Many of Deep Purple’s songs are overshadowed by the popularity of “Smoke on the Water,” but they were a formative band, specifically for early Heavy Metal in England. The simple riff for “Smoke on the Water,” being the first thing thousands of young guitar players learn when they pick up the instrument for the first time, may have helped the band gain popularity, but it was also a somewhat poor example of what they could do as players.
Take a song like “Child in Time,” for example. It has this progressive, psychedelic vibe that builds a story and eventually knocks the walls down, delivering a punching face-melting proto-metal sound that you can easily imagine inspiring bands like Judas Priest or Bruce Dickinson-era Iron Maiden.
The band began as a psychedelic group in the late 1960s, originally under the name Roundabout. At this early stage, it was a concerted project of former Searchers drummer, Chris Curtis, who had hoped to put a “superground” together for him to manage. After scouting around England and Germany, the initial lineup formed: trained organist John Lord, bassist Nick Simper, studio session wonder boy guitarist Ritchie Blackmore, drummer Ian Paice, and finally, vocalist Rod Evans, following some 30 auditions for the role.
Blackmore suggested naming the band “Deep Purple” after his grandmother’s favorite song. The members considered other names, such as “Concrete God” and “Sugarlump,” but ultimately chose Blackmore’s suggestion.
During the late 1960s, their first couple of albums and tours yielded some minor chart success. However, working with a label that was going bankrupt and falling apart significantly disrupted their momentum as they tried to write and release their third album. After this period, the poor success of the third album and tour prompted Blackmore and Lord to discuss with Paice the idea of exploring a heavier side of their sound. They felt Evans and Simper would not fit with this new direction they wanted to take the music in, so they parted ways with the two.
After further searching, Ian Gillan joined as frontman, and Roger Glover took over on bass. This lineup, known as the Mark II era, defined Deep Purple’s heavier sound and produced some of their most acclaimed albums, like “In Rock,” which launched them into the UK top 10 and established them alongside the heavy metal pioneers of the time.
“Child of Time” was created during the Mark II era in the early 1970s and serves as a perfect example of the transitional period the band was experiencing at that time. It showcases elements of the sound they started out with, alongside the heavier, headbanging feel that would come to define them in retrospect.
Here, we have a video of them performing the song in 1970 on the English television show “Doing Their Thing,” which was well before the term “heavy metal” was coined. In this early 1970s performance, they adhere to their roots in droning psychedelia throughout the entirety of the song, with a fluidity in the instrumentation that evokes a slow, swaying effect in the listener. The organ takes the reins in a long intro before making way for Gillan to deliver classic late 1960s psych-surreal storytelling through the verses.
This steady, droning foundation hypnotizes the audience briefly before building in intensity. The drums grow frantic, Ritchie adds distortion to the main riff, and Gillan belts out a screeching falsetto, similar to what Rob Halford or Dickinson would later popularize.
It has a haunting, heavy feel, especially for that early in the 1970s. I imagine parents storming into the room to see what all the fuss was about, only to find little Archie and Amelia vibing out in front of the TV, slowly ghosting out with a headbanging and swaying motion to the chaotic tune, which hasn’t even reached the limits that it will here shortly.
They break into a triplet groove—later a heavy metal staple—while keeping the LSD-tinged chaos of the late 60s. Ritchie tears through a face-melting solo, harmonizing with the organ. The audience, wide-eyed, seems stunned as the song comes to an abrupt halt.
Silence for a moment. Should we clap? No, we’re only halfway through. We’re back at the start—did we dream that last section? The music repeats, now rushed and urgent, building to an inevitable, distorted, cymbal-laden discord.
The cooing “oohs” devolved into those primal screams we remember from earlier, before it falls into all-out chaos. The outro is reminiscent of the scene in Willy Wonka, where Gene Wilder sings to the characters on the boat as they make their way through the dark tunnel, while the music and the boat speed up, and his voice builds into an utter, panic-inducing yelling. “We don’t know where we are going!” As we feel like we are losing our minds and can’t take any more, we all crash into that last note together.