There was a time when compilation albums weren’t just throwaway budget releases sitting in supermarket bargain bins. They were gateways. Invitations into musical worlds you might never otherwise have discovered.
And for many Deep Purple fans in 1973, Purple People was exactly that.
In the latest episode of my Classic Compilations series, I revisited this fascinating sampler album released on the band’s own Purple Records imprint — a label that became home not only to Deep Purple themselves, but also to an eclectic and often overlooked collection of artists who deserved far more attention than they received at the time.
For many of us growing up in the early 1970s, these budget compilations were essential purchases. Albums like this often sold for under a pound and gave fans a chance to hear artists who simply weren’t being played on mainstream radio. You might hear Deep Purple on the airwaves, but artists like Silverhead, Tucky Buzzard or Carol Hunter were far harder to discover.
That was the genius of albums like Purple People.
And of course, there was one track above all others that made this compilation essential.
The Deep Purple Track You Couldn’t Hear Anywhere Else
For many fans, the real reason to buy Purple People was simple: When A Blind Man Cries.
At the time, this haunting Deep Purple B-side was almost impossible to find. Originally issued as the flip side to Never Before, the single had long disappeared from the shops and the song wasn’t available on any standard album release.
So if you wanted to hear When A Blind Man Cries in 1973, this compilation was one of the only places you could find it.
That alone made Purple People feel special.
But what kept many of us returning to it again and again was the sheer variety of music hidden within its grooves.
Discovering the Wider Purple Family
The album opened the door to a much broader musical landscape connected to the Purple Records label.
There was the glam swagger of Silverhead, whose track Rolling With My Baby captured the raw energy of the early 1970s rock scene. Produced by Ian Paice, the band would later become a cult favourite among collectors.
Then there was Tucky Buzzard and their superb Gold Medallions, complete with a glorious guitar solo that still sounds fantastic today. That track alone eventually sent me searching for original Tucky Buzzard albums years later.
I also became fascinated by Yvonne Elliman’s Food of Love album after hearing two tracks featured on the compilation. There’s still something wonderfully surreal about seeing a non-Deep Purple artist carrying the Purple Records label on the vinyl itself. Somehow it made the whole thing feel part of a larger family.
And that’s really what Purple People represented.
Not just a compilation — but a musical ecosystem orbiting around Deep Purple.
The Magic of Purple Records
One of the things that struck me as a teenager was the idea that Deep Purple had their own label at all.
Yes, other major artists had imprints, but Purple Records genuinely felt like an extension of the band’s musical identity. It gave fans the impression that if an artist appeared on the label, they had somehow been personally approved by members of Deep Purple themselves.
That added a level of excitement and trust to every release.
Over time, I started collecting many of these albums simply because they carried the Purple Records logo. That journey eventually led me to records by Ashton, Lord & Friends, Carol Hunter and later discoveries like Colditz — one of the more unusual releases associated with the label.
The compilation even inspired me to seek out original pressings of albums like 16 and Savaged and rare Purple label releases that I probably would never have encountered otherwise.
Why Albums Like This Still Matter
What I love about revisiting these old compilations is how they remind us of a different way of discovering music.
Today we can instantly stream almost anything ever recorded. But in the early 1970s, discovery often happened through albums like Purple People. You took a chance on a cheap sampler because it had one track you recognised — and in the process discovered five or six artists who became part of your musical life forever.
That’s why these compilations mattered.
And that’s why many of us still treasure them today.
So I’d genuinely love to know:
Did you own Purple People?
Do you still have it?
And did it lead you towards collecting Purple Records releases as well?
As always, let me know in the comments.
Music is the healer and the doctor.
Thank you for all your support
Read and watch the review for Deep Purple’s 2026 album Splat
