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blackdragon123 · 01-12-2015, 03:20 PM

ESSAY V - THE FIVE STAR ALBUM CLUB
FIREBALL [1971] -

‘Big and Bold and More Than Twice as Old…’

What makes an album a 5* contender? Well, in this humble Dragon’s opinion, there are certain criteria a record must meet in order to be crowned, knighted, loved and highly-rated. 5* albums are the titans of any music lover’s collection, and even if you completely disagree with someone’s choice of titan-like albums, it remains the most accurate way of judging the bias, trends and preferences of that particular music fan. Some of the albums we own are what all new albums are compared against. They may span genres or generations, but they remain the kind of albums that simply blow your mind and rouse up your soul each time you hear them. They’re the reason you became a music fan in the first place, and they raise the bar just that little bit higher. Whether it’s a record studded with gems, or one that boasts an overall majestic flow, an iconic sound or an innovative, genre-pioneering vibe, everyone has their own reasons for falling in love with a particular album. ‘The Five Star Album Club’ will be my own small dedication to the personal and social world of music fandom. Tight cha’mone!

Deep Purple are a strange band, and one that only reveals its strangeness on closer inspection. Over the course of their long career, the band have produced nineteen studio albums and have boasted a dizzying number of line-ups and styles. From the early rock ‘n’ roll days of Nick Simper and Rod Evans, to the representative hard-rock Mark II, where Ian Gillan and Roger Glover made their mark, to the funk-based Coverdale-Hughes days and beyond, the band seem to have done it all. They have produced some of the most famous and influential rock songs in history, and stand nostalgically as one of the ‘unholy trinity’ of hard-rock groups alongside Sabbath and Zeppelin, but when it comes to albums, Purple have always struggled to achieve consistency. For such an influential unit, they are only remembered (by most fair-weather rock fans) for three albums, recorded between 1970 and 1972. Deep Purple in Rock, Fireball and Machine Head pretty much sum up the ‘golden era’ of the band, and although ...in Rock is an intimidatingly brutal rock behemoth, which kicks off with ‘Speed King’ and doesn’t stop blasting out rough an’ ready riffs, solos and shrieks for forty-five minutes, its lack of texture and mellow intervention is a thorn in its unapologetically heavy side. Machine Head is an album that has been largely propped up by songs like ‘Smoke on the Water’ and ‘Highway Star’ for much of its career, and despite the fun-loving ‘Space Truckin’’ and hypnotic ‘Maybe I’m a Leo’, it’s actually a rather uninspiring affair. Its production has none of the bite of its predecessors, and it never truly delivers on its over-hyped reputation due to (what I would call) filler-tracks and a lack of ideas. So if that’s the cream of this band’s crop…what does that say of the lesser-loved records? Have Deep Purple ever made a near-perfect album?

In my humble, the answer is yes, and that album’s name is Fireball. If there was ever any doubt about the right for Purple to stand up to the other rock gods of the 20th Century, then this album smashed it to pieces in under an hour. By taking the raw muscle-power of ...in Rock, and filtering it through a more progressive/psychedelic mind-set, and throwing in some country-style for good measure, Deep Purple created the pinnacle piece of their musical capabilities.

Purple have always come across as the kind of band that throw a load of ideas into a pan, turn the heat up high and simply wait and see what happens. Gillan’s presence in the band injects a kind of hyper-activity that is impossible to predict, and his blistering vocal style seems to force Ritchie Blackmore and Jon Lord to play around his impossibly energetic singing. This gives many Deep Purple songs the sense of coming apart at the seams, as if part of the fun is trying to keep the band running together while it breaks free of constraints and becomes a whole other animal. This effect gives Purple a very organic, living feel that no other band has been able to replicate. But the act of throwing everything in and seeing where it goes can lead to inconsistent records, something that has plagued Purple for most of their career. Fireball however is an example of how everything was thrown in and fell perfectly into place. The texture, length, tones, lyrics, vocals and musicianship on this album is staggering, inspiring and god-damned beautiful.

