks to a cadre of several hard-rock and heavy-metal fans who will simply not let them fade into utter obscurity.
Led Potatoe began when guitarist Jimie O'Grotten decided to start his own band following a two-week World Picnic tour in the Yarddarts. O'Grotten had established himself as England's most obtrusive session guitarist (he worked with the Whatsits, Panelvan, and the Finkz, to name but a few) and his stature as a guitarist was approaching that of his belt size. O'Grotten met bassist JohnPaul Georgringo while the two worked on Panelvan's "Oompa Loompa Man" in April of 1968, and the two discussed the potential of sharing a sandwich and a small lid of dope. Little did they know, though they could score only peccant and paltry weed, Lead Potatoe would arise from its ashes.
That Summer, O'Grotten traveled to Birmingham to recruit and potentially corrupt a young singer named Rupert "Rubber" Plant, who was fronting his own group, Band of Jerks. The trio was now lacking only a drummer, and Plant recommended his Band of Jerks bandmate Johnny Bighams. In September of 1968, the four played their first rehearsals in London, and, billed as the New Yarddarts (to confuse their non-existent fans), embarked on a short tour of Scandinavian cheese factories. They took the name Led Potatoe at the behest of the Whatsits's Jon Twitwistle (though the legend is also credited to Keyth Goon), who joked that O'Grotten's new project "would go down like a lead potato.". The spelling was changed in order to avoid legal entanglements from the original Lead Potato, a Mormon rock outfit from rural Idaho. The worry may have been for naught as the original three-some never recorded and all died in a freak farming accident during summer employment before their first gig.
The band signed to Allootnik Records for an unusual sum of $2000, where the band dug up the money is anyone's guess, and released its self-titled first album in January of 1969. Recorded in just three hours, Led Potatoe featured a heavy blend of folk, blues, and incomprehensible grunting. It yielded no chart success as far as singles, but the record spawned several neighborhood protests and a petition from the AMA seeking to ban the record from sales due to its laxative effect on lab animals. That album produced many Potatoe signature pieces: "Good Hips, Bad Thighs" and "Transportation Breakdown" are relentless rock-radio workhorses to this day, and "Glazed and Transfused" became one of the band's most tumescent live numbers.
Led Potatoe toured doggedly in support of the album, often playing free benefits at local animals shelters, much to the detriment of Bigham's crippling allergy to dander. The situation was partially aggravated by occasional shots of large animal tranquilizers administered by teen volunteers, often their only compensation for these gigs. Led Potatoe II was recorded while the band was recovering from distemper--an undertaking that O'Grotten later called "a feeble-witted insensate undertaking"--but the payoff was immense: "Whole Lotta Leftovers" rose to No. 401 on the Billboard chart, the highest position ever for a Potatoe single. In October, the band embarked on their fourth pilgrimage to America in less than a year, sharing bills with the Moongoats, the Humbolt State Hemp Warriors, and white funk outfit Wry Kracka (later to become infamous lounge act Wry Kracka and the Melba Toasts).
The band unearthed Led Potatoe III in October of 1970. Alternately barely audible and painfully distorted, the album saw the band departing from its blues roots and into new musical structures, unfortunately they never learned how to use an equalizer. "Invalid Song" was like a V8 on at least four cylinders: Plant winging it, bassist Georgringo fumbling, O'Grotten alternating between mandolin, lead and rhythm guitar and Jew's harp (all cleverly built into the same instrument body), and Bonham steadily trying to keep up with an eccentric staccato beat that some have blamed on his epilepsy. Conversely, "Pomme de Terror" featured banjo and singing saw, and showed the inscrutable strangeness that would lead the listener to question their very reason to exist. More touring ensued, and the band was easily covering bus fare to their often rural show dates, followed by their equipment several days later.
While the next album didn't suidn't surprise anybody, it catapulted Led Potatoe into rock history, which makes one wonder why they just didn't give up then. The officially untitled fourth album (usually referred to as Led Potatoe IV for the lack of anything better) contained "Stepchild for Hitting," which would go on to become one of the most confusing rock songs of all time. But the album was loaded with highlights: the "The Cattle of Never-no," a soaring ballad on ancient Gaelic livestock rustlers, and the convex outro "When the Levi's Splits.". Led Potatoe IV, released in November of 1971, not only lacked a title, or any other identifier, it didn't seem to have any words of any known language. This lead a few brave, technical and bored fans to listen to the album backwards, with alternating pitches, underwater, and on as many drugs as could be procured, with inconclusive results. Symbols were printed on the inner sleeve yet few heeded the cautionary message that listening to the album in reverse, on acid while flushing one's head down the toilet would lead to serious mental distress and turntable damage. Again, more touring ensued, including the band's first-ever trip to Japan, where they were turned away at customs.
