The pedigree of the Artwoods is as impressive as any other underappreciated ‘60s beat combo – the Pretty Things or otherwise. Fronted by the eldest brother of Ronnie Wood, Art Wood – yes the band’s name is clever – wrangled a clutch of British blues and RnB players to go in over a spate of covers that drew specifically from American soul music. That aspect doesn’t make the Artwoods unique in the least and it could be argued that the Animals pulled off a similar coup to better effect. But what Art Wood and his cohort did well – in addition to just re-working some good tracks – was to inject enough soul jazz keyboard as to enliven works that could otherwise have been perceived as average fare.

Coming up at around the same time in the early ‘60s as the Stones and every other beat combo worth a damn, there wasn’t a great deal to separate group from group. Apparently, though, the Artwoods put on a strong enough live show to endear a sizable following to their sound. The group released a few singles over the early years of its existence and after the relative success of the Jazz in Jeans EP, the band was granted the opportunity to head into the studio to record their lone, self titled album.

Art Gallery, despite its furthering of that clever play on words, included more of the same stylized interpretations that the Artwoods’ singles held. Released in ’66, just a few months after Jazz in Jeans, the group’s opportunity to record seemed to be based more on its live acumen than its ability to sell a slab or two on the open market. But for not having reached the same sort of acclaim as other groups trafficking in the same sounds, that album – and it’s subsequent repackaging and reissues – possesses a good deal of fuzz on top of the pervasive soul and RnB grooves.

The Artwoods’ and its live raunch might not have translated to the studio on every track, but on a number of the group’s offerings it seems to have slunk through. The organ solo on “Don’t Cry No More” and the subsequent break down probably couldn’t have been achieved by too many other groups at the time. Of course due to the band’s set up and the fact that Art Wood seemingly fancied himself a soul shouter makes this all sound a bit like the Animals. But whereas that latter group featured a folksy influenced as evidenced by its song selections, the Artwoods settled on Solomon Burke instead of Leadbelly.

A number of Brit combos at the time relied heavily on covers from American acts, but the Artwoods lone disc is comprised completely of other people’s compositions, which, obviously, contributed to the group being dismissed in some arenas. That notwithstanding, the combo avidly presents each interpretation with a fervor not oft found elsewhere in Brit RnB. “Sweet Mary” and it’s fuzzy guitar solo might not have blown up on the charts, but perhaps it should have. And even if each contributor here went onto some other musical pursuit – including Deep Purple – the work that the Artwoods produced shouldn’t be relegated to second tier status.