The albums kicks off with the thunderous rock-champion of 'Fireball', its presence signified by the starting-up of the studio air-conditioner (too cool), the song appears to pick off where ...in Rock left off, as a battering ram of a riff is accompanied by Gillan’s faster-than-lightning vocals. Though, unlike ...in Rock, Gillan seems to rein and conserve his banshee insanity, which allows the brooding, atmospheric song to blast along with a more structured, melodic style. The champions of 'Fireball' are Ian Paice’s unflinching drum bombardment and Glover’s helicopter bass strumming, which along with a snappy keyboard solo from Jon Lord, and a rousingly bombastic ending, make 'Fireball' sound like the apocalypse in fast-forward. 4/5* for this gem of a song about the bitterness of betrayed love.

We slink next into 'No No No', whose melody may seem to jar at first, but gradually melts into a catchy, raging list of injustices and calls for defiance, which Gillan spits out with a drunken bitterness, and emanates such primal power that its message becomes infectious and unshakably strong. The song comes up for air with wandering guitar-work from Blackmore, allowing a brooding bass-driven interlude to set up the next crushing wave of intensity (exercising the textural diversity that was missing from ...in Rock). Gillan has total control over his voice here, and allows his growl and wail to complement each-other perfectly. The contrast of sounds is executed with such confidence and style that it’s still a wonder how Blackmore can call this album a ‘disaster’. It’s a 4/5* song and it rocks the house every time.

'Demon's Eye' is the slickest, sexiest song Deep Purple ever recorded. From the moment those fuzzy synth-waves guide us in, the groove is already set, and the lick of Blackmore’s guitar almost speaks as it lashes out with fantastic libertine arrogance. Not even Plant and Page could match the sleazy, irreverent and (slightly sinister) vibes put together by the band in this song. Purple take on another colour (pun intended) in this track, and when Lord’s keyboard kicks in with its crisp, tight solo, it feels as if the group are exploring their sound on some wonderful musical liquor, that even manages to make the listener drunk on its fumes. The song struts, as we all have done on the dancefloor after too many tequila shots. To be able to create such a visual scene in a song with such basic lyrics is a golden skill. Just as Gillan announces, this dancing devil of a song remains,

‘Sly, sly,
Like a demon’s eye,’

5/5*

Ian Gillan called 'Anyone's Daughter' a ‘mistake’, and when I heard that Purple had put on a country song, I was inclined to agree. On hearing the track, however, I was both entertained and amazed at how good this song actually is. Had this been a serious attempt to take Purple in a country-direction, I probably would’ve given up on life there and then, but 'Anyone's Daughter' is a great tribute to the band’s boyish sense of humour. There is a real sense of fun on this song, all about Gillan’s trail through a series of unsuccessful love affairs with daughters of various professionals; it doesn’t take itself seriously, and that’s what allows the listener to enjoy it so easily. The melody in the chorus is maddeningly catchy, and although Gillan’s voice struggles with the accent, it feels much like an interlude between the guitar-heavy beasts of the album. Texture is such a vital part of any record, and off the wall-segments in albums like Fireball give them a live-show feel and the sense of being taken on a journey through the different pieces that make up a fantastic record. It may sound like Gillan is making up the lyrics as he goes along (which he probably is), but the effect is an organic and pleasant one; 4/5*

'The Mule' is a strange track that seems to draw in inspiration from acts like: The Beatles, Cream and The Jimi Hendrix Experience to produce a half-heavy, half-mellow psychedelic experiment. There is a real trippy-ness to the sound, and Gillan sounds like he’s doing a pretty worthy impression of Eric Clapton as the song bubbles into a dreamy, ambiguous (and slightly cosmic) mash-up. Paice keeps the song grounded with his steady, military-like percussion, but Blackmore wanders into space, and the song sits in brilliant contrast with the former 'Anyone's Daughter', revealing the dexterity and inventiveness of this band that never quite let its prog-roots go. Gillan's presence is minimal on this track, but its aloofness only makes its resurgence far more impactful and enjoyable. 4/5* for its genuinely cool and confident vibe.

