During the mid-’80s, pioneering UK punks The Damned were entrenched in their heavy goth phase, playing a whimsical blend of spooky pop-punk. At this point, the band’s fortunes had fallen on hard times as they’d lost key members, dealt with label issues, and were largely seen as yesterday’s news. But soon, something inexplicable happened. In tandem with the new album Phantasmagoria in 1985, they also released the single, “Eloise,” which would go on to be the band’s most successful single to date. Rejuvenating the fledgling punk band’s fortunes, this turnaround was nothing short of extraordinary. And perhaps the main factor was the band’s inspired interpretation of the wondrous 1968 single, which had on its own, already become a part of Britain’s cultural zeitgeist. While The Damned’s take on the complex pop tune was phenomenal, even it didn’t quite match up to the original, sung by idiosyncratic psych-pop crooner Barry Ryan.
For the unfamiliar, Barry Ryan was a singer and songwriter who grew up in post-war Britain along with his twin brother Paul. Together, the teenage Ryan Brothers would score a record deal and put out a few moderately successful pop ballads in the UK. But soon, all of Europe and other parts would get to know the Ryans, especially lead singer Barry.
By 1968, Paul had transitioned away from the spotlight and instead now focused exclusively on songwriting and producing, penning songs specifically for his brother, especially given Barry’s extensive range and stirring delivery. At the time, there was a bit of a trend happening in the UK centered around crooning pop singers backed by elaborate musical arrangements. From the sappy (Tom Jones) to the avant-garde (Scott Walker), it was a niche that somehow fit alongside bands such as the Beatles and The Who that were stretching the boundaries of conventional pop and rock ‘n’ roll. Barry Ryan’s musical style predominantly fell within the pop realm, with a strong emphasis on high drama and orchestrated arrangements, courtesy of his brother. What sealed the deal was his emotive vocal delivery and lush, theatrical arrangements.
Released in 1968, the single “Eloise” would elevate the Ryans beyond all expectations. Standing at almost six minutes in length, this uncanny and unlikely international pop hit was the duo’s crowning achievement. At just 20 years old, the two crafted a unique, complex, and impossibly infectious piece of symphonic pop. Barry Ryan’s heavy, yearning vocals are juxtaposed against a backdrop of swirling brass and string flourishes, haunting gospel-like background vocals, a pounding piano riff, and an unexpected breakdown that dabbles in psychedelia. It’s a ghoulishly baroque affair that I’m sure no one expected to be a major hit, yet, the public got it right in this instance. And it also proved to be an unstoppable partnership with Paul writing and producing and Barry belting it out with purpose.
Technically speaking, it was a masterful recording and featured two session players destined for their own superstar tract in the form of future Led Zeppelin merchants Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones. On top of that, it’s also been widely reported that Queen’s Freddie Mercury used “Eloise” as a key example to help convince his record label of the viability of recording the also lengthy and complex “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Partnering with his brother, Barry would put out several albums under his own name for the Polydor label, all of which were recently collected in the new box set, The Albums 1969-1979 (Cherry Red). The 5-disc set features albums Barry Ryan Sings Paul Ryan (1969) , featuring the aforementioned single “Eloise,” Barry Ryan (1969), Barry Ryan 3 (1970), Red Man (1971), and Sanctus, Sanctus Hallelujah (1972), plus other goodies.
The first two albums are pretty consistent with the brothers exploring various facets of somewhat unconventional, melodramatic pop territory. While nothing matches the majesty and heaviness of “Eloise,” there are some standouts as in “The Hunt” with its twisted vaudevillian romp and the foreboding Latin chants of the dystopian “Theme to Eutopia,” which sounds like something Ghost might release today.
Interestingly, Ryan briefly dabbled in the burgeoning heavy metal scene on 1972’s Sanctus, Sanctus Hallelujah with two tracks that borrowed heavily from the new scene. “Storm is Brewing” is a cross between Deep Purple and Black Sabbath, with a heavy riff and contrasting organ bits. “Slow Down” is practically a dead ringer for Sabbath’s “Paranoid,” in its eerily similar main riff and driving pace. While neither rises to the level of proto-metal classics, both showcase the depth and range of Ryan’s otherworldly vocal ability.
Besides the five original albums, the set also comes with two bonus discs of rarities, including a rare Italian version of “Eloise” as well as some odds and ends released in the mid-to-late ‘70s, some of which nods to the stomping glam sounds of the day. The set also includes an insightful booklet detailing Ryan’s rise and fadeout, before he retired from music to become a globally renowned photographer.
Barry Ryan passed away from lung complications in 2021 at the age of 72. He leaves behind a prolific catalog of recordings and photography. And while he never quite cut through on a major level or stirred the critical analysis of contemporaries such as Scott Walker, he was no less a presence to be reckoned with.
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