Bradford, prog-rock, and Allan Holdsworth: The story of ‘’Igginbottom’s Wrench’
London demands a lot of attention when it comes to the musical history of this nation, and with good reason, too. After all, and as much as it pains a Northerner like me to admit, the capital city had produced a plethora of Britain’s greatest artists. Yet, when examining a scene like prog-rock, it is easy to forget to look at the countless pioneering artists who existed outside the M25.
Bradford isn’t often hailed as a musical haven; Gareth Gates, Kiki Dee, and that bloke from One Direction mark the most successful artists to ever arise from the ‘Wool City’. Dig a little deeper, though, and Bradford has spurred on the creation of some hugely underrated gems over the decades. One of its greatest, in fact, came from the era of prog, in the form of ‘Igginbottom.
Progressive rock, to give it its briefest possible origin story, was forged from the psychedelic experimentation of the ‘Summer of Love’, which made it an unlikely sound to take root in the industrial surroundings of West Yorkshire. Hippiedom, for the most part, tended to restrict itself to the green surroundings of Hyde Park, or the stone circles of Glastonbury; flower crowns and flared trousers would have seemed rather alien against the soot-stained stone of Bradford’s mill-heavy landscape.
Nevertheless, the fittingly glottal-stopped ‘Igginbottom emerged from those unlikely surroundings in 1968, led by the vocals and guitar stylings of Allan Holdsworth. In later years, Holdsworth became a stalwart of the British prog and jazz fusion scene, performing with everybody from Soft Machine to Level 42. It was with ‘Igginbottom that he first earned his stripes, though, even if the band itself isn’t remembered to nearly the same extent as its frontman.
Admittedly, the obscurity with which ‘Igginbottom operated at the time is easy to understand. Not only was Bradford largely devoid of any kind of music scene at the time, certainly not one that rivalled the all-encompassing power of London, but their sound was also far too far-out for mainstream consumption during that period.
Blending the newly emerging sound of jazz fusion with an improvisational quality that lent itself quite neatly to the psychedelic haze laid over the music, ‘Igginbottom might as well have landed from Mars, rather than Manningham Road. Unsurprisingly, then, the group never made it into the musical mainstream; had they done, so they stood a good chance of being among the most influential, innovative prog-slash-fusion outfits out there.
As it happened, though, Holdsworth’s group only managed to conjure up one studio album, 1969’s ‘Igginbottom’s Wrench, for which the group had left their Bradfordian surroundings in the rear-view mirror, travelling to London to record. Adding even more to its prog-rock credibility, the album came to fruition with the help of Love Affair and Ronnie Scott, of all people. Seemingly, though, that star-studded cast wasn’t enough to make the LP a hit.
Exactly when ‘Igginbottom decided to call it quits is a fact that is receding into the sands of obscurity, but Holdsworth ended up joining Sunship in 1971, another stepping stone on his expansive journey through the prog and fusion scene.
Whether the Bradfordian outfit was simply too ahead of their time to make it big in 1969, or whether it fell victim to under-promotion, ‘Igginbottom’s Wrench remains one of the most underrated records of the period, and a lost jewel in the musical history of West Yorkshire.