When I first heard the intro to 'Fools' I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Glover and Blackmore tease us in after that wave of mellow streaks on 'The Mule' and Gillan’s distant, echoing vocals promise more of the same (or so you may think). I will go on record and say that Gillan’s bomb-blast introduction into this song is the most violently passionate, brutally raw and unflinching moment in hard rock history. I remember being genuinely taken aback as he thunders in with,

‘I, can see, what’s wrong with me,
It’s in my head,’

There is such a richness, and constrained energy to Gillan’s delivery of his lines that I never cease to get shivers on hearing them. Not even the blood-pumping freight-train of ...in Rock can match the intensity of this song, and Gillan flies in and out of the scene like a heavy-weight boxer; throwing everything he has into the mix before needing a few moments rest, where Blackmore takes over and settles the nerves before they’re shattered once more. This song is a brawl within itself, and there is a beautiful sense of self destruction within its structure and its lyrics. Lines like,

‘Man, is not, my brotherhood,
I am of the dead,’

are not intimidating to read, but when they fly from Gillan’s lips, they carry all the seething hatred that all the death-metal screaming in the world couldn’t match. It’s a 5/5* track, no questions asked.

The album ends with 'No One Came', which takes all the slickness of 'Demon's Eye' and the anger of 'Fools' to create a semi-comprehensible ode to the life of musician in a world full of fakes, posers and greedy music producers. Gillan’s voice can hardly contain itself, and as it has done for the majority of Fireball, reminds us that behind every reined in line, there’s the animal that assaulted the songs of ...in Rock with rabid ferocity, itching to be let out. Blackmore shoots of a majestic solo atop the stylish, bass blasting Glover and Paice, before melting away to allow Lord to take centre stage. This song truly feels like the end to a live set, the only thing missing is Gillan introducing the band to the crowd. 'No One Came' may be a complaint in regard to its lyrics, but it’s a celebration with regards to its music, and signals the closing to an album that has demonstrated the creative and musical peak of a band that would never again create such a sublimely addictive sound. Fireball’s closer is a 4/5* track, and its short reprise feels like a much wanted encore to an album that I just didn’t want to finish.

Fireball is a masterpiece, and although it was followed by the lacklustre Machine Head, it served as a musical fireball; dropped from the sky to glow so brightly for a short while. Its artwork (though dated) captures the balance between heaviness and tranquillity that makes a hard rock album great. If proof was ever needed of Deep Purple's justified place in the rock-worshipping glory days of the 70s, it's this. It stands as a lesson to the young guns from a band that are ‘big and bold, and more than twice as old!’

