Saga Records: The Swinging Saga

Saga Records has got to be one of the most eclectic and collectable of the first flush of budget record labels that emerged in London in the 1960s. Its catalogue boasts everything from genuine spit and sawdust beardy-folk to prime psychedelia and back again via a good few dollops of Swinging London's best finery. The possibilities of finding an excellent record on the Saga imprint are equally as high as unearthing something utterly dreadful, and that is perhaps one of its greatest charms. Seeing the Saga label always makes you look twice at a record, and that's a good sign.

The label itself began in the early part of the 1960s, owned an ran by an man named Marcel Rod, who saw the possibilities of the burgeoning popular classics market with the widespread uptake of hi-fidelity stereo players with those of a classical bent - this emphasis on fidelity subsequently being emphasised with Saga catalogue numbers and their FID prefix down the years. It is ironic therefore, that Saga records often boast some of the most utterly dreadful sound quality you will find on mass-produced records. Talking of catalogue number prefixes, I do believe that the SOC catalogue number has something to do with Society Records, which quite possibly was a previous incarnation of Saga Records. I digress. To get things moving at Saga, Marcel Rod travelled across central and eastern Europe and licensed a great many recordings made by classical orchestras in countries like Poland, Hungary and Czechoslovakia, using well-respected orchestras that were superbly drilled, but operating as they did behind the Iron Curtain, would sell their tapes for buttons. It worked wonderfully, and Rod was able to swiftly build Saga a reputation for delivering great value for money recordings of top orchestras (although of course these were given fictitious names on the credits of the albums). Having cemented Saga's position in the budget labels market, Rod was able to indulge one of his own little interests, in committing to vinyl the fast-disappearing sounds of the world of steam railways. He recorded and Saga released a number of records with the distinctive whoosh and pssssst of boilers and the chuff, chuff, chuff as The Mallard made steam across the borders. It may seem distinctly odd, but there are those out there to whom these records are still of great interest. You might see some of them at the end of the platform with a video camera next time you catch a train…

Moving swiftly back into the realms of sanity, the early successes of Saga meant that it could rapidly expand the musical breadth of its catalogue. As Swinging London exploded in 1967, Saga branched out into material that the younger set might well be persuaded to swap some shillings for, but it is perhaps another, more basic musical style with which Saga is most associated. After the arrival of Dylan, folk music was high on the popular agenda and Saga released a number of highly collectable folk albums by British singers, most notably a pre-Fairport Convention Sandy Denney. Some Saga folk albums are still held in very high regard by collectors of the genre, and of course can command a hefty price. Marcel Rod also did his best to follow in the footsteps of other pop music managers and label bosses of the day did, and uncover some talent himself and get them signed up to his publishing company, New Town Sound. Chief amongst these of course was a certain Ray Dorset, or Mungo Gerry as he would be known as the 70s rolled in. But what is really very noticeable about Saga is that they were not afraid to chance their arm on a bunch of freaks that could attract a few punters in a Soho basement. Such a strategy may not have got Saga any hit records, but it did evolve several highly imaginative albums and at least a couple of stone-cold psychedelic classics that will set you back a right good bit of folding to get a feel of - most notably the highly regarded self-titled album by the Five Day Week Straw People.

A word about sound quality; Saga records have a reputation for having some very poor sound reproduction characteristics, and there is a very good reason for this - scrap vinyl. Saga would buy vinyl by the lorry load from the local Philips pressing plant, which it would melt down and re-use in its own presses. This was a serious saving and is one of the chief reasons why budget labels were able to compete with the majors and get records into the shops for a budget price - they sourced their raw materials for next to nothing. Working in this way had its own up-side for staff at Saga, as when the weekly lorry load of miss-presses, rejects and deletions from Philips would arrive, a mad scramble to sift through the pile for something nice to listen to would ensue amongst those in the Saga office - armfuls of vinyl would be saved from the stampers by cheerful staff. This kind of activity no doubt saved a great many flops of the day from being entirely unobtainable to collectors subsequently. Phew!

A great many saga releases hit the high streets during the closing years of the 1960s, and these did sporadically continue through into the mid-1970s and as things moved on Saga spawned a number of associated companies and labels, the best known of which is of course the ultra-cheapie Boulevard records. Working from the same London address were also imprints such as Flag - all under the banner of Allied Records and the Art & Sound company. Boulevard seems to have been the imprint of choice as the 1970s came along, but their output showed a good deal less class than that of Saga, and as the latter part of the 1970s came, so Saga went. However, this most wonderful of labels has left a lasting mark on the record collecting consciousness, with some fine releases that stand the test of time and still make hefty demands of collectors wallets. For evidence of this diversity, grab a load of the Swinging Saga compilation album if you see it - it's a bit of a rarity in itself, but a good introduction to the world of Saga and a fine accompaniment to the following appraisal...