I don’t really like concept albums – well, I don’t particularly care for Tommy. I don’t know that I can readily name too many others. Bowie’s alright, but still kinda lame in a British kinda way. A group credited as being the first to recording a disc with a narrative arc, Nirvana, released The Story of Simon Simopath which isn’t really too offensive. Comprised primarily of the Irish singer/songwriter Patrick Campbell-Lyons and Greek guitarist Alex Spyropoulos, Nirvana convinced Chris Blackwell, founder of Island Records, to release this short spell of song-craft focused on the various attempts of Simon to fly. It’s interesting that Blackwell decided to release the disc. And while Island may have worked with some British rock acts, Nirvana represents the very least commercially successful foray into the genre. The disc could, in some ways, be considered an influence on latter day prog efforts, considering the instrumentation here, but Nirvana’s whole is really not too much more the than the Beatles with a storyline.

With that tripped out cover, it’s pretty easy to understand why folks have been drawn to the disc over time – Simon Simopath today is afforded a great deal of respect despite its lukewarm reception upon its release a full year prior to Tommy or Arthur from the Kinks. The problems that I personally have with those latter releases stem from the lack of muscularity displayed from a few bands that could actually be aggressive. Nirvana, on the other hand, were simply a duo who hired some orchestral players to flesh out the hired guns that they had as a rhythm section. Retaining these players, though, enabled the band to perform live and on television – even once sharing the stage with Salvador Dali as he splashed black paint on the ensemble mid-song.

The interesting history surrounding the band – and the fact that its third album would eventually be rejected by Blackwell, prompting the group to release the disc through Pye – belies the music, though. It’s surely well conceived and composed. But much like those aforementioned concept discs, Nirvana goes into a realm of psych armed with only the slightest bit of fervent playing. “Take this Hand” might be the closest thing to a swelling section of music that Simon Simopath possesses. And even in that, the majority of the track is slowly sung and plucked until the brief chorus forces the supplemental players to get a bit aggressive.

So instead of looking/listening for the psych freak-outs here from Nirvana, the playful numbers are the ones that succeed most easily. “1999” apes some barrelhouse style and rollicks through a few verses of congratulatory barroom lyrics. It’s a celebratory track that fits within the broad narrative – and kinda comes off like a Kinks track from the early ‘70s.

It can’t be said that Simon Simopath is a disappointment, but it didn’t make the band stars while still marking its most concerted effort to top the charts. The band’s first single from its following album – “Rainbow Chaser” – might have done some brisk business, but nothing from Nirvana would again be so coherent and dedicated to a singular vision.