01-12-2015, 03:20 PM	#16 (permalink)
blackdragon123 don't be no bojangles Join Date: Jul 2012 Location: Wales Posts: 496	ESSAY V - THE FIVE STAR ALBUM CLUB FIREBALL [1971] - ‘Big and Bold and More Than Twice as Old…’ What makes an album a 5* contender? Well, in this humble Dragon’s opinion, there are certain criteria a record must meet in order to be crowned, knighted, loved and highly-rated. 5* albums are the titans of any music lover’s collection, and even if you completely disagree with someone’s choice of titan-like albums, it remains the most accurate way of judging the bias, trends and preferences of that particular music fan. Some of the albums we own are what all new albums are compared against. They may span genres or generations, but they remain the kind of albums that simply blow your mind and rouse up your soul each time you hear them. They’re the reason you became a music fan in the first place, and they raise the bar just that little bit higher. Whether it’s a record studded with gems, or one that boasts an overall majestic flow, an iconic sound or an innovative, genre-pioneering vibe, everyone has their own reasons for falling in love with a particular album. ‘The Five Star Album Club’ will be my own small dedication to the personal and social world of music fandom. Tight cha’mone! Deep Purple are a strange band, and one that only reveals its strangeness on closer inspection. Over the course of their long career, the band have produced nineteen studio albums and have boasted a dizzying number of line-ups and styles. From the early rock ‘n’ roll days of Nick Simper and Rod Evans, to the representative hard-rock Mark II, where Ian Gillan and Roger Glover made their mark, to the funk-based Coverdale-Hughes days and beyond, the band seem to have done it all. They have produced some of the most famous and influential rock songs in history, and stand nostalgically as one of the ‘unholy trinity’ of hard-rock groups alongside Sabbath and Zeppelin, but when it comes to albums, Purple have always struggled to achieve consistency. For such an influential unit, they are only remembered (by most fair-weather rock fans) for three albums, recorded between 1970 and 1972. Deep Purple in Rock, Fireball and Machine Head pretty much sum up the ‘golden era’ of the band, and although ...in Rock is an intimidatingly brutal rock behemoth, which kicks off with ‘Speed King’ and doesn’t stop blasting out rough an’ ready riffs, solos and shrieks for forty-five minutes, its lack of texture and mellow intervention is a thorn in its unapologetically heavy side. Machine Head is an album that has been largely propped up by songs like ‘Smoke on the Water’ and ‘Highway Star’ for much of its career, and despite the fun-loving ‘Space Truckin’’ and hypnotic ‘Maybe I’m a Leo’, it’s actually a rather uninspiring affair. Its production has none of the bite of its predecessors, and it never truly delivers on its over-hyped reputation due to (what I would call) filler-tracks and a lack of ideas. So if that’s the cream of this band’s crop…what does that say of the lesser-loved records? Have Deep Purple ever made a near-perfect album? In my humble, the answer is yes, and that album’s name is Fireball. If there was ever any doubt about the right for Purple to stand up to the other rock gods of the 20th Century, then this album smashed it to pieces in under an hour. By taking the raw muscle-power of ...in Rock, and filtering it through a more progressive/psychedelic mind-set, and throwing in some country-style for good measure, Deep Purple created the pinnacle piece of their musical capabilities. Purple have always come across as the kind of band that throw a load of ideas into a pan, turn the heat up high and simply wait and see what happens. Gillan’s presence in the band injects a kind of hyper-activity that is impossible to predict, and his blistering vocal style seems to force Ritchie Blackmore and Jon Lord to play around his impossibly energetic singing. This gives many Deep Purple songs the sense of coming apart at the seams, as if part of the fun is trying to keep the band running together while it breaks free of constraints and becomes a whole other animal. This effect gives Purple a very organic, living feel that no other band has been able to replicate. But the act of throwing everything in and seeing where it goes can lead to inconsistent records, something that has plagued Purple for most of their career. Fireball however is an example of how everything was thrown in and fell perfectly into place. The texture, length, tones, lyrics, vocals and musicianship on this album is staggering, inspiring and god-damned beautiful. The albums kicks off with the thunderous rock-champion of 'Fireball', its presence signified by the starting-up of the studio air-conditioner (too cool), the song appears to pick off where ...in Rock left off, as a battering ram of a riff is accompanied by Gillan’s faster-than-lightning vocals. Though, unlike ...in Rock, Gillan seems to rein and conserve his banshee insanity, which allows the brooding, atmospheric song to blast along with a more structured, melodic style. The champions of 'Fireball' are Ian Paice’s unflinching drum bombardment and Glover’s helicopter bass strumming, which along with a snappy keyboard solo from Jon Lord, and a rousingly bombastic ending, make 'Fireball' sound like the apocalypse in fast-forward. 4/5* for this gem of a song about the bitterness of betrayed love. We slink next into 'No No No', whose melody may seem to jar at first, but gradually melts into a catchy, raging list of injustices and calls for defiance, which Gillan spits out with a drunken bitterness, and emanates such primal power that its message becomes infectious and unshakably strong. The song comes up for air with wandering guitar-work from Blackmore, allowing a brooding bass-driven interlude to set up the next crushing wave of intensity (exercising the textural diversity that was missing from ...in Rock). Gillan has total control over his voice here, and allows his growl and wail to complement each-other perfectly. The contrast of sounds is executed with such confidence and style that it’s still a wonder how Blackmore can call this album a ‘disaster’. It’s a 4/5* song and it rocks the house every time. 