The Gates of Slumber - Stormcrow (2013)

The Gates of Slumber’s rise from local act to worldwide recognition rests largely on the friendship of guitarist/vocalist Karl Simon and bassist Jason McCash. Hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana, Gates established a reputation as one of the Midwest’s hardest hitting exponents of the Sabbath school of metal while incorporating a variety of other influences into the mix. Gates, however, stood apart. Unlike many other bands of this ilk, Gates never merely regurgitated their debts in paler forms than their predecessors. Simon and McCash, accompanied by a succession of collaborators over the years, invoked those influences while still filtering them through their own distinctive personalities and experiences to individual results. Their last studio release before disbanding and McCash’s death, Stormcrow, is a five song EP ranking among their best work.

The opening track “Death March” has a massive guitar sound anchored by McCash’s sternum rattling bass and “Iron” Bob Fouts’ casket nail pounding on drums. Songwriting for the band once meant a healthy dose of fantasy lyrics accompanying the arrangements, but Gates’ subject matter changed and, more often than not, grounded its focus in everyday horrors and sorrows. “Death March” namedrops the classic Saint Vitus classic “Dying Inside” and it’s no accident; the unsentimental depiction of addiction and dissolution owes much to songwriters like Dave Chandler. Gates, however, prefers an immense heavy fist over Vitus’ jagged slicing and the riffing leaves you woozy. The arrangement alternates between quiet passages and bulldozing blasts from Simon, but his voice has more than enough lung power to match the volume. Simon, however, isn’t all power and an ability to stay in key – there’s some effective phrasing here that puts over the lyrical despair.

“Driven Insane” has an extended, mid-tempo instrumental section before listeners hear Simon’s voice for the first time. The laidback pace of the early section melodically transforms for the second half and takes on a sharper, abbreviated edge. The riffing has a hypnotic effect you can’t ignore; everything is measured, deliberate, and inexorable. The tempo picks up for a particularly fiery blast deep into the song before launching into the song's final verse. Simon’s vocal melody is even better here than we hear on the EP’s first song, but the subject matter isn’t quite as specific. The inexorable pull of instrumental breaks in Gates’ music shows up in good form with this song; it’s a three piece never missing the seemingly necessary second guitarist because there’s a rhythm section doubling Simon’s powerful guitar at key points. Make no mistake, however, that McCash and Fouts add to the arrangements in meaningful, sometimes subtle, ways.  

If you can hum it and it’s heavy, they will come. “Son of Hades” drives this point home. It builds up an early head of steam before mowing over listeners with memorable riffing, dramatic shifts, and another strong Simon vocal melody complementing the arrangement, but perhaps the most interesting moment comes with the song’s quasi-coda. “Dragon Caravan” doesn’t find the same stride heard in earlier tracks, but features some of Simon’s best lead guitar on Stormcrow. The track changes gears in its final section and invokes an unmistakably funereal atmosphere. The gloom doesn’t clear on the EP’s closer “Of That Which Can Never Be”. It’s an outright dirge submerged in a desperate, apocalyptic mood coming through quite clearly in its vocal, lyric, and lead guitar. McCash and Fouts make it all possible for a final time. This is a fine Gates of Slumber song and many much bigger, defunct bands would like to claim they reached its level of quality with their last studio track.

Despite personal turns, the band’s music remains and Stormcrow is a more than respectable, if unexpected, final curtain on their studio career. It will likely remind longtime listeners of the band’s music, intrigue them with their development, and win over any first timers who love metal like this. This is a small gem burning with a passionate, personal glow.

Grade: A-  

Trouble - Trouble (1990)

I know I’m a heretic and it suits me fine. Hearing Trouble for the first time hooked into me as deeply as Black Sabbath. No exaggeration.  “At the End of My Daze” riffed with the same inexorable force, swung like a mother, and boasted a singer who put an exclamation mark on it with a deceptively soulful yowl and canny phrasing. I rushed out and bought the 1990 self-titled album. Every song scored big with my fifteen year old imagination and deepened my appreciation. It poised the band for a major run that never quite materialized despite Rick Rubin’s production and rating as the band’s biggest commercial success. No matter. It resulted in one of the finest rock albums twenty-five plus years.

Many of Trouble’s best songs are distinguished by melodic riffing. If you can hum it, you’ll keep coming back to it. Trouble rarely develops these riffs at a typical pace, concentrating much more on feel, and achieves their effects through accumulation rather than throwing everything at the listener in one fell swoop. “At the End of My Daze” certainly fits the bill for melodic riffs. The steady trajectory of Rick Wartell and Bruce Franklin’s guitars lodged itself in my brain for the last quarter century ago and shows no signs of fading. Eric Wagner’s vocal mixes the personal with Jeremiah on a mount apocalyptic fervor. The lyrics are elliptical, but steeped in dread and Wagner puts that claustrophobic desperation over with every line. “The Wolf” kicks off as the opener ends without even a moment to breathe. This is much more uptempo than “At the End of My Daze”, but the subject matter is more imaginative and less personal on an album where Wagner’s voice emerges like never before. The differences between this track and others are real.

