Traversing the world’s ignored, forgotten and misplaced hard rock bands from the ‘60s and ‘70s reveals how much trash there was sitting around. I can’t even comprehend how all of these guys knew enough bass players and drummers to get this all together. Despite that, occasionally stumbling upon anything that possesses a bit of promise ends up being the highlight of my LCD lit day and night. Having to venture to Sweden, though, seems like a long haul to figure out what’s what with a band called Krokodil.

Made up of Hardy Hepp (violin, piano, vocals), Walty Anselmo (sitar, lead guitar), Düde Dürst (drums) with Mojo Weideli (harmonica, flute, percussion) and Terry Stevens (bass), Krokodil wasn’t really any one thing, which presented its label, UA, some problems. The hip business men were inclined to dispense the discs that Krokodil churned out as an extension of the krautrock scene based upon the Germanic background of its players – although Stevens was a Britisher. Finding that krautrock wasn’t set to be the next big thing, UA rethought all of this and worked to set up the band as a Swiss version of the Groundhogs. That posturing made a bit of sense – each group was doused with a pretty strong blues background. But the more experimental leanings of Krokodil made any sort of marketing campaign a difficult thing.

The group released five proper full lengths over a span of about that many years. A self titled effort, though, would be the group’s first release And while not giving in to the eventual world music inclinations, the disc grants a decent perspective on where Krokodil’s musical influences lay as well as what the group was poised to do. On basically every tune, the group inserted a pretty distinct blues presence. The inclusion of the harmonica probably functions to exacerbate that a little, but even on the eastern tinged “You’re Still a Part of Me” that pervasive blues progression and its little vamp is omnipresent amidst the wash of sitar runs. What makes that song particularly notable, in addition to its borrowing from Indian culture, is the fact that the lead guitar takes on a jazzy tone and remains a background consideration for much of the track. Pointing towards the future, Krokodil here makes good use of acoustic instruments, while still maintaining a relatively electric and aggressive tone. John Mayall could probably handle an adroit cover, if that’s any further indication of what this music actually is.

So while Krokodil still chose, on this album at least, to remain buddy-buddy with Western rock music, soon it would incorporate more and more odd gesticulations not necessarily bent on ostracizing a square audience, but doing so only accidently. And as this aural shift continued over the next two discs, Krokodil eventually found itself in the company of a different imprint to release its Getting Up For The Morning. Moving over to Bacillus – which also released a few discs from Nektar – Krokodil would put out a few more full lengths before calling it a day. However, the group is still widely admired at home even if it hasn’t quite reached an international audience. The re-releases’ll probably help a bit…