Never Met A Dog (That Took to Me)

Hey Zoo Freaks, it's your laid-back Zoo Crew DJs, easing the needle onto that surreal blues-funk ramble "Never Met A Dog (That Took to Me)" by Vinegar Joe, plucked fresh from their 1972 debut album on Island Records. Feel those quirky lyrics twist like a dream haze—borrowing pennies for a leek, freaking out the dustman like a hippie on a bad trip, and that howling hook about never meeting a dog that took to you, all fueled by Elkie Brooks' wildcat shriek and Robert Palmer's silky smooth glide over punchy horns and chugging riffs. As Elkie shared in a Louder interview, their R&B edge was "so rough you could sand floors with it," and this six-minute epic embodies that raw spark, turning everyday oddities into a soulful rant that fans cherish as a pre-solo Palmer gem. Pete Gage, the band's guitar and piano maestro, described the sessions as "meat and potatoes stuff" in the same chat, but Elkie's fierce delivery elevated it to something truly electric, a track that sneaks into "dog-themed" playlists like a sly underdog.

Here's a nugget of trivia to chew on: This deep cut never chased single status, yet it barks its way into modern mixes, popping up in X conversations where rock lovers geek out over its Wet Willie-meets-Foghat groove. One fan in a July 2025 thread on dog-titled songs swore, "If you haven’t heard it, you’re missing out," tagging Robert Palmer's early fire, while another in March '25 praised its "very 70s, very bluesy rock with nice, funky bass and horns" during a monthly music challenge. Radio Rock UK keeps the flame alive, spinning it on air with posts hyping the progressive rock vibe, and a Pistols to Pulp show in January '25 called out a listener request for its euphoric energy. Over on forums like Steve Hoffman, threads rave about the Old Grey Whistle Test performance from '73, where crowds went wild as Elkie and Robert traded lines, dubbing it "the ultimate misfit anthem" that captures their sweat-drenched live magic the studio only hinted at. Even John Peel nodded to the band in 2003, though he quipped they suited Bob Harris' smoother tastes—proof this quirky beast from a fleeting three-album run still hunts down new ears.

Speaking of the hunt, Vinegar Joe brewed up in late 1971 London's foggy underbelly, rising from the smoldering remains of Dada—a sprawling 12-piece Stax-soul jazz-rock fusion outfit that unleashed one album in 1970, anchored by Elkie Brooks' gypsy-soul vocals and Pete Gage's guitar-piano sorcery. Atlantic Records chief Ahmet Ertegun scooped them after a blistering US tour, but the big-band budget blues hit hard, so he flipped them to Island's Chris Blackwell with a mandate: pare it down, crank the grit. In stepped Robert Palmer, hot off the Alan Bown Set, to co-front with Elkie right after Dada's wax hit shelves, cementing the core alongside bassist Steve York, keys duo Dave Thompson and Tim Hinkley, and a drummer merry-go-round—Phil Collins auditioned and washed out before Conrad Isidore, Rob Tait, and Keef Hartley manned the kit for the debut.

Blackwell slapped on the name Vinegar Joe, inspired by WWII's sharp-tongued General Stilwell—"a pretty lame, unattractive name," griped Gage in a Nostalgia Central retrospective, seeing it as a poke at his own dry wit—but these battle-tested souls, schooled in '60s R&B from Elkie's pub howls to Palmer's psych forays, plunged into endless uni gigs and festival romps with Rory Gallagher and Sandy Denny. By April '72, their self-titled debut rolled out from Island Studios, wrapped in John Padley's trippy plasticine art, but as Elkie mused in band lore, "I found my feet in Vinegar Joe... it was fabulous," shedding her flowing-dress days for rock-chick blaze amid brandies and the odd line. Born in the British blues boom's twilight, they hustled three LPs before Palmer's solo wanderlust cracked the lineup in '74, leaving a legacy of electric what-ifs and unbridled joy.

Thirsty for more Vinegar Joe essence, Freaks? No bustling official site in these times, but burrow into the Discogs page for discography dives, vinyl quests, and hidden liner gems. Gather 'round the Vinegar Joe Facebook page for nostalgic snaps and fan yarns that keep the spirit humming. No lively Insta or X outposts, but the true gatherings thrive in havens like the Vinegar Joe thread on Steve Hoffman Music Forums, where crate-diggers trade bootlegs and studio secrets, or the Any Love??? discussion alive with odes to their Elkie-Robert alchemy. Let the funk flow free, Zoo Freaks—may every groove take to you like an old friend!