“Psychotic Reaction” cops a song title from legendary 60’s garage rockers Count Five, but the two songs couldn’t otherwise be more different. The mid-tempo bulldozer riffing Trouble unleashes on listeners methodically charges ahead from the outset and only pulls back some for an instrumental break coming out of each chorus. “A Sinner’s Fame”, the first of the band’s two slower and reflectively charged numbers, has a patient and deeply emotive Wagner vocal, but the real transcendent gem of the pair is the second track “The Misery Shows (Act II)”. It mixes softer textures with the band’s fiery two guitar attack and Wagner turns in a well-tailored vocal drawing the most from his lyrics. There is just an intangible quality carrying these songs reaching beyond the guitars, drums, arrangement, lyrics, and vocals. Trouble, at this point, has brought all of the disparate strands together in a sustained way. The Skull is, undoubtedly, their youthful masterpiece, but the self-titled album is the work of a band reaching full maturity. The two aforementioned tracks set the stage for comparable and arguably higher peaks on future albums.

“R.I.P.” is another blazer with an assortment of well-placed and pivotal tempo changes. It’s another brash and commanding vocal from Wagner as well – there’s a reason why this song has figured frequently into the band’s live set and often served as a concert opener. It’s buried relatively deep in the album, but one of its best overall tracks. “Black Shapes of Doom” certainly owes a lyrical debut to Edgar Allen Poe, but it’s a personal and loving approximation of his language keying Wagner’s vocal. The rhythm section of Barry Stern and Ron Holzner makes everything go here. Holzner’s bass line, in particular, counterpoints the guitars quite nicely. “Heaven on My Mind” is Eric Wagner longing for redemption from a fallen world and his voice answers the uptempo performance with an equal amount of energy. Press from the eighties characterizing the band as “white metal” because of the religious imagery in their lyrics never rang true; the blossoming reality on albums like 1987’s Run to the Light is Eric Wagner’s growing lyrical talents reflected his own upbringing and boasted themes questioning our own lives in fundamental ways. “E.N.D.”, an acronym revealed in the song’s chorus, is top shelf musically while shifting the lyrical focus away from overt spiritual concerns towards the subject of substance abuse. Wagner writes about it without a drop of sentimentality and his vocal backs up the words with an emphatic performance.

It’s easy to hear Judas Priest’s influence in a song like “All Is Forgiven”, but once again, Trouble transcends its influence thanks to the unique chemistry between Wartell and Franklin and how it reacts with Wagner. The band further sets themselves with the uniquely melodic flights on guitar and the extraordinary twin lead attack they so often bring to bear. There are greater glories ahead for the band, or at very least similar peaks, but this album still stands as one of the era’s finest and a creative turning point in the history of tremendous rock band.  

Grade: A

Celtic Frost - Parched With Thirst Am I and Dying (1992)

This is one of the best archival releases you’ll ever hear. The commonly accepted wisdom about Celtic Frost’s eighties run among some is the band peaked early before Tom G. Warrior signed off on some disastrous artistic decisions like the Cold Lake album reducing their reputation to rubble by 1990. To Mega Therion and Into the Pandemonium are seminal albums in the metal genre and still exert a wide influence over the genre and subjective judgments about albums like 1988’s Cold Lake and Vanity/Nemesis in 1990 do nothing to diminish their initial impact. 1992 saw Parched with Thirst Am I and Dying slip under the door as a tacit rebuke to those who might confine the band’s lasting impact to the first two albums. This wide-ranging collection of songs includes tracks from the band’s first four albums alongside assorted re-recordings, obscure EP’s, demos, and outtakes. The breadth of Parched with Thirst Am I and Dying shows off the band’s diversity in stunning fashion.

The album opens with a track from 1991 sessions for an aborted album. “Idols of Chagrin” has a swaggering Warrior vocal, a hard-hitting but strong musical strut, and some interest sonic turns. The song has a surprisingly big chorus hook, but Celtic Frost can’t resist roughing up any hints of commerciality with some aggressively dissonant passages. “A Descent to Babylon (Babylon Asleep)” hails from the 1990 Wine in My Hand (Third from the Sun) EP and dispenses with even a shred of the commercial qualities heard in the opener. It’s a musically challenging piece too with numerous tempo shifts the band flawlessly pulls off. The addition of slightly sinister female voices is a nice atmospheric touch. “Return to the Eve” is a 1985 studio jam eventually landing on the 1986 Tragic Serenades EP and opens with a quasi-fanfare from the guitars before Frost ratchets up the intensity. They are never content taking one path. Instead, “Return to the Eve” comes off as a slaughterhouse musical clinic on how to bludgeon listeners with hammering guitars, crushing mid-tempo passages, and whiplashed tempo changes. Celtic Frost circa 1985 is an unstoppable musical force.

