The addition of the new bassist Glenn Hughes, coming from Trapeze and endowed with a voice with high registers and a ductile and clean timbre, and of David Coverdale, a vocalist with complementary characteristics to those of Glenn and with an important stage presence, had brought a breath of freshness.
“Burn” had sold very well, carrying on the hard rock and proto metal style that had rightly made the band legendary, net of some soul and blues streak brought by the new singers. However, Blackmore and especially Lord seemed slightly weakened compared to their contributions and the usual rate of innovation for which Deep Purple moved the bar a little higher with each record, seemed to be less. “Burn” was an excellent record, made up of some great songs and with the novelty of the double voice, however it marked a certain stasis under the compositional profile.
We arrive in November 1974: a few months after "Burn" comes the sequel, "Stormbringer". The tensions in the compositional phase and in the recording studio - especially between the bizarre guitarist Ritchie Blackmore and David Coverdale - are important; the first pushes to maintain a high rate of epicity in the lyrics and atmospheres, as well as insisting on the hard sound that has made the history of the group. Coverdale often keeps his head on the issue of writing lyrics and - also supported by Hughes - would like to point the direction towards a sound strongly oriented towards soul, funky and black music in general.
The sparks lead to a compromise that is not too productive: divided between traditionally hard pieces and heavily funk passages, “Stormbringer” is a poorly cohesive record and the victim of a design dichotomy that jeopardizes its complete success.
Mind you, taken one by one, the pieces are almost all valid, apart from some obvious slips, however the band lacks a real artistic direction, divided between almost metal songs - the title track - and pieces at the edge of the American AOR (" Hold On ”), which wink at overseas radio airplay.
The result is not long in coming: taking as a pretext the failure to insert a cover of the prog group of Quatermass, Blackmore slams the door and leaves. He will found Rainbow, a band where he will finally be able to dominate as he sees fit and which will get good results, at least initially. The market is also showing itself rather tepid and “Stormbringer” will not completely renew Deep Purple's previous hits.
So let's see how this “Stormbringer” sounds.
The record is produced by the famous Martin Birch, a sound engineer who had cut his teeth with the first blues rock - Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac in particular - and who will become number one among metal producers.
The long plain opens with the piece that gives the collection its title, “Stormbringer”, and which is perhaps the most successful piece. Let's imagine the reaction of the Deep Purple fan who found himself putting vinyl on the plate in that November 1974: probably the reaction would have been that of the most genuine enthusiasm. “Stormbringer” is in fact a piece in perfect Deep Purple style, worthy of the best pages. A tight rhythm section that anticipates metal, on which Coverdale dictates with his powerful vocalism and with Blackmore who gets in with the right guitar fills and with a solo that perhaps represents his swan song within the formation; the sound is distorted and the phrasing is tight without reaching paroxysm. The only drawback is perhaps the too subtle contribution of Jon Lord, who punctuates the piece here and there with synthesizers. A flawless opening.
Unfortunately, already with the subsequent "Love Don't Mean a Thing", our hypothetical 70's listener risks getting the inevitable metalhead beer wrong; driven by a rather light organ riff, the piece sports a trend between pop and funky and an over-the-top performance by Coverdale, all of groans and screams, is not enough to raise the tenor of the piece; when Hughes' turn comes the situation becomes even more bleak, a lopsided cross between Stevie Wonder and Traffic. Not surprisingly, Blackmore's contribution is limited to the instrumental coda, resolved with a very clean sound and some blues phrasing: certainly not what fans expect from the pyrotechnic guitarist, certainly subdued in this piece.
The next “Holy Man” opens with Beatlesian suggestions and Blackmore's slide guitar that quotes Harrison's. The vocal part is the prerogative of Hughes, who demanded more space and not to deal only with bass and vocal harmonies. The result is not despicable and is placed among the almost melodic ballads of the band, not disfiguring but certainly not even doing anything memorable; the almost country refrain sounds peculiar and the instrumental contribution of Blackmore and Lord is nuanced. Gone are the days of guitar - organ duels resolved in endless rides.
"Hold On" continues showing perhaps too much lightness and still the voice of Hughes to be the master; in the chorus one almost seems to hear bands like Electric Light Orchestra hybridized with ZZ Top at the beginning of their most commercial period. Blackmore's solo, with unexpected melodic overtones, sounds much like the homework done in an excellent way but without any momentum; Lord's short organ part only increases the regret for the past: we are more on the side of Steely Dan than on the wild rides of Manzarek and the Doors; times are changing, but a bit of nostalgia also comes now.
"Lady Double Dealer", after three pieces with a high glycemic rate, lifts the morale of the most rockers a bit; it is a robust hard rock with a fast and sustained performance. The refrain with the choirs and the strong melody is a counterbalance but is pleasant. Blackmore, evidently more at ease, plays a solo of his own, complete with a kitschy use of the vibrato lever as in the good old days of the Mk II. A beautiful sustained piece that in “Stormbringer” almost looks like a workhorse: in “Machine Head” it would probably have been a filler.
The next "You Can't Do It Right (With the One You Love)" returns to stepping on the accelerator pedal on the funk. The voices of Coverdale and Hughes alternate effectively and harmonize in the choruses of the chorus, the rhythm is sustained and the result is good. The missing Jon Lord returns to peep with a solo on the synthesizer that certainly does not leave its mark, while Blackmore - as in almost all funk episodes - is definitely out of sight.
"Highball Shooter" opens with a nice blues riff - a bit "Lazy" - and goes on sustained offering a fairly in-tone rehearsal with the more traditional Deep Purple and with the voices of Hughes and Coverdale alternating as always with effectiveness. In the middle of the piece, Lord's organ solo starts, heralded by Ian Paice's drum cut, and it really seems to be back in the good old days. Blackmore's guitar is in hiding a bit this time, however the piece is very successful.
The disc closes by regaining altitude with two beautiful ballads. The first is "The Gypsy", supported by a nice riff and a rocky rhythm that is the basis of an epic melody that recalls certain things from the early days of the band (the beautiful and unrecognized "Hallelujah").
The solo offers a rare Blackmore performance on the slide, where the guitarist doubles himself in overdub; nothing transcendental but evocative enough.
The closing of the disc is up to "Soldier of Fortune", a melancholy ballad with epic themes, unusual in the band's repertoire but curiously risen to a true cult object, covered by various bands, including Opeth and Whitesnake of Coverdale himself.
Opened by Blackmore's classical guitar, the song is sung in a painful and flawless way by Coverdale and perhaps owes something in terms of structure to the beautiful “Waiting Around to Die” by the great Townes Van Zandt, underrated folk artist.
The electric guitar part is very measured and perhaps leaves some regret for what could have been another "Child in Time", if not Deep Purple's "Stairway to Heaven".
In short, "Stormbringer" is a decent record, with some excellent songs and others that are decidedly forgettable, recorded by a group that by now could no longer make up for the too discordant yearnings of the various components with technique and craft. In the mid-seventies the English hard rock triangle, consisting of Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath, was practically dismantled. Page and Plant's group had moved on to increasingly complex and experimental records, perhaps unable to replicate the first four masterpieces; Black Sabbath were definitely turning to heavy metal.
Deep Purple - slaves to chronic internal problems - tried the key to funk, but the facts proved him wrong and, despite the good records, the band - after Bolin's death - will return to the studio only in 1984.
Andrea La Rovere - Musical Wave
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