Brum Beat by The Mountain Kings: A Forgotten Gem from 1964
Man, if you’re into that raw, unfiltered pop-rock vibe with a beat that just grabs you by the soul, Brum Beat by The Mountain Kings is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released way back in ‘64 under Decca in Spain, it’s not perfect—heck, it’s kinda rough around the edges—but there’s something about it that sticks. Like an old friend who tells bad jokes but still makes you laugh.
Let me tell ya, this album has its moments. Two tracks hit me hard right off the bat: “There’ll Be Times” and “Can’t You See.” They’re simple songs, sure, but they’ve got heart.
“There’ll Be Times” feels like a warm hug after a cold day. It starts slow, almost shy, then builds into this catchy rhythm that gets stuck in your head for hours. I don’t know what it is—the melody? The lyrics? Maybe both—but every time I hear it, I’m transported back to lazy summer afternoons where nothing mattered except the music playing in the background. It’s not groundbreaking or anything, but damn, does it feel real.
And then there’s “Can’t You See,” which punches you right in the gut emotionally. That opening riff alone screams desperation, like someone begging for understanding. When the vocals kick in, it’s pure ache. There’s no fancy production tricks here, just raw emotion laid bare. It reminds me of late-night conversations where everything spills out because holding it in hurts too much. Honestly, it’s the kind of song that makes you wanna call up an old flame just to say sorry—or maybe thank them.
The rest of the album isn’t as memorable, though tracks like “Don’t You Know” and “You Left Me Alone” keep the energy alive. But let’s be honest, Brum Beat doesn’t reinvent the wheel—it’s more like a snapshot of its time. A little messy, a lot heartfelt, and totally unapologetic about it.
Here’s the thing: listening to this record feels like finding a dusty photo album in your grandparents’ attic. It’s nostalgic without trying too hard, imperfect yet charming. And yeah, maybe it won’t blow your mind like some modern stuff, but isn’t that the beauty of it? Sometimes, all we need is honesty wrapped in three-minute pop tunes.
Oh, and get this—Spain in the ‘60s wasn’t exactly known for exporting rock ‘n’ roll legends, so The Mountain Kings were probably just a bunch of dudes chasing a dream in a place where dreams didn’t always fit. Makes you wonder how many other hidden treasures are out there waiting to be rediscovered. So next time you stumble across Brum Beat, give it a spin. Who knows? You might fall in love with its scrappy charm, just like I did.