“Juices like Wine” has plenty of power and energy, but the song never really sticks and plays more solid than remarkable, excepting a particularly strong guitar solo near the song’s end. 1987’s “The Inevitable Factor” has a heavy but melodic guitar riff working as its main hook and an intensely theatrical Warrior vocal. Some might find fault with his singing on the track, but it contrasts nicely with the arrangement and the song definitely finds another gear with its instrumental break in the second half. “The Heart Beneath” from 1990’s Vanity/Nemesis rolls out with an inexorable guitar and rhythm section attack and Frost’s trademark penchant for note-perfect tempo shifts rearing its head. The solid spine holding everything together gives Frost a chance to veer off in unexpected directions with raucous, yet coherent, guitar solos and close with a brief, but compelling, coda. The radio edit for Cold Lake’s “Cherry Orchards” memorably alternates Warrior’s vocals with Michelle Villanueva’s voice – it’s hard to hear hardcore Frost devotee disliking the band’s refining of the formula they established with the first two albums as nothing but a knee jerk reaction. There’s a much more streamlined approach and more emphasis on conventional textures and structures, but Warrior’s presence is so distinctive that it never loses a connection to the band’s preceding work.

It’s songs like “Tristesses de la Lune” that garnered Celtic Frost notice even outside the boundaries of the metal world. Manü Moan’s vocal on the song and the neo-classical accompaniment exerts a tremendous imaginative hold over listeners even if they can’t translate the lyrics. Celtic Frost circa 1987 deserved notice as fearless songwriters and performers. “Wings of Solitude” has typically nicely handled tempo changes and lighter musical touches bubbling to the surface, but it doesn’t leave the same deep impact as other songs. Michele Amar’s second vocals are well matched with Warrior’s pipes and they come together quite nicely on the song’s chorus. The 1986 re-recording of To Mega Therion’s “The Usurper” has, if it’s possible, a sharper edge than the album version and the band included this performance on the 1986 Tragic Serenades EP. The previously unreleased “Journey into Fear” from 1985 is a full on assault with an unforgiving tempo and lyrics delivered like knife thrusts. This is Celtic Frost as a clinched fist.

A partially re-recording of Cold Lake’s “Downtown Hanoi” from 1991 follows but it does little to turn an unremarkably straight-ahead track into an unheralded classic. “Circle of Tyrants” from 1985’s To Mega Therion (and Emperor’s Return) is indisputably classic Celtic Frost and still demolishes listeners thirty plus years later with the same white-knuckled fury. “In the Chapel in the Moonlight”, initially recording during the In the Pandemonium sessions, is one of most unlikely covers ever. This tune from the late 1930’s takes on new life under Frost’s auspices and serves up further evidence not only of the band’s wide-open vision but their ability to realize it to its fullest extent. “I Won’t Dance (The Elders Orient)” brings in some backing female vocals and locks in with rugged groove from the outset. There’s a preening, defiant attitude burning off this song and drawing listeners in from the first time Warrior comes into the performance. There’s some real swagger here impossible to ignore. The album pulls from Vanity/Nemesis a final time with “The Name of My Bride”, a direct and lean rocker distinguished by a snarling Warrior vocal biting deep into every line.

The collection’s penultimate track is a 1991 studio jam on Frost’s classic Wall of Voodoo cover of the pop hit “Mexican Radio”. This version of the band turns in quite a respectable variant on the initial studio recording and Warrior’s vocal owns the lyric with every bit of the same authority making his famous earlier performance stand out. The final song on Parched with Thirst Am I and Dying is the previously unreleased (at the time, natch) “Under Apollyon’s Sun”, a title soon abridged for a post-Frost Tom G, Warrior music project. It doesn’t approach any of the musical tendencies of that later outfit, but its relentless grind and tight changes mark it as a stand out from that era in the band’s history. Thomas Gabriel Fischer, aka Tom G. Warrior isn’t going to be hitting the US talk show network talking about his latest release and Celtic Frost are never entering the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Thank god. Parched with Thirst Am I and Dying is a powerful retrospective on the band’s prime and final years (before their later re-emergence) and rates as essential for any Celtic Frost fan.

Grade: A-

BONUS:
Celtic Frost
Darmstadt, Germany
June 2, 1985

1) Intro/Danse Macabre
2) Into the Crypt of Rays
3) Circle of Tyrants
4) Visions of Mortality
5) Dawn of Meggido
6) Dethroned Emperor
7) Necromantical Screams
8) Return to the Eve
9) Procreation of the Wicked
10) Morbid Tales

In .wav format

Celtic Frost Live 1985

Deep Purple - The House of Blue Light (1987)

Nineteen Eighty-Seven was a momentous year in popular music and the world had changed in the two years following Perfect Strangers. On March 9, Irish rockers U2 released The Joshua Tree, the album that solidified their position as a top tier mainstream rock act. On July 21, Guns and Roses released their seminal debut album, Appetite for Destruction. There was a kinetic, aggressive authenticity returning to rock and roll; the theatricality of “hair metal” and 80’s pop was wilting in the face of a gritty return to the first principals of rock music.

