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Traffic: Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Island Records
Released: 1973.01.20
Time:
 37:25
Category: Pop/Rock
Producer(s): Steve Winwood, Jim Capaldi
Rating: *******... (7/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: stevewinwood.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2008.08.29
Price in €: 5,01



 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory (J.Capaldi/S.Winwood) - 6:05
[2] Roll Right Stones (J.Capaldi/S.Winwood) - 11:46
[3] Evening Blue (J.Capaldi/S.Winwood) - 5:19
[4] Tragic Magic (Ch.Wood) - 6:43
[5] [Sometimes I Feel So] Uninspired (J.Capaldi/S.Winwood) - 7:19
 

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


Steve Winwood - Guitar, Keyboards, Vocals, Producer
Jim Capaldi - Drums, Keyboards, Vocals, Producer
Chris Wood - Wind
Roger Hawkins - Drums
David Hood - Bass
Barry Beckett - Keyboards
Rebop Kwaku Baah - Conductor, Percussion
Jimmy Johnson - Clarinet

Jerry Masters - Engineer
Steve Melton - Engineer
Jeff Willens - Mastering Engineer
Tommy Wright III - Photography
Tony Wright - Illustrations

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s

1973 LP Island SW-9323
1988 CD Island 7900272
1988 CD Universal Japan 9276
1996 CD Mobile Fidelity 669
2001 LP Island 422-842781-1
2001 CS Island 422-842781-4
2001 CD Island 422-842781-2
2003 CD Island 842781

SHOOT OUT AT THE FANTASY FACTORY is the second of Traffic's expanded line-up studio albums, following 1971's THE LOW SPARK OF HIGH-HEELED BOYS. These five extended pieces present frontman Steve Winwood in a pleasingly soulful light. The music ...    Full Descriptionhere has little in common with the pastoral psychedelic folk-pop of Traffic's first four albums, betraying instead Winwood's roots in the Spenser Davis Group and foreshadowing his later solo success in the '80s. Traffic toured constantly before recording FANTASY FACTORY, and the album's extended grooves are clearly born of these performance experiences. The band's rhythm section was the famed Muscle Shoals Studio bass and drums team of David Hood and Roger Hawkins. But the character of the songs does not depend solely on rhythm. This material is highly inventive and memorably melodic. Throughout, Chris Wood's saxophone and flute are a supple foil to Winwood's voice, dancing in and around the mighty rhythms.

SHOOT OUT AT THE FANTASY FACTORY is the second of Traffic's expanded line-up studio albums, following 1971's THE LOW SPARK OF HIGH-HEELED BOYS. The five extended pieces here have little in common with the pastoral, psychedelic folk-pop of Traffic's first four albums, betraying instead Steve Winwood's roots in the Spenser Davis Group and foreshadowing his later solo success in the '80s. Traffic toured constantly before recording FANTASY FACTORY, and the album's extended grooves are clearly born of these performance experiences. The band's rhythm section was the famed Muscle Shoals Studio bass and drums team of David Hood and Roger Hawkins. But the character of the songs does not depend solely on rhythm. This material is highly inventive and memorably melodic, showcasing Winwood's passionately soulful singing. Throughout, Chris Wood's saxophone and flute are a supple foil to Winwood's voice. FANTASY FACTORY--along with the live albums of the same era--effectively represents this expanded incarnation of Traffic and the jazz-influenced, extended jam format they were focusing on at the time.

Recorded at Strawberry Hill Studios, Jamaica.



Ansteckend munter, aber nicht in Topform tummelten sich Traffic '76 auf "Shoot Out At The Fantasy Factory". Die Rock-Jazz-Folk-Rezeptur gibt sich betont groovy, eher Session- als Song-orientiert - und tönt erstaunlich klar. ** Klang: 03-04

