294) Web — “Love You”
In ’70, Web released I Spider, its third and final album. New singer Dave Lawson (who, earlier in life, took piano lessons with Stan Tracey, the “godfather of British jazz” (Dave Lawson liner notes to the CD reissue of I Spider)) wrote all the material, “transform[ing] Web into a jazz-rock outfit with progressive rock and blues leanings” (Geoffrey Feakes, therockasteria.blogspot.com/2017/12/web-i-spider-1970-71-uk-exceptional) and giving the album a “heavy and menacing” atmosphere (Vernon Joynson, Tapestry of Delights Revisited). Maybe because they rehearsed in a monastery and a nunnery (Dave Lawson)? Jo-Ann Greene says in All Music Guide that “[m]oving strongly into progressive rock, the band strode far afield from the psychedelic meanderings they’d undertaken on their last set . . . .”
After the release of the album, Web promptly morphed into Samurai, “prompted by a lack of finance and also frustration over their name constantly being misspelt on billings.” (Feakes) Sometimes “Webb,” sometimes “The Webb.” (Dave Lawson). The band broke up because its name was being misspelt?! It should have been called The Wuss. Thank God the band members hadn’t named themselves Lynyrd Skynyrd!
As to “Love You,” a relentless barn burner, Greene states that ‘[d]ramatic shifts in dynamic . . . drive [the song, a] showcase for horn player Tom Harris, with John Eaton’s vicious, buzzing bassline powering the whole second half of the piece and providing furious encouragement to Tony Edwards’ fuzz-drenched guitar.”
“You play-girl, I’d like to join the queue that seeks your favours. There’s something on my mind. You’ll find out soon enough. I’ve written you letters so you won’t forget me. I’ve taken you out from time to time to time. And who can tell, one day you may even let me love you. I’m calling you up to make a reservation. I’m waiting my turn till you’re mine all mine. Although I can say without much hesitation, love you. And if you let me love you, I’d be so very gentle. . . .”