Paul Parrish is one of those singers who maybe did too few albums, didn't have enough mystique and maybe just got unlucky and has been scattered in the wind ever since. Until recently, cos they've finally put some of his early stuff out on cd, and it is GREAT. His first album The Forest Of My Mind (1968) is a gorgeous slab of soft-psych folk-rock reminiscent of Sunshine Superman-era Donovan, full of flutes, harpsichords, flower-power anthems, and period charm (you might find it a little saccharine, personally i love saccharine keep it coming) - so go buy, it's really good.
Songs came out in 1971 and is, again, a total product of its time. A mostly piano-led singer-songwriter album, everything kept simple (title included) and sparse and heartfelt, with the odd McCartneyesque bit of piano pop but mostly a bunch of introspective and lovely little ditties you can hum along to. Again, i have to stipulate that this is an album with song titles like A Poem I Wrote For Your Hair and I Once Had A Dog, all sung completely earnestly, so you might wanna use your safe word before subjecting yourself to this if you have trouble with that kinda thing. It might be a personal failing, but I can take a harsh pounding of this kind of post-60's hippie melancholy like a champ.
Nice huh. Apart from that bit where that guy chips in ('Ed Venezuela?'). I'm sure at some point at school i wrote a poem about someone's hair. It sounds like something i would do. So I just went for a walk and listened to Songs on my ultra millenium-denial discman, and (apart from all the skipping due to aforementioned shitty discman) it sounded pretty as heck in the sunshine walking around Pontcanna. I guess there's not much more to say about it than that. It's a shame so much great music gets lost over time, or falls in and out of fashion, it all seems kinda arbitrary. Here's one that deserves to be salvaged, and hopefully with its recent reissue, might well find its place in some of our hearts.