Pavlov's Dog ● Pampered Menial

Every once in a while The "I-Own-Every-Record-You'd-Never-Buy" CD Consumer's Guide stumbles upon a great record. That record in this case is Pampered Menial, the first of two albums from an obscure St. Louis-based band called Pavlov's Dog. As is often the case, such greatness -- particularly greatness cloaked in complete obscurity -- comes with a disclaimer. Despite the band's impressive musical chops, Pavlov's Dog features what might be the strangest vocalist in this history of rock (a bold statement, I know, but you'll have to trust me). His name is David Surkamp and the man can sing. Kind of. If you can get past Surkamp's glass-shattering vocal acrobatics -- and that's a big if -- you're in for a treat. Pampered Menial is an often brilliant mix of progressive-tinged hard rock and muscular melodic pop. The band rocks hard on more complex numbers like "Song Dance" and "Natchez Trace," while "Julia" and "Of Once and Future Kings" reveal a softer, more relaxed approach to the band's intricate compositions. Sadly, the vocals -- an acquired taste at best -- are most likely what prevented Pavlov's Dog from even sniffing commercial success. The band released a second record -- 1976's wryly titled At the Sound of the Bell -- before calling it quits, Surkamp giving way to Rush's Geddy Lee as sole owner of rock's most unusual voice.

Notes: You've got to hear it to believe it: From Pampered Menial, here is an audio-only YouTube clip of Pavlov's Dog's "Song Dance:" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bn6PoixRZcs.