How An Obscure Psychedelic Album Led To The Creation Of The Internet As We Know It

The transition of embarrassment, from psychedelia to whatever came next, led to some interesting changes. The major-league players had the talent and momentum to carry them through, but less successful acts (of the kind covered with great affection and respect here) were often reduced to extreme re-invention and a name change, in the hope of getting gigs and a recording contract.

The Travel Agency were never going to be a headline act; the needle flickers into the red on the Obscurometer© at their very mention. The anonimity of the musicians on the sleeve led me to think - back in the early seventies, when I picked this up - that it was a psychploitation exercise, an impression strengthened by the sketchy Viva label and the high-visibility branding of label owner Snuff Garrett (who gave a fuck?). Back then, I had no way of finding out more. It was frustrating, because the album was pretty good - if not quite as good as John Van Hamersveld's insanely thrilling sleeve promised.

So Tim [Berners-Lee - Ed.] and I were chatting about this over a daiquiri in Harry's Bar, and he decided to invent the World Wide Web so we could solve the Travel Agency puzzle. The first thing we turned up - I will never forget his cry of triumph! - was a single release, but I still have doubts this was the same group. A few short years later (pre-Discogs) we managed to establish a surprising connection with the '71 Shanti album on Atlantic. Turns out that the Travel Agency guys re-invented themselves as one of the first fusion acts. Far from ditching the Indian influence, they amped it up to eleven, bringing in two respected classically-trained Indian musicians (Discogs is your friend for the details). The result is fascinating, but it wasn't the money-earner it might have been. Audiences weren't ready for more Indian instruments, perhaps associating them with a long-dead trend, or with Indian restaurants more than Eastern Wisdom. The Indo-fusion movement made more headway in jazz (particularly John McLaughlin's Shakti ... sayyy ... That name reminds me of something.)

What interests me is how these guys appeared out of nowhere, made an album, disappeared for a few years, and came back with a major label contract and a couple of classical heavyweights in the lineup. Anybody? Hoo hah?

With thanks to Tim Berners-Lee, who still maintains the single - included - is the work of the same band.