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The problem with singles bands from the '60s is that their sound often changed from single to single, depending on whatever the flavor of the month on the radio happened to be. Bands struggling to establish themselves were pressured by labels or producers to change their sound in a reactionary way. Without a comfort zone that enabled them to define their current sound--fleshing it out over the course of an entire LP--these groups often left behind one great single as their trademark, but little to back it up. Often, the b-sides were filler R&B covers, chosen from their live set list and thrown together at the last moment.


Mouse and the Traps

Mouse and the Traps is the perfect example. They displayed flashes of brilliance, but ultimately their catalog--a collection of singles--is so all-over-the-place that it's a bit befuddling when taken as a whole. We can thank the Nuggets and Pebbles compilations for shedding light on groups like Mouse and the Traps, whose "A Public Execution" and "Maid of Sugar, Maid of Spice" both appear on the first Nuggets box. But, unfortunately, such compilations do little to educate the listener on the rest of the group's catalog. In many instances, as the clerk at the record store told me when I picked up my copy of the Nuggets box some six years ago, the bands featured on these comps don't boast a catalog worth looking into. They are, by definition, "one-hit wonders."

However, Mouse and the Traps are the exception to that rule. Their collection, The Fraternity Years, is proof. Yes, technically, they were a one-hit wonder. However, unlike many of their one-hit wonder contemporaries, they should/coulda been more--if only this, that and the other had went their way. Despite the fact that The Fraternity Years finds the band's sound in constant transition, each stop along the way is well worth the visit. It compiles everything the band recorded over their first three years for the Cincinnati label, Fraternity.

The Texas quintet leaped from style to style quicker than listeners could spin the radio dial. They made their name with the 1966 single "A Public Execution," a dead-ringer for mid-'60s Dylan. But, stylistically, they were all over the sonic map, bouncing from dirty R&B to baroque pop to Merseybeat-inspired radio-rock to folk-rock. Amazingly, they were adept at each, which makes one ponder just what Mouse and company might have achieved if given a chance to build on their modest regional success in the South and Midwest. With a bit of breathing room and a few weeks in a recording studio, their popularity might have soared to the point where years later they would have been spared the Nuggets treatment altogether. Sadly, we'll never know.

The Fraternity Years is a fine document of a band living in limbo, complete with informative liner notes and 25 songs. Purchase it here or here.

Songs:

"A Public Execution" -- Their first single from early '66. The organ/piano/guitar sounds are all typical of the times, but the chorus is pure Dylan counterfeit. Mouse does a pretty good facsimile on vocals, too.

"Maid of Sugar, Maid of Spice" -- A nice, little garage rock rave-up that rivals 'bout anyone's best effort. Unfortunately, it flopped big-time as a follow-up single to "A Public Execution." Check out that guitar solo!

"Sometimes You Just Can't Win" -- I told you they did baroque pop, too. This was later-period stuff for them, but was recorded just two years after they debuted. The group all thought that this would be their big breakthrough, but it failed, too, despite constant touring and TV performances on regional midwest shows. Sadly, the band's studio mate, a one-hit wonder by the name of John Fred, heard the tune and released his own version just prior to Mouse's take hit the shelves. Cut-throat, indeed.

"Like I Know You Do" -- Getting back to the Byrds influence on this one. Mouse released this as a b-side, which shows in part how strong their material was, but also how poor their label's decision-making was regarding what tunes to push. The a-side was a novelty tune that the band would have preferred not to release.

"Lie, Beg, Borrow & Steal" -- Again, this shows just how capable the Traps were as a backing band, here featuring Buggs Henderson on guitar and psychedelic banjo. Recorded in 1967, it's amazing that this tune hasn't garnered the band a bigger following among garage rock enthusiasts. In the liner notes, Mouse says that the group's recorded output wasn't always representative of their live show: "You would come to see us, and we would pin your ears back to the wall and be gettin' with it..." I gotta feeling that this was one of their favorites to play live.

"Cryin' Inside" -- A completely infectious pop tune from 1967. How this song wasn't a fucking hit is beyond me.

N/P--Esquivel, Music from a Sparkling Planet