Once upon a time, Deep Purple had sounded a similar clarion call that rocked the foundations of popular music. The blistering aural assault of “Speed King” had been a direct challenge to the existing rock status quo and pushed guitar-based popular music into a hitherto unexplored area. In retrospect, it seems safe to say that the Deep Purple that returned in 1985 was not an outfit committed to pushing the boundaries of its sound and songwriting. They were content to revisit past glories on stage and record new material that was often a variation on familiar themes from their past.

Perfect Strangers played it safe and tried to deliver a solid Deep Purple album with production values relevant to the era. Constructed for maximum commercial impact, “Wasted Sunsets” aimed for the burgeoning AOR market while “Knockin’ at Your Back Door” and “Nobody’s Home” is the duo of hopeful big rock singles. Strongly influenced by the production values of Yes’ recent release, 90125, Deep Purple sounded sonically impressive, but one wishes that they would have possessed more confidence to truly be Deep Purple rather than pandering to the commercial trends of the time.

Regarding The House of the Blue Light, there were no promises we would even get a second reunion album, let alone any theories about its potential quality or lack thereof. In a 1987 interview, when confronted by an interviewer who professed surprise that the band recorded a second reunion album, Ritchie Blackmore replied, “After we had recorded the album (Perfect Strangers) many people asked us what we would do next. Everybody thought it was just a one-off thing.”

Sessions for the album commenced on April 12, 1986 in Stowe, Vermont and it took eight months before the album came out. It did not come easily; even without direct references to specific intra-band conflicts, Gillan’s remarks to the press following the album’s release reveal an unpleasant picture of a first class band following apart at the seams. When reviewing each album track for Kerrang!, Gillan dismissed the song “Dead or Alive” as being a “… a pile of shit”. In the same interview, he mentioned hating the riff for “The Unwritten Law” and mocking it behind Blackmore’s back. All was not well for the band’s lead singer. The album’s release faced delays; by September, Roger Glover was at the Union Studios in Munich, Germany, mixing the album, but additional tasks apparently arose. It has been said that Gillan added more vocal tracks and Blackmore later revealed that much of the album had been re-recorded.

Upon release, the reviews from both the mainstream press and Purple faithful alike were unenthusiastic, if not outright dismissive. Everyone expected the mainstream press to thumb their nose at Purple, as always, but despite a strong initial showing on both the US and UK charts, the buzz for the album among fans soon subsided.

The tour opened with three “public rehearsals” in Hungary beginning on January 27, 1987 that were later released in a box set entitled Hungary Days. The template established on the Perfect Strangers tour remained in place; the core Made In Japan set coupled with a selection of new songs. From this album, the band incorporated “The Unwritten Law”, “Dead or Alive”, “Hard Lovin’ Woman”, and “Bad Attitude” into the set, and “Call of the Wild” as an encore in the early shows. “Mad Dog” made exactly one memorable appearance on a later leg of the tour and disappeared. While “Bad Attitude” would disappear and reappear in the set and they would drop "Call of the Wild", the other three songs remained mainstays of the House of the Blue Light tour set list until the end.

While the live performances of these songs are much more successful than their studio counterparts, it remains inexplicable why some promising live songs were passed over in favor of what we were, essentially, clichéd material like “Hard Lovin’ Woman”. Once again, management and market forces were leading the band in the direction of catering towards a specific audience. New, unique material from the band like “Strangeways”, reputedly rehearsed, was lost on any interested concertgoers. Another song like “Mitzi Dupree” could have shared time with “Lazy” in the set list in the same position with entertaining results.

As difficult as the recording sessions had been, the tour fared no better. The band was inconsistent, the sellouts of 1985 were no more and the crowd reaction to the new material was lackluster. The cracks started showing early. On February 20, less than a month after the tour began, Ritchie played “Smoke on the Water” without the rest of the band who refused to play because of a dispute with the tour promoter. A mere seven days later, the roles reversed as the band performed encores of “Smoke on the Water” and “Call of the Wild” without Ritchie in Stockholm. The first foray into America ended abruptly in Phoenix, Arizona on May 30 when Ritchie broke his finger while smashing his guitar. The band would later return to America, but by that point, the bloom was off the rose and any momentum the band possessed had long since disappeared.

In my experience, this album divides the Deep Purple community into two distinct camps. On one side contends that the album is an abysmal failure, an overwrought piece of crap that features tired songwriting, slick 80’s production, and an uninspired band performance, among other grievous flaws. The other camp sees the album as flawed, but not without merit. They assert that the songs for an outstanding follow up are there, songs that, in some ways, are far truer to the spirit of Deep Purple than most of the preceding album.

