The small, remote town I lived in during my last two years of high school had a single locally-produced radio station which played what would probably now be called Adult Contemporary. One of its two deejays called himself Rockin’ Ross. The music did not especially rock, nor did Ross, who I knew a little, and was a nice guy, but left his radio career after not-so-many years and went on to sell Amway and become a postal carrier. Ross just never struck me as a rockin’ name. Ruby, however, could reasonably be assumed to be a rocker. Take note: Pick your child’s names based in part on if you wish them to rock or not.
I found this album by unknown-to-me band Ross on a cold, wet day in one of the bargain crates – CLEARANCE – at the wonderful Rockin’ Ruby’s Records in Poulsbo. (There’s a Bainbridge location, too). Originally, this was priced at $12 (well over our self-imposed $10 bargain limit) but it was marked 50% off, which brought it below the threshold for this column. The band’s name (or at first it could’ve been the album title, as “Ross” was the only word on the album title) did not call out to me for a lasting relationship, harkening back maybe to the aforementioned Ross, or a bad-weird kid of the same name I knew in elementary school.
But the cover, good lord what a cover! Worth the money right there, even if it might prove to be less rockin’ than unreasonably hoped for. And, there kinda was less.
It ain’t no disco. It also ain’t no punk or other splinterings that came just a few years later. It also ain’t one of its contemporaries (recorded in 1974 the back cover tells me) like prog or glam rock. Not bad, but very mid-early 70s generic rock, appropriate for background music in a movie where maybe the teenagers would’ve been discussing Watergate and waiting in line to see Jaws. I see that all songs were written and composed by Alan Ross, who I’m surmising is the band’s namesake. (Alan was already scheduled to be used in the Parsons Project, perhaps it was foretold?) Again, not at all bad, just nothing that after listening once made me want to go back for more.
Your mileage may vary.
The magic of the bargain crate find, speaking silently from its inexpensive lodging, is of course that the recorded music may be of almost no importance to the album’s actual value.
This cover was – is – just amazing. Wall-hanging worthy, and as mentioned, indeed worth the $6. Like a still from Terry Gilliam interlude in The Holy Grail. Which probably should be what those teenagers were waiting in line for, discussing Watergate and smoking Luckys and comparing how ruffly and wide-collared their junior prom tuxedos were soon to be, while the innocuous and timely sounds of Ross playing in a mono speaker from someone’s window across the street. Hopefully at least one of their dates was named Ruby. // J. OVERTON
