Their history

PILOT, one of the great unsung heroes of the British pop/rock scene, promised and in fact duly achieved so much in their short-lived but active career in the '70s. Like many other bands of the era they found themselves caught up in a phenomenon that went beyond their control - a struggle between artistic pursuit and idolized publicity which left them in agonizing dilemma that can be well attributed to ending their career much too soon. Nevertheless they managed to leave four sparkling albums in their wake.
It's 1974 and there's a strange new development in Britain. From Scotland a group called the Bay City Rollers has created a hysterical teenybop audience. The music doesn't particularly matter. The faces do. And then come PILOT, from Edinburgh, and they just so happen to have a couple of pretty faces. They also just happen to have an abundance of excellent pop music, of a standard not heard here in years. Two former members of the Rollers, David Paton and Billy (William) Lyall, left and formed with  Stuart Tosh and the later Ian Bairnson PILOT.
	Bay City Rollers end of 1969 Derek, Billy Lyall, Alan, David Paton & Nobby Clark (from left)
So they're young, pretty and affected by the sudden rise. The tour. Screaming teenage girls everywhere. But still they attempt to put on a show. It would have been so easy just to go on the road and not care about the frills. After all, the audience didn't particularly care. But PILOT did. I remember a show at the Manchester Free Trade Hall. In the auditorium, there were all the symptoms of a Bay City Rollers' gig. What was going on on stage was something in distinct contrast.

	There were four musicians: David Paton (bass, vocals), Stuart Tosh (drums, vocals), Billy Lyall (keyboard, vocals) and lan Bairnson (guitar). Their reaction to the audience hysteria was surprisingly cool. If I'm not wrong, they were treating these raving young maniacs out front with overt contempt. Bairnson was particularly indifferent to it all and, collectively, there was the impression of a desire to stop the foolish, immature madness and get on with the music. It was all very far away from the intention when the group was formed back in Scotland. Teenybop was a different planet. It all started in Edinburgh's Craighall studios, where Billy Lyall was an engineer. For two years, Lyall and David Paton has spent their spare time in the studio knocking out demo tapes. Stuart Tosh was called in to play the drums but it took a bit of time before lan Bairnson could be persuaded to align himself to the cause of PILOT. Bairnson, in fact, was a tough nut to crack. Willing as he was to give the other three a hand on guitar, he wasn't prepared to commit himself to something as concrete as becoming a band member, especially as they didn't even have a recording contract. Even when they signed to EMI, Bairnson wasn't tempted and is credited on playing on only one track on "From The Album Of The Same Name" (1974). David Paton was left to play guitars, a task he handled capably and imaginatively.

Tapes in hand, Billy, David and Stuart headed for London and EMI took an instant interest, signing them a couple of months later. Their first single, "Just A Smile", made little impression, which in retrospect might appear rather unfortunate. The song gave a hint of what was to come from PILOT: good, classy and colourful pop songs. Somebody made the mistake of comparing them to the Beatles, but it was a comparison that really wasn't far off the mark. The roots were the same.

With "Just A Smile" shoved conveniently into the past, PILOT progressed with another song from the early demos. This one was called "Magic" and it fulfilled the promise of their debut, neatly claiming a place in the singles' chart and grandly announcing the arrival of a new force in British pop. Another band making a heavy impression in those days was Sparks, and PILOT accompanied them on a British tour as support. They went down well.

It should be noted too that PILOT's producer at the time was a young man who had just served his apprenticeship as an engineer. His name was Alan Parsons. Parsons and PILOT's career was progressing nicely, thank you, and they seemed inseparable, Even now, with Parson's having achieved the unique distinction of making his own hit albums, the producer boldly claims fondness for PILOT and states genuine disappointment that they failed to stay together.

With lan Bairnson finally dragged into the melée, the Scottish band went on to greater success. In "January", they made more than just a number one single. David Paton penned a classic pop tune that will undoubtedly grace the airways of Britain as each new year introduces itself to a drowsy nation.

They made four albums, all exceptionally good. "From The Album Of The Same Name" (1974) was under-rated by critics, as, indeed were all their releases. Apart from the obvious tracks like "Just A Smile" (mp3) and "Magic", there were other gems in "Lovely Lady Smile", "Girl Next Door", "High Into The Sky" and "Don't Speak Loudly". With teenybop raging wildly in Britain, most people failed to see beyond the pretty faces. They didn't see a uniquely inventive pop group, rich in melody and lyric. David Paton has never received the credit he is entitled to for his contribution to PILOT and one can only hope that now, with the past well and truly buried, the band might be rewarded with just acclaim, belated though it is.

"Second Flight" (1975) was a fine album, good songs performed with beautiful precision by a band that fully understood pop sensibilities. PILOT were indeed the first power pop band of the Seventies. More memorable tracks. "Call Me Round", "January" (mp3), Billy Lyall's "Passion Piece", "You're My Number One" and the tender "Love Is".

PILOT headed for Canada to record their third album for EMI. For "Morin Heights" (1976), they also changed producer, opting for Roy Thomas-Baker instead of Alan Parsons, a daring but successful move. Billy Lyall, hurt by the teenybop identification had by this time left the band to concentrate on producing, writing and arranging, but Tosh, Paton and Bairnson rallied to the call and came up with what I consider their best album.

Not only did Roy Thomas-Baker capture the songs perfectly, but his production added a sharpness to the arrangements that gave further proof of PILOT's talent. "Canada" (mp3), "First After Me", "Penny In My Pocket", "Trembling" and "Too Many Hopes" were among the best tracks on what amounted to their most consistent and fulfilling album. After that, it all went wrong for PILOT.

Stuart Tosh was next to drop out, shortly afterwards joining 10cc. Paton and Bairnson held it together for one more album, "Two's A Crowd" (1977). They hadn't lost their ability to compose wonderful melodies as "Get Up And Go" (mp3), "Library Door" or "Monday Tuesday" but finally sussed that the magic was gone.

Ironically, for all the teenybop affiliation, the individual members of PILOT are now openly acknowledged as the best players in the business and are never short of session work.
Tosh, now resident in New York, continues with 10cc. Lyall, who recorded an average solo album, was a respected arranger and producer. He died 1989 of Aids. Paton and Bairnson are two of the most noted players on the session circuit. They are an integral part of the band that Alan Parsons has formed to record his hugely successful Project albums. It's a shame that Paton still hasn't been acknowledged as the brilliant pop writer he is.
	Ian Bairnson and David Paton (Back of "Two's A Crowd)
HARRY DOHERTY in the booklet of "Best Of Pilot" add. lines from webmaster of PILOT homepage