© Audio



After two exemplary releases, Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory marked a fall-off in quality for Traffic. The problems lay in both composition and performance. Beginning with the title track, based on a guitar riff reminiscent of the recent Deep Purple hit "Smoke on the Water," and continuing through the lengthy "Roll Right Stones," the folkish ballad "Evening Blue," reed player Chris Wood's instrumental "Tragic Magic," and the uncertain self-help song "(Sometimes I Feel So) Uninspired," the material was far from the group's best. Lyricist Jim Capaldi was co-credited with Steve Winwood as the album's producer, and he may have contributed to the cleaner mix that made his words easier to understand. Easier, that is, in the technical sense, since the musing about a sort of minor-league Stonehenge "Roll Right Stones" didn't do much with the image, and, though it struggled for a more positive outlook, "(Sometimes I Feel So) Uninspired" seemed to come out on the side of despair. Winwood's music seemed to recycle his own ideas when it didn't borrow from others. Meanwhile, the rhythm section had been replaced by Muscle Shoals studio aces David Hood and Roger Hawkins, who proved proficient but not as kinetic as their predecessors, so that the playing often seemed mechanical. Capaldi sang no songs here, and Wood's flute and saxophone, so often the flavoring of Traffic songs, were largely absent. What was left was a competent, if perfunctory effort in the band's familiar style. They had built up enough of a following through touring that the album was a commercial success, but it sounds like an imitation of earlier triumphs.

William Ruhlmann - All Music Guide



Shootout at the Fantasy Factory does not amount to the all-out, knock-down space trip that the title intimates. Rather it embodies the inconsistencies that beset the band as well as the high points that have kept Traffic moving. Shootout doesn't surprise or stun you, nor does it leave you empty. The title song itself, leading off side one, is an example of the ambivalence. It's a medium rocker, lit by Kwaku Baah's conga rhythm and Winwood's efficient guitar solo. It's always good to hear Winwood sing, although his vocal here is barely distinguishable—it's the old maxim that you leave a lot to the listener's imagination if you let him guess at the words, it adds to the fantasm. But it's almost as if the song has no beginning, middle or end though Winwood's production has everything even-tempered throughout: the sound is too uniform, too unruffled.

"Roll Right Stones" is another myth tune. The lyrics don't really tell you anything literally; Winwood lets you make inferences by yourself. He does sing, though, that "death awaits, with pearly gates, for those who have been mesmerized." Strangely enough, the song itself is mesmerizing. The chorus breaks loose from the staid rhythm, there's a plateau of piano, organ and sax that's fine, but then it's back to teasing, though with finesse. Winwood's vocal is fine—if you didn't know that he's capable of cooking while here he's only kindling. Just when things should break towards the end you're tantalized with some background fuzz guitar and one or two sax notes.

The disappointing thing is that there's no one instrument playing strongly against the rather methodical rhythm. The themes are there, but not the variations. Ronnie Hawkins and David Hood seem to disappear into the low-keyed texture. In fact, the whole first side is bridled in subtle restraint. Why sing about fantasy if you're not going to expand the motif with your playing?

Some of this problem is alleviated on side two. "Evening Blue" is a fine ballad, the kind Winwood has known his way around since "No Face, No Name, No Number" of the first album, through "Can't Find My Way Home" and "Every Mother's Son" on Barleycorn. There's a wonderful, soothing touch to this song. Chris Wood has a keen, well-phrased solo against Winwood's organ. Steve's vocal is good, again, but unnecessarily inhibited, and sometimes a bit amateurishly inflected. Winwood just doesn't stretch the way he used to. Still, the song's a pleasure because the arrangement is simple and straightforward.

Chris Wood's "Tragic Magic" follows, starting off fine, but Wood blows the chance to improvise so that the melody, otherwise well done, hurts for ideas and becomes perfunctory like the songs of side one. Still, Wood staggers the rhythm changes so that time doesn't hang on the song.

"Sometimes I Feel So Uninspired" is Winwood's direct approach to the mythical deficiency. The lyrics are depressingly sung at first, almost sighed. But then the song builds gradually, flowing right through a fine Claptonesque guitar solo, and actually turning into a happy tune. There's life here, sharp breaks, conflict, not oblique hinting. The themes are firm and strong and Winwood sings best when he's singing with a will.