Well, what of the songs? It is shocking that "Bad Attitude" didn't appear more often considering the live power that the song demonstrates on bootlegs of the era. It is a straight-ahead rocker, the sort that Purple excels at, and Gillan’s vocals on this song were always delivered passionately, if not perfectly, in live performance. It is a complete band performance, even on the weaker studio version. “The Unwritten Law” was a change of pace from the usual Purple fare and an Ian Paice rhythm showcase. “Call of the Wild” is a nadir in the Deep Purple catalog with its crass AOR stylistic touches, clichéd chorus, and dated synthesizer lines. “Mad Dog” is another fine example of Blackmore raiding his own back catalog for ideas, but the execution here is so straightforward, unadorned, and free from trendy production trickery that its power is infectious. The only regrettable lapse is a kitschy keyboard solo from Lord. “Black and White” starts out promising with a wailing harmonica and a brief burst of Blackmore’s guitar, but it sinks into a murky morass of more 80’s production trappings. The redeeming qualities of the song are a strong bridge and the vague hints of an interested Ritchie discernible in the rhythm playing.

“Hard Lovin’ Woman” is a pale imitation of its live counterparts, but it has its moments, especially in the instrumental passages. “The Spanish Archer” is a controversial track from the album that the hardcore Deep Purple fan either loves or disdains; there is no middle ground. It is not a song, per se, but rather an instrumental track serving as a vehicle for Blackmore’s solos. The track is one of the most nakedly emotional tracks of the band’s career and among the finest lyrics Gillan ever wrote for the band. The anguish in Gillan’s vocals charges this lyric about the end of a relationship with real emotional gravity; from the time I first heard this song as a teenager, I’ve always believed that this is one of Purple’s most interesting moments on record. While it certainly is not their best moment, it is a fascinating window into the heart of Ian Gillan as what had begun so spectacularly was now blowing apart in his face.

The vocal harmonies that open “Strangeways” are the first sign that there is some change here. It is a major achievement from the band considering the tenor of their relationship with each other. There is a greater cohesion to this song than many of its counterparts. Each part seems to complement each other rather than sounding like a hodgepodge of musical ideas tacked together and passed off as an organic work of real inspiration. The exotic, slightly alien atmosphere that the band conjures during the instrumental passages is a modern twist to the long established Purple formula.

“Mitzi Dupree” is a spectacular moment on the album that has held a place in my heart over these last 22 years. From the scorching licks that Blackmore offers at the onset, Lord’s wonderful piano, and Gillan’s full on, emotive vocal, it is a brilliant blues pastiche that was thrown together and ended up a happy accident. Some might say that the song is slight and they would be right, but it has humor and is raw and alive.

“Dead or Alive” closes the album with another in an endless array of anti-drug songs that hard rock and heavy metal acts offered during the 1980’s. Even by 1987, the message contained in its lyrics was rote and passé. The song is good, innocuous fun and an up-tempo closer to the album. Purple aren’t giving you anything here that you haven’t heard before, but they deliver it with great gusto; let me caution that statement by saying that if you really want to hear this song, download shows from this era today. However, the studio version does feature a stirring guitar/organ duel that redeems the regrettable inclusion of synthesizers earlier in the song.

Twenty-three years removed from its release, The House of Blue Light has suffered undeserved slights. While the songwriting process certainly suffered from the intra-band tension, the band could still produce flashes of its proud spirit, or provide a reasonable facsimile. These factors, among others, make the album a fractured work. It is, in equal parts, contrived product, an extension of the “safe” approach that the band adopted for Perfect Strangers, a tentative attempt at staking out new approaches for the coming decade, a fond recapitulation of past themes and glories, and overproduced gunk reworked to the tenth degree. Over two decades removed from its release, it remains an essential album for those hungry for a complete picture of this band, good and bad, and who value the legitimate efforts the band has made throughout its career at diversifying its songwriting.

Grade: B

Deep Purple - Slaves and Masters (1992): A Commentary

Slaves and Masters works, but sputters. There is a breathing creativity in songs like "King of Dreams", "Truth Hurts", and "Breakfast in Bed" that builds logically on Blackmore's interest in a more melodic form of hard rock. The vague European sensibilities merge with a pop slant that creates a new dynamic for Purple, but faceless rock deflects these stabs in a new direction and calculated, saccharine ballads betray the Purple sound. "Too Much Is Not Enough" and "Love Conquers All" have so little to do with Deep Purple's original impulse that their inclusion on the album jars out joint what is otherwise a honest step forward into the future.

The fans revolt. Replacing Ian Gillan with Joe Lynn Turner brings the band a younger, more consistent singer and perhaps a more compliant creative partner, but the sacrificing Gillan's swagger and effortless command over the band's classics is a heavy blow. Turner buries the vocals under a thick layer of screeches and squeals that presumably constitutes innovative rock music for an early 1990's audience. Deep Purple is trying to thread a needle. Somehow, the band thinks they can embrace the modern AOR sound, following Aerosmith's example, while retaining signature and idiosyncratic strains of the Deep Purple sound. They cannot.

It works best on stage. Perhaps realizing Turner's limitations on the classic material, the band's live performance steers towards the new material more than any other time in the band's recent history. Conscious of the fact that the faithful Deep Purple audience will resist another singer performing the classic material, the band tries to put its new lineup and direction in the spotlight by focusing the set on the album's stronger songs. Turner excels. In every flourish, every line, you hear Turner just singing and not interpreting songs he is clearly intimidated by.