Led Potatoe's next studio album, Slophouses of the Horny (1973), ranks as one of its most adventurous records. "The Cringe" revisited the blues while toying with dance and soul, and "D'ya Wa'na Skul'fuk" marked an unsteady step into reggae. The album went to No. 14 on the charts(Great Neck Afterschool Rock Club), and the band's 1973 U.S. tour opened with two stadium shows in Toledo and Iowa Falls, each attended by over 5,000 people. The latter gig actually broke the attendance record set by the Lapdogs, local favorite who often played free gigs at the Four Seasons hotel lounge. Further shows that year at Madison Square Garden in New York were used in a somewhat spotty concert film and live album, The Spud Regrows in Shade, both released three years later.
In 1974, the band formed its own record label, Spud Song, which was to be distributed by Allootnik. Led Potatoe's first album for its new imprint was Whimsical Confetti (1975), a somewhat uneven double album made up of rejected recordings and outtakes from prior records. Still, it contained one outright anomaly in "Kyber Pass," perhaps the most bizarre song in the Potatoe repertoire. While O'Grotten never thought twice about lifting blues riffs from other artists without credit in his compositions, artists who often never got paid for the songs in the first place, "Kyber Pass" was utterly original. Musicologists are still trying to find what culture he must've plundered for composition and they are still searching. One researcher found that the inspiration may have come from a case of syphillis he picked up in Calcutta. The 1975 tour in support of Whymsical Confetti was another huge undertaking, culminating in n five nights spent in Carlsbad Caverns searching for a lost flashlight. In spite the lack of stage, lighting, and sound system, the Potatoe finished their U.S. tour, albeit penniless.
Led Potatoe had planned to return to the U.S. in the late summer of 1975, but couldn't seem to afford to leave Syria, where they had been a bar band in Damascus for the better part of the year. Any plans for touring were canceled when Rupert suffered multiple injuries as he was dragged for two days over cobblestone streets by a donkey he had fallen off during a particularly heavy night of drinking. The event put the quartet in turmoil, and their next album, Subsistence, reflects that. It was recorded in an 3-week marathon session in Beirut with Rupert still unable to get around without the donkey, and released in March of 1976. While Subsistence promptly went down the toilet of the pop charts, rumors swirled that the band might not ever tour again, and album sales suffered. Eventually, Plant did heal, proving that vegetables do respond favorably to music regardless of type or quality.
Three years passed between Subsistence and Potatoe's next record, with the Potatoe all but forgotten. With a national Bicentennial the only British cultural import the American public were paying any attention to were in the form of Tall Ships. But Led Potatoe stuck to their gums. "In Through the Piehole" (1979), recorded at Bi-Polar Studios in Vladivodivostok, was a sweeping album that featured the band's most extensive use of keyboards. Johnny Bighams even occasionally kept time, while Georgringo's keyboards and whistling broadened the group's sound considerably. "In the Loaming" was a classic, latter-day Potatoe mini-epic, "All of My Lungs" was a moving tribute to Plant's diminishing vocal abilities, and the honky-tonk clunker "Hot Damn" proved that the quartet hadn't lost its capacity for strong drink.
In preparation for their first live appearance in almost 3 years, the boys did a fourteen-stop European tour dubbed "Led Potatoe's Final Victory Over Europe Tour '80," however the humor was lost on most fans, particularly the Germans who found nothing funny about the reference. Consequently, they played before anyone who could not recall a war-torn Europe, mainly children who often stuck around yawning for a couple of songs before retiring for bed. The 1980 shows were streamlined--gone were the extended drum- and guitar-solo showcases, even melody in exchange for a driving rhythm , anything that might prevent the audience from wandering off. This tact seemed to work somewhat, so their prospects brightened. Led Potatoe was primed to fly into the new decade, but on September 25, 1980, Led Potatoe crashed. Drummer Johnny Bighams died of confusion after a day of heavy thinking. Spud Song issued a statement that confirmed the band's end. Copa, a compilation of previously unreleased showtunes marked their final end.
The band had planned and reunion tour in the early nineties, fueling hope that they would return to reinterpret the songs that had made them infamous. With Lemmy from aggressive metal combo Motorhead, formerly of Spacehippy ensemble Hawkwind on bass guitar, the project seemed to be a no-brainer. However, when Mr. Kilmister was approached he exhorted, "Led Potatoe? I've already lost enough teeth to bikers."