Deep Purple
Bananas

THE REVIEW

Before tackling yet another chapter of the Purple saga, it is legitimate to ask: what reason does a band on the verge of a forty-year career have to continue releasing albums lacking in bite and far from the works that made them iconic? Moreover, since they are not the band of the moment, we cannot even hypothesize a contractual obligation, given that this is a band that, despite having an innumerable amount of masterpieces behind them, does not currently constitute a significant element for the music market. Unfortunately, we cannot offer a satisfactory answer, but after leaving you with this dark dissertation, let's begin to analyze this album with the eccentric title: the opening is entrusted to the explosive "House of Pain," a carefree hard rock piece closer to the Aerosmith of yesteryear rather than the "purple" we know: the central bridge is enriched by an inspired solo from Morse, a guitarist with an expressiveness out of the ordinary, capable of uplifting even the least successful compositions. The following "Sun Goes Down" echoes the dark atmospheres of historical tracks such as "Bloodsucker" and "Perfect Strangers," simplifying their structure and flattening their emotional peaks: the result is pleasant but certainly not memorable.

With "Haunted," the band surprises us by presenting an elegant display of inspired class, revealing a particular skill in crafting ballads, a type of song never sufficiently valued in the group's history: this solution, whether for stylistic choice or to spare vocal efforts for an aging Gillan, will prove to be the winning card of this album.
The subsequent "Silver Tongue," "Razzle Dazzle," and "Pictures Of Innocence" are pure episodes of musical craftsmanship, simple and captivating frameworks on which to showcase Morse's guitar elegance and the class of the new recruit Don Airey on keyboards, replacing the legendary Jon Lord.
Even "Never a Word" and "Doing It Tonight" are as pleasant as they are lacking in impact, both demonstrations of musical versatility, unfortunately not supported by a convincing structure.
"Walk On" deserves special mention, a blues with melodic accents that closely recalls the melancholy of a poignant "Wasted Sunsets": Ian Gillan delivers one of his most heartfelt interpretations, deviating from his usual timbres to favor an unexpectedly “Coverdalian” style, thus enhancing the melodic context of the piece.
The title track, a rock number performed in irregular time with progressive digressions, does not stray from the group's usual stylistic canons, resulting in a commendable outcome, even if not illuminating as the flagship song of an album.

Thus, "Bananas," like many of the publications from Deep Purple over the last fifteen years, adds nothing to the artistic journey they embarked upon in the now Jurassic 1968, confirming the technical skill and grit of a band that has said much in the history of rock, but perhaps has tried to say more than necessary.
"Bananas" proves to be a well-done work by a band that has little left to communicate but does so with a lot of class.