It’s 1971, and Led Zeppelin has already dropped three earth-shattering albums. Black Sabbath is terrifying parents across England. And somewhere in the UK, a band called Leafhound is about to release Growers of Mushroom—an album title so earnestly hippie that it could only exist in that exact moment .
You’ve never heard of them. Neither had most people.
But here’s the thing—maybe you should have .
The Band That Almost Was
Leafhound rose from the ashes of Black Cat Bones, a band that served as a breeding ground for rock royalty . Paul Kossoff and Simon Kirk? They bailed to form Free. Rod Price? Off to Foghat. By the time Leafhound actually coalesced around vocalist Peter French, guitarist Mick Halls, and the Brooks brothers on guitar and bass, they were already the band left behind .
French had pipes that could go toe-to-toe with Robert Plant—that bluesy howl, that raw power . The guitar tone was pure Leslie West meets early Jimmy Page, all fuzz and fury, like they’d blown out the speakers and just kept recording . When “Freelance Fiend” kicks open the door with its razor-sharp buzz and cowbell, you think you’re about to hear something legendary.
And that’s both the album’s strength and its curse .
Growers of Mushroom sounds like Led Zeppelin. Not in a tribute band way, but in that same-DNA kind of way . The lead singer/lead guitarist dynamic. The blues foundation with minor-key Sabbath detours. That stripped-down, performance-based intensity that made early 70s rock so visceral . “With A Minute to Go” even borrows the cadence from “What Is and What Should Never Be”—and somehow gets away with it .
But here’s the brutal truth: Leafhound had the sound without the songs .
Every track starts like a freight train. “Drown My Life in Fear” opens with this deep, ominous bass and what sounds like slide guitar, pulling you into something dark and compelling . “Stray” kicks off in Zeppelin territory before veering into Sabbath-y doom . For those first 30 to 40 seconds, you’re all in .
Then… where’s the hook? Where’s the chorus you’ll be humming tomorrow?
The riffs repeat. The solos meander. The crescendos build to nothing . It’s frustrating because you want it to be better than it is . You can hear the potential, the raw ingredients, but something—that ineffable something that separates Jimmy Page from every other blues-rock guitarist in 1971—just isn’t there .
The Wild Cards
When Leafhound breaks from the Zeppelin/Sabbath playbook, things get interesting . “Work My Body” stretches out for eight minutes with jazzy blues guitars and an unexpected structural shift that completely changes the song five minutes in . “Growers of Mushroom” takes a trippy, psychedelic turn that sounds like the Amboy Dukes . “Sad Road to the Sea” dips into folky introspection .
These moments reveal a band trying to find their own voice, experimenting with sounds that wouldn’t become standard until later in the decade . The problem? Those experiments don’t always land . The production can’t quite support the ambition. The performances, while energetic, lack the dynamics that make a seven-minute jam session feel essential rather than indulgent.
The Aftermath
Growers of Mushroom didn’t chart. It barely got released outside the UK . The band imploded shortly after, with French departing for Atomic Rooster and later Cactus—bands that, let’s be honest, most people haven’t heard of either .
Decades later, the album got rediscovered by crate-diggers and proto-metal obsessives . Reissues in 2022 added bonus tracks . A reformed Leafhound even released new material in the 2000s, though without most of the original lineup . It became a cult curiosity—the kind of record you find in a local record store for ten bucks and buy based on the cover alone .
Because that’s what Growers of Mushroom ultimately is: a curiosity . A snapshot of a moment when heavy rock was still figuring itself out, when blues and metal hadn’t fully separated, when bands could earnestly name an album after fungus cultivation without a trace of irony .
If you’re the kind of fan who thinks Led Zeppelin peaked with their first three albums—all raw blues power, no orchestral pretension—then Leafhound might scratch an itch you didn’t know you had . This is what the second wave of Zeppelin-influenced bands sounded like before anyone called it “classic rock” . Before the sound calcified into cliché .
Put on “Freelance Fiend.” Crank it loud enough to feel that fuzzy, buzzing guitar tone in your chest . Let Peter French’s Robert Plant howl wash over you . For three minutes and forty-seven seconds, you’re in 1971, and everything still sounds dangerous and new .
Just don’t expect it to sound that way by the end of the album .
Sometimes the journey matters more than the destination. And sometimes a band gives you just enough to make you wonder: What if they’d had one more great songwriter? One more killer hook? What if Decca had pushed them the way Atlantic pushed Zeppelin?
We’ll never know. But Growers of Mushroom remains—a testament to a band that had the sound of legends without quite becoming one .
What’s your take? Does Leafhound deserve more recognition, or were they always destined to be a footnote in the Led Zeppelin story?
Songs in this Episode
Intro - Stray
17:15 - Freelance Fiend
19:19 - With a Minute to Go
25:28 - Drowned My Life in Fear
29:54 - With a Minute to Go
Outro - Sad Road to the Sea
