Slender Loris

Slender Loris 1976

They were a Birmingham group but spent a fair amount of time in Nottingham and for a short time I thought they were from these parts so I may as well make a mention of them. The reason for their Nottingham connection would be guitarist Phil Kirwan who had been in the local Nottingham sixties group The Salty Dogs who met at Mundella Grammar School. Slender Loris played a fusion of rock and jazz.

Formed Birmingham, West Midlands, United Kingdom
Members:
Andy Morton (guitar), Phil Kirwan (guitar), Martin Berry (bass, acoustic guitar), Colin Edmonds (drums, percussion), Ray (soprano saxophone), Dave Bristow (piano, keyboards, 1975-?), Micky Barker (drums, 1975-?), Curtis Little (guitar)

Meeting in 1970, Andy and Phil first collaborated as Folk artists as a duo called The Jack Russell Two and then The Jack Russell Funtette, gigging around the UK Folk Club circuit.

After this experience, they decided to form a band and teamed up with Singer/Songwriter Martin Berry and shortly after with Colin and Ray. In 1975, Dave and Mickey became members of the band, a five piece with the original trio of Andy, Phil and Martin. It was a short-lived line up since Andy left replaced by Curtis before the disbandment in 1978.

After a long hiatus, in mid 00s Slender Loris reformed as a four-piece comprising Andy, Phil, Martin and Colin, and released the album Hybrid Vigour in 2008.

1978 A1 / Looking For A Dream / A2 Bad Magic
B1 / Are You Ready For Love? / B2 Ghost Train

Slender Loris played a formidable fusion of rock/jazz/blues fronted by Birmingham’s own original soul man Curtis Little. The band were active on the local circuit and were one of the most unique bands in the region, with highly original songs, astonishing musical prowess and intelligent lyrics.
Julian Crook.

NME Dec 18th page 25 Article called Brum Rock part 2
1976 I’m Only Heavy When You Put Me Down /
A Week Of A Day

From a post David Briggs 2013. “We used to go to see Slender Loris at the old Mint Bar at the Albany Hotel in Nottingham in the mid 1970s. Are they still around?”

and that is where I remember seeing them and maybe The Imperial as well.

Here is a youtube playlist.

Discogs

From Maurice Moore’s recollections: The band (Salty Dogs) split up when some of the members left Nottingham, each going their separate ways. Phil moved to Birmingham and played in the band Slender Loris amongst others and now plays in Dreams a tribute to Fleetwood Mac.

From Radio To Go

Curtis Little: goodbye to one of the greats

On Friday, I went to another funeral. It was to send the great Curtis Little on his way, and to celebrate his life. 

When I landed in Birmingham, two generations ago, I was taken, very early, by Slender Loris, a band that mixed complex intelligent songs with delivery, from Curtis, that was punchy as hell. 

As a DJ, I couldn’t believe my luck: a voice like that? On my patch?

Whip-thin, all sinew and muscle, not a spare ounce on his frame, Curtis was the epitome of a front man. He had a voice to die for, rich, soulful, deep, and he really knew how to use it. Where it came from, God only knows. But he was a joy to watch. 
Curtis didn’t stay with Loris forever. He had loads of bands. There was a particularly fabulous 80s outfit, The Flying Doctors, with the exceptional Pete Oliver on guitar, and a platoon of hardbitten excellent local musos holding it all together. They were, tight, showy, and a lot of fun. And Curtis ran his own bands for many years: Curtis Little and The Receivers, and then simply the Curtis Little Band, dishing out killer soul and tasteful rock grooves to local crowds and knocking them dead. He always showed immaculate taste.

Also from Radio To Go Andrew Morton on joining a new band while in his sixties remarks:

Andrew Morton: It would be foolish to think that it’s wise, all of us between the ages of 60 and 65, to wade in with a new band. The word band is almost embarrassing to use at this stage in life. I mean, unless you’re Seasick Steve, you’ve got to be insane to do something like this. We want gigs, we do everything properly, but we are not lusting after fame and fortune like we were at 25. With Slender Loris, the idea was to make it, in the ridiculous terms under which people defined making it in the 70s: you look for an advance of a couple of hundred thousand quid, and then you get chained to a record company to make five albums, one and a half of which are decent, and the rest are rubbish; and then you fall apart. 

Music Week July 22nd 1978 David Bristow