Unlike other Purple tours, the set list changes during the course of the tour. The band tries "Wicked Ways" on the opening dates, but it doesn't last long. "King of Dreams" is part of the set until the band hits America where they drop the closest thing to a hit song that Slaves and Masters offers; it resurfaces during the tour's final stages. "Space Truckin'" is missing from the set list until the last night of the tour. The band rehearses "Fireball" and the insipid "Too Much Is Not Enough" for the tour. Turner wants Blackmore to add "Pictures of Home" to the set, but Blackmore refuses. The band plays a variety of medleys and covers throughout the tour. They tackle Procol Harum's "A Whiter Shade of Pale", The Beatles' "Yesterday", and Jimi Hendrix's "Hey Joe", among others.

The tour kicks off on February 4th, 1991 in Ostrava, Czechoslovakia. It is the story of two performances. On one hand, the band is a well-rehearsed, professional machine that plays with expert power. Blackmore is reborn. His playing is erratic during the House of the Blue Light tour; the growing tension with Ian Gillan pushes him into limp rhythm guitar work, messy and atonal solos, and refusing to play encores. He is rampaging once Paice bites into his drumming with impressive precision and red-hot aggression. Jon Lord answers every volley from Blackmore's guitar with thick sheets of organ and keyboard playing. The band is comfortable and confident.

Joe Lynn Turner is not. A film crew is present and Turner struts, preens, slaps his backside like a stripper and Ritchie later claims that, in off-stage moments, Turner is doing pushups. Ritchie openly laughs at him onstage. He cannot relax. Instead of easing through the songs and relying on his natural talent, Turner suffocates the classics with over-emphasis, useless screeches and screams, and unwieldy phrasing. His performance of "Child in Time", thankfully short, is much poorer fare. His first public performance of the MKIII classic "Burn" is promising, but he forgets some important lyrics. This remains a problem throughout the tour on this and on other songs. He wants to play the rock star and what the MKII songs require isn't a self-conscious rock star but someone with the amiable self-confidence to trust the songs and not dress them up with cheesy stage mannerisms. On the newer material, Turner is confident and singing well, particularly a hot version of "Wicked Ways".

The tour rolls through the customary European stops. Berlin, Paris, Gothenburg, Zurich, and Rotterdam, among others. The low point comes in Stockholm when a sick Turner, a sloppy Ritchie, and technical problems conspire to produce one of the tour's worst outings. The terrible performance baffles and, ultimately, enrages the audience. Many leave disgruntled and visibly upset. The disaster upsets Ritchie and he considers quitting on the spot. Only a marathon effort by manager Bruce Payne salvages the tour. The country's largest selling newspaper runs a headline that reads "Deep Purple Sink Ever Deeper".

The band recovers. Gothenburg is the next night and the show is exciting. The Purple faithful are as receptive as ever to the core MKII lineup, but the new singer tackling the classic material is not winning over any new converts. The band plays their first UK show in Manchester on March 10th. The story is the same with Turner and the MKII material, but the band plays with explosive inspiration. The new material shines. Turner and the band alike give an extended, brilliant performance of "Truth Hurts". Blackmore leads the band through whiplash versions of "The Cut Runs Deep", a powerful version of "Perfect Strangers" that Turner sings well, and one of the better performances of "Burn" from this tour. The audience is willing to listen and the band makes them sit up and take notice, but a vocal segment of the crowd makes their displeasure known. Turner tells someone in the audience to fuck off.

The UK leg of the tour is brief and brilliant. The band starts playing and, most importantly, singing as if they have something to prove. It ends with a strong performance in Birmingham and a series of shows at London's Hammersmith Odeon. Despite the shaky opening to the tour, the band does strong business during their European trek. Turner is even singing some MKII material with something approaching the confidence of his predecessor; look no further than recordings of "Perfect Strangers" from March 11th and 12th in Edinburgh and Birmingham, respectively.

The band plays their first show in the United States on April 10th in Burlington, Vermont. The unlikely venue for a major tour suggests that the band wants to start small before hitting the larger halls and theaters. Because that is what it is now. It does not matter that Ritchie Blackmore is reborn and that the band, as an unit, is playing better than they have since 1972. A lackluster 1988 North American tour in support of the equally lackluster live album Nobody's Perfect hurts the band's standing. Perhaps the big money reunion tour is an aberration, a profitable nostalgia march across a country that long ago embraces the band, but now sneers at them as dinosaurs of a bygone era. Perhaps it is the meteoric rise of modern American bands like Guns and Roses, the resurrection of American peers like Aerosmith, which helps to disable the band's creative powers. The band scores a minor hit in America with "King of Dreams", but it means nothing. There is a new sound in the air and Deep Purple cannot capture it. The world changes and Deep Purple does not. At least not enough for America.

