When it comes to rare vinyl, there are lost gems, and then there are tragic lost gems. As the first release for Chicago’s Wooden Nickel label (distributed by RCA), String Cheese would definitely fall into the latter category.
The lack of commercial success for some recordings simply defies explanation, but Wooden Nickel was one of those labels that seemed to be truly hexed, despite publishing some of the more interesting albums of the 1970s, including releases by Exile, Siegel-Schwall Band, and most notably, the first 4 pieces of wax by Styx. When Styx signed with A&M in 1975, Wooden Nickel’s fate was sealed.
You know what they say about wooden nickels….
On first listen, String Cheese bares an incredible resemblence to the cultish San-Fran psych-folk outfit, “It’s a Beautiful Day”. Both bands have hopeful lyrics carried by angelic voices soaring over lush arrangements and spacious rhythms. In a word: magical.
As the album progressed, I began to hear resemblences to Jefferson Airplane and their quirky forbear, The Great Society.
I can hear both Marty Balin and Grace Slick in the vocals of Sally Smaller, and I am guessing she was only beginning to develop her repertoire. Unlike her female counterparts Pattie Santos and Linda LaFlamme of It’s a Beautiful Day, Sally’s voice hints at much darker qualities. This together with the more electric approach of String Cheese means that had they survived, they may have ventured off into harder-edged musical territory.
Considering the optimism of their lyrics, and the similarities to label mates like Jefferson Airplane, it’s surprising that String Cheese didn’t move from their home base of Chicago to join the Haight-Ashbury scene in San Francisco.
The tight-knit musical community there must have appealed to Greg Bloch, and so he left String Cheese to replace David LaFlamme in It’s a Beautiful Day in 1973. Unfortunately, this move was poisoned by the fact that LaFlamme was forced out of the band he founded due to royalty issues. Other Haight bands like the Grateful Dead were experiencing similar financial problems at the time, and with the Summer of Love fading into the distance, the idealism of the 1960s was losing its momentum – even in San Francisco.
I’d be quite reluctant to say that another “Summer of Love” is just around the corner, but there definitely seems to be hope that musicians are beginning to understand the importance of community again. Here in Toronto, multi-instrumental collaborations are on the rise, and musicians often play in several bands simultaneously – partially for experimentation, but also to pay the bills.
Albums like String Cheese offer up a taste of the magic that is possible for those who are committed to their craft.
The open rhythm of Louis Constantino on bass guitar and John Maggi on drums lays a basic foundation for the lush melodies of Bloch, Smaller, Larry Wendelken (vocals, 12-string guitar), and the sea of instruments played by William Dalton: organ, piano, celeste, electric guitar, harpsichord, keyboards, sitar (acoustic and electric), classical guitar, and orator.
What happened to the rest of String Cheese remains a mystery. Bloch went on to play with Mark-Almond (John Mayall’s former rhythm section), but the rest of the band appears to have just drifted into total obscurity. If you have any details, please feel free to post them as comments.
Review below by Alan Ranta for Tiny Mixed Tapes:
After their 1971 debut album failed to register a blip in the marketplace, Chicago sextet String Cheese promptly faded away. Their failure is woeful, because with proper backing and encouragement, they could have been the next It’s A Beautiful Day. Like that San Francisco band, String Cheese’s sound was steeped in sparkling hippie subject matter, strongly delivered by chanteuse Sally Smaller and aided by the electric violin of Gregory Bloch. Unfortunately, their debut album was also their last.
12-string guitarist and co-vocalist Lawrence W. Wendelken wrote most of the songs on String Cheese, and there are some truly tasteful arrangements contained within. “Soul Of Man,” for example, benefits from lush, live strings over folksy acoustic guitar picking and sparse drums, while a Larry and Sally duet muses on the winding road that is the human experience. Meanwhile, the harpsichord-led intro to “Woke Up This Morning” (not the theme to The Sopranos) comes straight out of a renaissance court, progressing to a summery, psychedelic electric sitar jam with lyricism glowing in sunshine-induced optimism. There is some serious talent on display here.
Sure, the electric guitar and bass on String Cheese sound more late-’70s than one would hope for, and the themes are a little vague considering America’s involvement in an unjust war propelled by a criminal president, but another album or two surely would’ve worked the kinks out. C’est la vie, I suppose, and at least we have this Fallout reissue. There is nothing in the way of inflated liner notes or bonus tracks, but the new cover art is nice, the remastering has taken quite well, and it’s the first time the album has made it to CD. The tape hiss and occasional pop noise are at worst minimally invasive and at best charming. It’s doubtful you would ever find an original pressing that sounds better for less than $50, so this reissue might be your best bet. Consume this, lest ye be lactose intolerant.
Track Listing:
1) For Now
2) Crystal
3) We Share
4) Here I Am
5) Empty Streets
6) Forage
7) Soul Of Man
8) Certain Kind Of Day
9) Woke Up This Morning
10) Coming
I am the creator and site administrator at The Basement Rug. I have been collecting LP's and CD's for more than 30 years. I 
hey rugrat…
thanks for the heads up on this one. it’s a pleasant sound, but not really my taste, but i do remember seeing this around when it was first released. i recall being more intrigued by the jacket than the vinyl.
‘wooden nickel’ was an odd, but interesting little label. kind of similar to ‘tumbleweed’ out of denver. some great talent, but very little promotion. i also remember dropping in on a show at some little coffeehouse in ann arbor, michigan where i saw a marquee placard announcing “wooden nickel recording artist, mo mcguire.” admission was only a buck fifty or something. this was back in the old days of course. anyway, based on the wooden nickel connection, i laid down my greenbacks expecting some chi-town version of tim buckley or someone (don’t ask me why, i can’t explain that one), but instead i found this busty, curly haired redhead with a guitar, piano, and a lot of soul. she was delightful. as with string cheese though, i don’t know what became of her either.