'Demon's Eye' is the slickest, sexiest song Deep Purple ever recorded. From the moment those fuzzy synth-waves guide us in, the groove is already set, and the lick of Blackmore’s guitar almost speaks as it lashes out with fantastic libertine arrogance. Not even Plant and Page could match the sleazy, irreverent and (slightly sinister) vibes put together by the band in this song. Purple take on another colour (pun intended) in this track, and when Lord’s keyboard kicks in with its crisp, tight solo, it feels as if the group are exploring their sound on some wonderful musical liquor, that even manages to make the listener drunk on its fumes. The song struts, as we all have done on the dancefloor after too many tequila shots. To be able to create such a visual scene in a song with such basic lyrics is a golden skill. Just as Gillan announces, this dancing devil of a song remains, ‘Sly, sly, Like a demon’s eye,’ 5/5* Ian Gillan called 'Anyone's Daughter' a ‘mistake’, and when I heard that Purple had put on a country song, I was inclined to agree. On hearing the track, however, I was both entertained and amazed at how good this song actually is. Had this been a serious attempt to take Purple in a country-direction, I probably would’ve given up on life there and then, but 'Anyone's Daughter' is a great tribute to the band’s boyish sense of humour. There is a real sense of fun on this song, all about Gillan’s trail through a series of unsuccessful love affairs with daughters of various professionals; it doesn’t take itself seriously, and that’s what allows the listener to enjoy it so easily. The melody in the chorus is maddeningly catchy, and although Gillan’s voice struggles with the accent, it feels much like an interlude between the guitar-heavy beasts of the album. Texture is such a vital part of any record, and off the wall-segments in albums like Fireball give them a live-show feel and the sense of being taken on a journey through the different pieces that make up a fantastic record. It may sound like Gillan is making up the lyrics as he goes along (which he probably is), but the effect is an organic and pleasant one; 4/5* 'The Mule' is a strange track that seems to draw in inspiration from acts like: The Beatles, Cream and The Jimi Hendrix Experience to produce a half-heavy, half-mellow psychedelic experiment. There is a real trippy-ness to the sound, and Gillan sounds like he’s doing a pretty worthy impression of Eric Clapton as the song bubbles into a dreamy, ambiguous (and slightly cosmic) mash-up. Paice keeps the song grounded with his steady, military-like percussion, but Blackmore wanders into space, and the song sits in brilliant contrast with the former 'Anyone's Daughter', revealing the dexterity and inventiveness of this band that never quite let its prog-roots go. Gillan's presence is minimal on this track, but its aloofness only makes its resurgence far more impactful and enjoyable. 4/5* for its genuinely cool and confident vibe. When I first heard the intro to 'Fools' I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Glover and Blackmore tease us in after that wave of mellow streaks on 'The Mule' and Gillan’s distant, echoing vocals promise more of the same (or so you may think). I will go on record and say that Gillan’s bomb-blast introduction into this song is the most violently passionate, brutally raw and unflinching moment in hard rock history. I remember being genuinely taken aback as he thunders in with, ‘I, can see, what’s wrong with me, It’s in my head,’ There is such a richness, and constrained energy to Gillan’s delivery of his lines that I never cease to get shivers on hearing them. Not even the blood-pumping freight-train of ...in Rock can match the intensity of this song, and Gillan flies in and out of the scene like a heavy-weight boxer; throwing everything he has into the mix before needing a few moments rest, where Blackmore takes over and settles the nerves before they’re shattered once more. This song is a brawl within itself, and there is a beautiful sense of self destruction within its structure and its lyrics. Lines like, ‘Man, is not, my brotherhood, I am of the dead,’ are not intimidating to read, but when they fly from Gillan’s lips, they carry all the seething hatred that all the death-metal screaming in the world couldn’t match. It’s a 5/5* track, no questions asked. The album ends with 'No One Came', which takes all the slickness of 'Demon's Eye' and the anger of 'Fools' to create a semi-comprehensible ode to the life of musician in a world full of fakes, posers and greedy music producers. Gillan’s voice can hardly contain itself, and as it has done for the majority of Fireball, reminds us that behind every reined in line, there’s the animal that assaulted the songs of ...in Rock with rabid ferocity, itching to be let out. Blackmore shoots of a majestic solo atop the stylish, bass blasting Glover and Paice, before melting away to allow Lord to take centre stage. This song truly feels like the end to a live set, the only thing missing is Gillan introducing the band to the crowd. 'No One Came' may be a complaint in regard to its lyrics, but it’s a celebration with regards to its music, and signals the closing to an album that has demonstrated the creative and musical peak of a band that would never again create such a sublimely addictive sound. Fireball’s closer is a 4/5* track, and its short reprise feels like a much wanted encore to an album that I just didn’t want to finish. Fireball is a masterpiece, and although it was followed by the lacklustre Machine Head, it served as a musical fireball; dropped from the sky to glow so brightly for a short while. Its artwork (though dated) captures the balance between heaviness and tranquillity that makes a hard rock album great. If proof was ever needed of Deep Purple's justified place in the rock-worshipping glory days of the 70s, it's this. It stands as a lesson to the young guns from a band that are ‘big and bold, and more than twice as old!’ Attached Thumbnails __________________ 'Well, I'm a common working man, With a half of bitter, bread and jam, And if it pleases me, I'll put one on ya man, When the copper fades away!' - Jethro Tull Last edited by blackdragon123; 01-21-2015 at 09:08 AM.