Poor attendance forces the band to cancel shows. Turner later cites the Gulf War and a chaotic American economy as other factors for the small attendance. The tour lasts 22 days before the band gives up and brings the tour to a halt for two months. The tour resumes on June 24th in Tokyo. The band plays four Japanese dates before playing one concert each in Thailand and Singapore. No audience recordings for the latter shows are in circulation. The band takes a month and a half off before playing again. They reconvene for a series of shows in South America that are profitable and musically exceptional, but sound problems mar some shows and, once again, the band's visit is brief. There is no apparent design to any of this. The band is not launching new legs to the tour, but rather glorified residencies. The band is not promoting this album; they are fulfilling contractual obligations and satisfying an innate to perform. The album is just another record now tension swallows the band.

The final portion of the tour sees the band return to Eastern Europe for one date in Poznan, Poland. Tapers record and film this September 23rd concert and the decision is a wise one for history; the concert is one of the best performances on the tour. The band later plays two dates in Hungary. The band is playing with the same fire they bring to their earlier jaunts through the United Kingdom and the United States. The band sounds musically robust, but the band's personal relationships split into warring factions. They are talking about a new album, but debate rages about the creative direction the band takes from here. Turner and Blackmore advocate pursing the direction of Slaves and Masters even further, while other band members, to a greater or lesser extent, want the band to continue mining its decades-old formula for success. The lineup is taking its time to fall apart, but it is falling apart.

The band plays a one-off show in Athens, Greece before playing the last two dates of the tour on September 28th and 29th, 1991 in Tel Aviv, Israel. Israeli radio records and broadcasts the September 28th show. Despite being the final recording of the tour, the first Tel Aviv show is a microcosm of all that is right and wrong alike about this tour. The entire band continues to give stellar performances of the new songs. They continue to claw and scratch for a shred of the identifiable Purple sound on the older material and the lead singer continues to confuse preening like a peacock for fronting a top shelf rock and roll band. In 2008, Deep Purple returns for the first time to the country after a seventeen-year absence. The Israeli Haaretz Daily Newspaper runs an article on August 14th, 2008 that mentions these concerts. A soundman who works the shows recalls how Turner would go backstage between songs to a girlfriend waiting with a hot hair dryer to refresh and restyle his hair. On the second night, Blackmore storms off and halts the show. It marks the last time this lineup will perform together.

However, the controversy lives on. Is this lineup Deep Rainbow and does it betray the band's legacy? Should we consider Slaves and Masters as the low point in Deep Purple's recording career? There is no simple answer. The live performances of new material are improvements on their studio counterparts, but the material is strong to begin with. Deep Purple is taking clear aim at a modern sound and songwriting aesthetic. Furthermore, a number of the songs embrace the traditional Deep Purple sound. "The Cut Runs Deep", "Truth Hurts", "Fire in the Basement" and, in spirit, "Fortuneteller" are songs worthy of the Deep Purple name. The album is no betrayal.

It is a failure, but a noble failure. Admire a band that, late in their recording careers, makes a gamble for mainstream success that requires a seismic shift in the band's artistic aims. Admire a band that, realizing their decisions are alienating a significant segment of their fan base, nonetheless dive headlong into a world tour determined to win those fans over through sheer virtuosity alone. They are worthy of your admiration and their failure is worthy of respect. They are fantastic musicians and this album and tour are worthy additions to the band's long history.

Asia - XXX (2012)

This is Asia’s finest moment since their debut. The 2012 release XXX stands as the fullest realization of the much ballyhooed super group’s potential for two crucial reasons. The nine song collection contains every particle of the musical energy powering their debut, but it’s likewise informed by a level of maturity that their self-titled first album never touched. The lessons vocalist/bassist and chief lyricist John Wetton derived from singer/songwriters like Joni Mitchell, Dylan, and Leonard Cohen reach their full fruition on this album and they are further informed by Wetton’s own distinct sensibility shaping them according to his personal experiences. There is emotional and musical maturity present in these songs the band wasn’t yet capable of achieving on heir vaunted debut, but they manage it quite artfully here and retain the usual performance energy you expect from these musicians. Few finales are ever this good.

“Tomorrow the World” is an airy, uptempo opener with some compartmentalized, sharply played keyboard runs from Geoff Downes alongside drummer Carl Palmer’s metronomic skill. The real story with this song, however, is Wetton’s vocal and lyric. His singing brings everything together with his sharp attention he pays to the words. “Bury Me in Willow” earns a place alongside the band’s best songs. It isn’t exaggeration to say this song took John Wetton a few weeks to write and sixty two years to live and stands as a beautiful reflection on mortality. The chorus carries it even higher and Wetton’s voice overflows with emotion and Geoff Downes meditative synth lines lacing through the instrumental breaks deepen the emotion. Asia breaks out some hard-charging rock with “No Religion”, one of two compositions on XXX co-credited to guitarist Steve Howe. Downes playing much of his organ contributions in lockstep with Howe’s guitar adds density to the music’s attack and Palmer’s drumming sharpens the aggressiveness of their performance. The production over the first three songs captures the band’s spirit in a visceral way certain to grab a listener’s attention with first listen.

