Heavy Equipment

Released in 1970 on Flying Dutchman’s Amsterdam imprint, Heavy Equipment is the kind of record that feels almost mythical in hindsight. A hard rock album that barely moved on release, yet now trades hands for upwards of £300, it sits in that strange space between obscurity and cult reverence. The surprise is not that it vanished, but that it ever existed in this form at all.

Euclid were an unlikely collision of geography and intent. A four-piece with roots split between Haverill, Massachusetts and Maine, they channelled a shared background in garage and psychedelic bands into something heavier, louder and more direct. At the centre was Gary Leavitt, the band’s de facto leader, primary songwriter and guitarist, whose presence anchors the record even as it threatens to spill over at the edges.

The influence of Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page is unmistakable, but Heavy Equipment is not content to imitate. It pushes forward with a kind of raw insistence, trading finesse for force without losing its grip on structure. Produced by Bobby Herne and mixed by Les Paul Jr, the album lives up to its title. It is blisteringly loud, unapologetically so, the sort of record that feels designed to overwhelm before it persuades.

That intent is clear from the outset. The three-part ‘Curtains Of Night’ opens with ambition and weight, stretching its ideas without collapsing under them. Elsewhere, Leavitt’s own material, ‘Bye Bye Baby’, ‘97 Days’ and ‘She’s Gone’, leans into a tighter, more focused attack, where riffs carry as much narrative as the lyrics themselves. There is a confidence in the playing that holds everything together, particularly in the rhythm section, which drives tracks like ‘Lazy Livin’’ with a muscular precision.

The covers are telling. ‘It’s All Over Now’, popularised by the Rolling Stones, and ‘Gimme Some Lovin’’ by the Spencer Davis Group are not treated as reverent tributes but as opportunities to push the band’s sound further into overdrive. They sit comfortably alongside the originals, reinforcing the sense that Euclid were less interested in fitting into a scene than in amplifying it.

For years, Heavy Equipment existed more as rumour than reality, circulating through bootlegs and collector circles. This remastered edition, taken from the original tapes, finally restores the album with the clarity it always deserved.

What emerges is not just a curiosity, but a fully realised statement. Loud, direct and steeped in the transition from psychedelia to hard rock, Heavy Equipment captures a band on the cusp of something, even if the wider world never quite caught up.