Gammer by Gammer: A Rock Gem from 1979 That Still Hits Different
Let’s get one thing straight—this album ain’t perfect. But man, does it have soul. Released in 1979 under their own label (yeah, they went indie before indie was even a thing), Gammer is the kind of record that feels like an old friend who shows up unannounced but somehow makes your day better anyway. It’s raw, unpolished, and full of heart—a real snapshot of UK rock at its most honest.
The credits alone are worth geeking out over. You’ve got Vini Reilly tickling the organ keys like he’s channeling some higher power, Richard Darbyshire shredding on guitar with just enough grit to keep things interesting, and Stuart Stead laying down drumbeats so solid you could build a house on ‘em. And let’s not forget Dave Mount and Phil Judge throwing in backing vocals smooth enough to make you wonder why they didn’t sing lead more often.
Now, onto the tracks. I gotta talk about “Summer’s Over” first because damn—it hits different. The opening riff grabs you by the collar and doesn’t let go. There’s something about the way the saxophone wails in the background, courtesy of Stewart Butler, that gives it this bittersweet vibe. Like, you know summer’s ending, but you’re not ready to let go yet. When those harmonies kick in halfway through, it’s like someone opened a window and let all the pent-up feelings pour out. This song sticks with me because it’s messy in the best possible way—kinda like life itself.
Then there’s “Rocket Ticket,” which is just pure fun. It’s got this driving rhythm that makes you wanna grab the nearest broomstick and pretend it’s a microphone. Andy Paval’s electric piano adds this funky edge that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. By the time the chorus rolls around, you’re hooked. It’s one of those songs where you don’t realize you’re humming it until hours later when you’re stuck in traffic or waiting in line at the grocery store. Damn catchy stuff.
But here’s the thing—what really gets me about this album is how human it feels. These guys weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel; they were just making music that mattered to them. Tracks like “You’re Alone” and “Clown” might not be chart-toppers, but they’ve got this rough-around-the-edges charm that makes you feel like you’re listening in on something private, almost sacred.
Reflecting on Gammer, I can’t help but think about how much has changed since 1979. Back then, bands put out records without worrying about algorithms or streaming numbers. They played what felt right, screw the rest. And maybe that’s why this album still resonates—it’s proof that sometimes imperfection is perfection. Oh, and also? Congas. John Slater brought congas into a rock album. How cool is that?
So yeah, if you’re looking for polished production and radio-friendly hits, this probably ain’t your jam. But if you want music that feels alive—if you want songs that remind you what it means to be human—then give Gammer a spin. Just don’t blame me if “Summer’s Over” ends up stuck in your head for days.