It's all very soothing, not really an album you want to flip halfway through. You won't rave about it or get your mind fantastically blown, but you won't really dislike it. If, as Webster says, fantasy means free play of the creative imagination, then what we have here is a case of imagination sans free play. Perhaps because Traffic has worn out fantasy as a viable myth; perhaps the production is too placid; perhaps Mason's direction is lacking. Perhaps, as has been noted already, it's simply a matter of musical diffusion with the sound sequestered in technical subtleties, some that come across forcefully, others that do not.

JOHN ROMASCO - Mar 15, 1973
RollingStone.com
 

 L y r i c s


Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory

You rise upon a black day, coming from a mile away
And every time I hear you say, that I don't have to be this way
You sneak upon a mean moon, that casts it's shadow too soon
When the spell is in tune, your shadow slips away

Good man gets the good wife, while bad boy's cleaning up his knife
And all I got is trouble and strife to help me on my way
You're running round to nowhere, someone said it might be there
But I'm telling you beware, the hand that fights you'll feed

Investigating downtown, Sergeant Gruesome got shot down
National Guard came all around, but couldn't find his knees
Mickey Mouse was all put out, Donald Duck began to shout
Rumors that were put about, said they would get theirs next


Roll Right Stones

'Till I found out, where will I go, where will I go
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know where
The space is between my eyes
Open up the heavenly sky
Death awaits with pearly gates
Those who've been mesmerized
Many a year has come and gone

Went to see a standing stone
Some in circles, some alone
Ancient, worn and weather torn
They chill me to my very bone
Many of these can be seen
In quiet places, fields of green
Of hedgerow lanes with countless names
But the only thing that remains are the roll right stones

Space age before my eyes
Opening up the skies
Death awaits with pearly gates
For those who've been mesmerized
Many a years has come and gone
But progress marches slowly on
In nature's paint, she hides the stain
'Cos everybody is going insane
The only, the only thing that will sustain are the roll right stones

roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones

'Till I found out, where will I go, where will I go
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know where
The space is between my eyes
Open up the heavenly skies
Death awaits with pearly gates
Those who've been mesmerized
Many a years has come and gone

Went to see an ancient mound
People buried underground
Long ago, we'll never know
What it was like to hear their sounds
Rock and Roll you can hear
You've see the sights of yesteryear
You steal the grain of conquered plain
But the only thing that remains are the roll right stones

Space age before my eyes
Opening up the skies
Death awaits with pearly gates
Those who've been mesmerized
Many a years have come and gone
But progress marches slowly on
In nature's paint, she hides the stain
'Cos everybody is a going insane
The only, the only thing that will sustain are the roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones

Space age before my eyes
Opening up the skies
and Death awaits with pearly gates
For those who've been mesmerized
Many a year has come and gone
But progress marches slowly on
In nature's paint, she hides the stain
'Cos everybody is going insane
The only, the only thing that will sustain are the roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones
roll right stones


Evening Blue

Sitting all alone by the fireside
Listen to the wind in the chimney top
Haven't slept for days, and I'm still wide eyed
Try not to think, but my mind won't stop
Evening shadows making my heart sing out
With the setting sun, turning leaves to brown
If I had a lover, who's heart was true
I wouldn't be alone in this evening blue
Everybody's looking for something in life
Not everyone's finds what they're looking for
Everybody wants a little happiness in life
But everyone can open the door
Morning wakens, making my heart sing out
Now that summer's here, changing fears and doubts


Tragic Magic

Instrumental


(Sometimes I Feel So) Uninspired

Sometimes I feel so uninspired
Sometimes I feel like giving up
Sometimes I feel so very tired
Sometimes I feel like I've had enough
Sometimes you feel like you've been hired
Sometimes you feel like you've been bought
Sometimes you feel like your room's been wired
Sometimes you feel like you've been caught
But don't let it get you down
There is no reason for not failing
You've got to smile and turn the other cheek
So today you might get up
But by tomorrow you'll be sailing
And you won't even hear these words I speak
Some people want to be so desired
Some people can't stand the light of day
Somebody's laughing while someone is crying
But for to want in the close of the day
But sometimes I feel like my head is spinning
I'm gonna cave with all I see
I don't know who's losing and I don't care who's winning
Hardship and trouble following me
 

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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