We're All Still Here; No One Has Gone Away

Robin Williamson and Mike Heron: whatever the ups and downs of the band, these two Scottish gentlemen were the constant. In fact, to some extent, it hardly mattered who else was alongside - if they were there, it was The Incredible String Band. From that initial phase as a trio with Clive Palmer, through the dancing hippie chicks Mimi and Mouse, the steady introduction of the girlfriends as members - Christina McKecknie, better known as Licorice or Licky, and Rose Simpson, better known as, well, Rose - through to the dancer, Malcolm Le Maistre, and the steady introduction of various members as the rock element grew, it was always Mike and Robin at the core - writing and singing, separate and yet a unit. Robin, with his fey and mystical songs, exploring philosophy, religion and mythology, in a grab bag of parts that somehow made immediate sense as a whole. Mike - slightly more grounded but complimentary - the perfect foil, adding the songs with a kazoo and an acoustic guitar, to sing to that girl with the long hair that you'd finally enticed back to your halls of residence. Start with 'Log Cabin' and end on a version of 'Rainbow', and she would be yours. Maybe.

The band had begun as a duo of Robin Williamson and Clive Palmer, not under the ISB name, but as Beatniks. The hippie label was not yet coined. They lived a beatnik existence in the flats of Edinburgh, sharing the life with the likes of Bert Jansch. Hard-living, floorboards were burnt to keep warm, and when all that could burn was burnt, a tent was erected in the middle of the floor for some relief from the biting Scottish winter - so cold that smoke froze solid. Apparently.

Robin and Clive played the clubs and sessions, doing traditional folk and old- time American banjo tunes. They were getting a name as great players: Clive and his banjo, Robin and his fiddle, and the guitars. Growing fish in a growing ocean. Mike had encountered them as he made his way around the Edinburgh music scene, toting his guitar. See Mikes autobiographical book, You Know What You Could Be, for full details on this period, but suffice to say, the two added the one, Clive's Incredible Folk Club gave them a name, and they were off and running; The Incredible String Band. Now the name has connotations beyond its origins, reflecting the old-timey basis. Enter Joe Boyd - musical whizz-kid about town. His portfolio has included Fairport Convention, John Martyn and Nick Drake - in fact, a who's who of folk rock royalty, and that aside from Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, and others from that side of the folk/rock wall. So when he encountered the trio, he was impressed, installed them in a studio, recorded a debut album and got them a deal with the cool American Elektra label.

There will be more about the albums in this book, of course, but at this point, things go a little awry as Clive heads off to Afghanistan and Robin scoots off to Morocco, neither planning to return anytime soon, if at all. Mike continues to play solo around Scotland and misses his comrades. Clive leaves the picture, but before long, Robin returns to the nest, bearing a suntan and much more: crucially, a number of ethnic instruments, including that key ISB sound, the bowed gimbri. Actually, Robin decided to bow it, but most Moroccans played it as one would a mandolin. In a veritable aviary of pleasure, the robin and the heron reconvened, and the String Band was back in business as a duo, ready to take on the world with a run of eccentric but breathtaking albums. Perhaps it's best to pause here to point out that the albums were indeed breathtaking, but a matter of taste. Few are indifferent: you either adore them with a passion or scream, 'For god's sake, turn that off ', within 30 seconds.

The dancers, Mimi and Mouse, came and went, and the duo set about the seminal The 5000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion, followed by The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter and Wee Tam and The Big Huge. Licorice and Rose Simpson - the girlfriends and fellow travellers - cropped up on the odd track, singing, beaming from the album sleeve, or contributing an instrument. And all this time, the perfume of a certain brand of herbal cigarette, mingled with even more mind-bending items, to present another world which we mere mortals could only wonder at.

But change was afoot, in the form of Scientology - a cult-like belief system - and to illustrate the removal from external to internal influence, the next album was entitled Changing Horses, and behold, as the two girls became official members, the band was now a quartet. For many, it seemed like the magic was diminishing, as this album and its follow up, I Looked Up, were not as well-received as that initial run. Frankly, these are still very good albums but were just not able to easily follow what went before.

