Albums similar to the middle era Beatles, Pet Sounds, and/or Odessey & Oracle

Colours
Colours (1968)

Colours were a west coast psychedelic pop act that came together in 1967 at the request of songwriters, Jack Dalton and Gary Montgomery. Essentially a studio project, Colours featured future Derek and the Dominoes bassist, Carl Radle, who had already made quite a name for himself as a session musician and touring performer. The album was assembled over several months in late 1967, and subsequently issued by Dot Records the following year. Dot, being primarily an easy listening and country label, had little experience dealing with a band like Colours and thusly the album failed to explode as a result of their poor marketing. Quickly, the album became a collector's item and its value has only increased over the years.

Much like the Lemon Pipers or Grapefruit did, Colours attempted to sustain themselves autonomously after their partnership with Dalton and Montgomery had expired. Releasing their followup, "Atmosphere" in 1969, the album was a glaringly inferior effort, eschewing much of the sunny pop leanings of the debut. The album came and went with little fanfare and members began defecting to other musical opportunities. Colours ceased to exist in 1970. Members went on to work with Taj Mahal, Derek and the Dominoes, Eric Clapton, JJ Cale, Joe Cocker and Freddie King. Radle passed away in 1980 from a lethal combination of alcohol and narcotics.

To call this an unsung gem is an understatement. "Colours" is a brilliant Beatlesque masterpiece that, while somewhat derivative, is rife with bouyant arrangements, strong melodic hooks and sophisticated soundscapes. From beginning to end, the album is tight and focused. Like a cross between Left Banke, The Beatles and Orange Bicycle, the band's slight psych temperment is perfectly balanced with their impeccable musicianship and pitch perfect harmonies. One listen to the opener, "Bad Day at Black Rock, Baby" and their mission is crystal clear. The band never relents and at its conclusion, "Colours" leaves you wanting more. Sadly, there wasn't much more left, but damn if this isn't satisfying. Though the album has been bootlegged in Korea on CD, this has never officially been reissued

Herman's Hermits
Blaze (1967) Released October 1967

AMG review :

"While Herman's Hermits couldn't keep up with the revolutionary sounds created in 1967 by the Beatles, Cream, or Jimi Hendrix, they did manage to release pop records that steadily revealed maturity, especially evident on Blaze, their final MGM studio release. At the helm once again was producer Mickie Most, who incorporated production (and studio musicians) on par with his burgeoning Donovan hits (whose "Museum" is covered here) and similar sounding material by the Hollies. The lyrical content continued to mature with Ray Davies-style subject matter previously highlighted by "There's a Kind of Hush" and "Dandy." Unfortunately, the teen idol image of front man Peter Noone was becoming a double-edged sword, as he was starting to be replaced by a new generation of teen idols, while not being able to make the transition into hip 1967. The original cover, a kaleidoscopic view of the band members in Sgt. Pepper-type threads, wasn't enough to regain their declining credibility. Blaze has a short running time at only five songs per side but includes great lost pop songs like "Last Bus Home," "I Call Out Her Name," and "Upstairs, Downstairs." MGM put out The Best of Herman's Hermits, Vol. 3 and called it a day with the band, leaving Blaze to languish as an unappreciated pop gasp.

The Grass Roots
Let's Live for Today Released July 1967

AMG review :

"Released in the spring of 1967, Let's Live for Today was almost a musical throwback, steeped in folk-rock, which was fairly passé at the time, rather than psychedelia, but that's what makes it so appealing to listeners today. Listeners in 1967 were probably disappointed that there was nothing on the album as dramatic or memorable as the title track, but everything else is solid folk-rock with a pretty hard edge, which allows it to stand quite well alongside rival releases by the Beau Brummels, the Cryan Shames, the Blue Things, et al. Most of the music here is derived from the P.F. Sloan/Steve Barri songwriting and production team, spiced with four surprisingly strong originals -- mostly drawn from the original demo tape that they submitted as the 13th Floor -- by the band members themselves. The Sloan-Barri numbers are smooth, hook-laden folk-rock "Things I Should Have Said," "Is It Any Wonder," some of it with a garage band edge, and with elements of mild pop psychedelia ("Wake Up, Wake Up") occasionally manifesting themselves. Sloan and Barri's production gave the music a polish that made it thoroughly commercial without entirely losing sight of the band's fervor; the Grass Roots, only a few months out of playing bowling alleys, rose to the occasion in the singing and the basic playing, but they were also in the hands of two producers who knew how to add such embellishments as an unobtrusive harpsichord or flute over a garage band workout like "Tip of My Tongue," and who also took full advantage of stereo separation. The latter made this album a real treat for the fans, who bought it and got to hear the playing by Sloan (who contributed some guitar), Creed Bratton, and Warren Entner, and the singing by all of them (especially on "Is It Any Wonder") in vivid detail. Also surprising are the group originals, such as Entner and Bratton's "Beatin' Round the Bush" and Bratton's rocking "House of Stone," each of which is a match musically for most of the Sloan-Barri numbers. Admittedly, the lyrics on Sloan and Barri's songs are somewhat more sophisticated than those on most of the group originals, but the simpler words on the latter firm up this album's rock & roll credentials. The CD reissue has decent sound and is worth tracking down as one of the last examples of 1960s commercial folk-rock."

Honeybus
Story (1970)

The story of Honeybus is almost a cautionary tale. Considering that most have never heard of them, it's amazing to ponder that they came very close, in the eyes of the critics, to being Decca Records' answer to the Rubber Soul-era Beatles. The harmonies were there, along with some catchy, hook-laden songs and usually tastefully overdubbed brass and violins. The pop sensibilities of Honeybus' main resident composers, Pete Dello and Ray Cane, were astonishingly close in quality and content to those of Paul McCartney and the softer sides of John Lennon of that same era. What's more, the critics loved their records. Yet, somehow, Honeybus never got it right; they never had the right single out at the proper time, and only once in their history did they connect with the public for a major hit, in early 1968. Their best known lineup consisted of Pete Dello (vocals, keyboards, guitar), Ray Cane (vocals, bass, keyboards), Colin Hare (rhythm guitar, vocals), and Pete Kircher (drums, vocals), with Dello and Cane writing most of their songs.