Familiar ground returns with the fourth song “Faithful”. It isn’t a weak song, but plays a little paler in contrast to the first three tracks and, arguably, runs too long. Energetic sparring between Howe and Downes fortunately mitigates those weaknesses. “I Know How You Feel” begins simply enough with Wetton’s voice, straight-forward keyboard accompaniment, and hints of the band’s trademark harmonies lurking along the edges of the mix. One of the album’s centerpiece numbers, “Face on the Bridge” opens pensively before segueing into a fat rhythm section pulse and moving at a slightly uptempo pace. The chorus dramatically shifts gears, slowing things up just enough, and sports more of the band’s penchant for vocal harmonies. It reaches the same lofty standard set by the earlier “Bury Me in Willow” because it is a full band performance – these are musicians playing with a clear vision of their respective roles along with the required talent and chemistry to bring these things seamlessly together.

There’s a lot of musical energy on “Al Gatto Nero”, but Wetton’s lyric mixes welcome flashes of playful humor with his customary personal touch. It occupies a crucial place in the track list because its uptempo rush coming so late in the album signals the band’s unflagging musical energies. Steve Howe’s final songwriting credit on XXX, “Judas”, is a well-written track about betrayal. His guitar provides needed bite to a fine Wetton lyric, but some might hear this as another missed opportunity for shaking up the album’s sound with a harder edge. Like “Faithful”, however, this isn’t a weak track and continues the stretch of uptempo tracks near the album’s end. The album finale, “Ghost of a Chance”, impressively makes a song running less than four and a half minutes into a grandly cinematic experience thanks Wetton and Downes’ mastery of songwriting dynamics. Few bands ever stretch their musical resources in a conscious fashion with such consistency, but Asia is a gifted unit. Wetton’s vocal contributes much to the number’s final effect but, once again, it’s the all-around performance quality setting this track apart from an overall powerful song collection. XXX, Asia’s penultimate release featuring John Wetton on vocals and bass, puts an emphatic exclamation point on the original lineup’s recording history, a little more clearly realized than the first reunion album, and shows no signs of fading over time.

Grade: A

Savoy Brown - Street Corner Talking (1971)

Lineup instability and squandered opportunities sabotage the historical impact of even the greatest bands and artists. It often results in short-circuiting posterity’s judgment and obscures their gems in the deepening detritus of time and innuendo. Savoy Brown’s Street Corner Talking is one of the best examples of this. Once a leading exponent of the British blues boom, enormously popular in the United States, and seemingly destined for great things, guitarist and band leader Kim Simmonds proved unable to maintain a consistent lineup for various reasons and many members departed under a cloud of controversy and rancor. Despite the stormy backstage machinations, Savoy Brown managed to produce an impressive body of work during their commercial heyday and the five piece lineup playing on Street Corner Talking produced one of the decade’s greatest and underappreciated albums.

Blues music runs through the album’s seven songs. The first track, “Tell Mama”, found some radio success as a single and has remained a consistent staple of the band’s live set since its release. Simmonds’ scorching slide guitar gives the track a raucous glow, but Dave Walker’s charismatic and rough-hewn vocals are responsible for much of its magic as well. It’s a memorable opener and the first of the album’s songwriting collaborations between Simmonds and keyboardist/vocalist Paul Raymond. “Let It Rock (Rock and Roll on the Radio)” marks Paul Raymond’s sole vocal on the album and the striding arrangement has just the right amount of impetus without ever overplaying its hand. Raymond’s work on key is the essential ingredient for this, but his burnished and emotive voice confidently carries the song. The blues rises much more to the fore on the slow burning “I Can’t Get Next To You”. The broken soul and binge drinking tone of Dave Walker’s voice works in great tandem with Simmonds’ guitar and Raymond’s keyboard work. The late drummer Dave Bidwell lays down an impressive groove here.

“Time Does Tell” has a surprisingly funky edge keyed, once again, by Bidwell’s impressive drumming. Simmonds has sole songwriting credit on this one, but Walker owns the lyric with a tour de force vocal fueled by varied phrasing and bluesy assertiveness. Raymond’s keyboards frequently double Simmonds’ guitar and adds some extra bounce to the performance. There’s a surprisingly reflective quality in the lyrics setting this further apart from the album’s other fine tracks. The title track is again credited to Simmonds alone and sparked to life by his memorable guitar riff. Blues informs every second of “Street Corner Talking”, but the guitar work and another powerful Walker vocal make everything work on another level. It’s another song that remains a set list fixture up to present day. “All I Can Do” runs too long, clocking in at nearly eleven minutes, but it’s instrumentally quite excellent and shows the fireworks the Simmonds/Raymond partnership conjured musically. Street Corner Talking ends with the blues standard “Wang Dang Doodle”, a song invariably given an extended treatment in concert, but running just over seven minutes here. It’s typical blues laden with sexual innuendo, but Savoy Brown performs it with such lascivious, ebullient glee that disliking it is difficult.

The modern Savoy Brown is a trio act still serving up the same instrumental excellence defining much of the band’s existence, albeit in smaller venues than they packed during their salad days. It’s albums like Street Corner Talking enabling to maintain such a loyal following all these years later and the release still stands the test of time as one of the finest works from this generation of musicians.

Grade: A