The band had even managed to play at Woodstock without ever getting to appear in the film or on a soundtrack record until the 21st century!

Next, the foursome decided to take a multimedia step, developing a largely inexplicable stage show - or a 'surreal parable in song and dance' - using the talents of a hippie dance troupe called Stone Monkey. The resulting show and album, called simply U, lost money hand over fist, though the double album has magical music scattered across its grooves.

A move to the Island label - where virtually all of Joe Boyd's Witchseason Productions artistes resided - saw a slightly inconsequential album and a fascinating, if dated, film, called Be Glad For The Song Has No Ending. Part- documentary, part-hippie-silent-movie, it was to be the last outing for Rose Simpson, as she departed out of sight, only to re-emerge as 'the hippy who played at Woodstock, now the Lady Mayoress of Aberystwyth'. Well, it was a good headline.

Rose's replacement was one of the dancers, Malcolm Le Maistre, who had sung on a track on the U album. It made sense. Rose was, in her own opinion, not a musician, but within the band was given fiddle and bass guitar parts to play. Malcolm could equally not play, but mandolins and clarinets were thrust into his hands, and he got his head down and learned.

The first Island album with this line-up - the charmingly titled Liquid Acrobat as Regards the Air - showed that the band retained much magic, alongside a growing rock influence, which was further developed on the next album, Earthspan. But it was time for a change, as Licorice departed 'for a break', though that break continues to this day. Indeed, her whereabouts remain a mystery, and amidst much speculation, many assume her to be no longer of this world. This time, in came a replacement in the form of a studious young reeds and keyboard player named Gerard Dott: friend of Mike, and about as likely a new recruit as signing up Alice Cooper to Take That. The one album with this line-up, No Ruinous Feud, shocked the fans with its slick cover, soft rock feel, and even a Dolly Parton song. Exit Gerard.

There was one final album to go, as the band expanded with a full-time drummer - one-time roadie, Jack Ingrams - Stan Schnier as full-time bass and steel guitar player, and the splendid rock guitar of Graham Forbes. It was fairly short-lived, and the album, Hard Rope & Silken Twine, showed a band that was pulling itself in two directions: Mike looking to the commercial rock side, Robin looking to return to the more simple acoustic musings. A new album was started but never finished, tracks from it appearing on Mike's post-ISB offering, Mike Heron's Reputation. Mike continued to explore the rock aspect with his band(s) before taking a step back and re-emerging with The Incredible Acoustic Band, which did what it said on the tin. Today, Mike is something of an icon and sings much of his old ISB catalogue, perhaps at last at peace with his heritage.

Meanwhile, Robin had moved to America with his wife Janet Shankman and steadily set about exploring his Celtic roots, most obviously with his Merry Band: all harps and bagpipes, an area that he continued to explore on subsequent solo albums. After moving back to the UK with his new wife, Bina, he's settled into a Celtic bard role, becoming an accomplished storyteller, using the harp as his primary instrument and producing an amazing run of albums, including guitar albums for the cool ECM label.

The Incredible String Band were a bookmark in musical history. But then, out of the blue, Mike, Robin and his wife Bina reformed the band in the 21st century, along with that long-gone original, Clive Palmer, who Robin had recorded and toured with.

Mike and Robin had done a couple of concerts as a duo, carefully not using the ISB name. It was said they reformed to refute Joe Boyd's claim that they never got on. But the new ISB didn't last long - Robin didn't want to coast on nostalgia, while Mike wanted to present the old songs to a new audience. So Robin left, and Mike and Clive carried on, producing live albums of the old songs, before putting it to rest once again.

Before we look at those albums from the years 1966 to 1974 (and the 21st- century recordings), we have to mention the instrumentation. If the band had a USP (unique selling proposition), it was the huge array of usual and unusual instruments they used. Mike moved from being 'just' the guitarist, to adding the...