Episode 69 - Keeper of the Seven Keyboards (ft. Uriah Heep, Kansas & Gillan)

For their latest journey down hard rock and heavy metal's many-faceted highway, the Sadmen's destination was that utopian land of pianos, synthesisers, Moogs and mellotrons. Yes, friends, having done vocalists, singers and bass players, it was time to pay tribute to some of the ivory tinklers who help to make up rock's great tapestry.

But if you thought we were going all Tony Banks, Jon Lord, Rick Wakeman or Richard Wright on you, think again, fans.

Yes, in this episode we do touch on some obvious waypoints, but of Genesis, Purple/Whitesnake, Yes and Floyd there is no sign (or is there?) And though Mark and Rich go fully prog rock (or 'prock' as no-one ever calls it), Steve manages to keep it real with a big slice of late-70s hard rock.

With three albums released over a period of just seven years, we start back in 1972 with Uriah Heep who, at this point were shelling albums like peas, yet still managed to trump early successes like Look At Yourself and Salisbury, with the huge cornucopia of Ken Hensley-inspired sound that was Demons And Wizards (their 4th album in just 23 months - and release #5 would follow just 6 short months later).

We follow that another fourth release, this time from Kansas, and an album full of material that, staggeringly, wasn't deemed good enough for the band's previous two issues. Yes, folks, the clue is in the name - 1976's Leftoverture (though the 'after the mayor's ball' nature of the track listing didn't stop it becoming widely recognised as Kansas' seminal release) features the sloppy seconds from Song For America and Masque. Enter, then, one Kerry Livgren (among many others) on keyboard duty.

And you know we said there wasn't a sign of Deep Purple in this show? Well of course, there is, as Steve rolls up with Ian Gillan, now fronting his own eponymously titled band and their second release, Mr Universe, from 1979. On keyboards, and widely appreciated as the man who steered his honey-larynxed boss off a jazz-fusion march into oblivion, one Colin Towns - a man so mercurial that he counts the theme tune to Angelina Ballerina among his many TV theme credits.

So ... it's fair to say an eclectic show lay ahead ...