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After ten years of statements, waiting, accusations, and denials, the Deep Purple, cult band of hard rock, finds itself in Malibu to achieve the long-awaited comeback: “They offered us a two million dollar advance and we started working,” declares Ian Gillan, the historic voice of the quintet.
Despite the premises, the band, masterfully led by an inspired Blackmore, creates one of the finest albums of its production, second only to the unreachable “Machine Head” and “In Rock.” Maybe the album doesn't feature the iconic tracks that have made the group's history or masterpieces that make one scream in amazement, but it is a successful album from a great band that knows it can count on a legendary and enviable past.
The crescendo opening with the unparalleled “Knockin’ at Your Back Door” is one of the most compelling since the golden times, with a Jon Lord over the top, crafting suggestive musical plots, emphasized by Gillan's knowing lyrics, who moves away from his customary exasperated timbres to become a chansonier of great skill; “Under the Gun” maintains the same straightforward musical taste, closely followed by the fiery hard rock of “Nobody’s Home,” suspended between glam and the more radio-friendly Rainbow.
The subsequent “Mainsteak,” where Gillan enjoys himself with licentious double entendres, momentarily lowers the album's qualitative register, offering a tired and unoriginal rock, as will also be “Not Responsible,” presenting a glimpse of what the Deep Purple of the '90s will be.
“Perfect Strangers,” the most successful track of the work, is, in all respects, one of the group's last classics: after a dark introduction, the instruments enter with a martial theme to depict decadent scenarios. The entire structure of the track is played on Blackmore's imperious riff, moderating virtuoso excesses and providing a performance full of passionate musical taste. The level remains high with the unleashed rock ‘n’ roll of “Gipsy’s Kiss,” though guilty of recycling some ideas from the latest Rainbow, which will become a haunting presence in many parts of the album, given Blackmore's evident influence over the group's writing process.
“Wasted Sunsets,” introduced by an inspired guitar phrasings, calls to mind the dramatic atmospheres of “When a Blind Man Cries” or the delicate laments of “Soldier of Fortune,” where voice and guitar chase each other painfully in the twists of troubled rock-blues. A masterpiece by the Purple, unfortunately never performed live. The following “Hungry Daze” doesn't add much to the already described episodes, being attractive enough to fully earn its place in the group's must-have repertoire, even if the structure revisits already known compositional clichés.
“Perfect Strangers” proves to be an album devoid of the exceptional insights that brought the Purple to glory in the '70s, bound to the structures that made them great. Nevertheless, the Deep still appear capable of creating great songs, as they will rarely be able to do in the subsequent two decades.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Knocking at Your Back Door (07:04)
Sweet Lucy was a dancer
But none of us would chance her
Because she was a Samurai
She made electric shadows
Beyond our fingertips
And none of us could reach that high
She came on like a teaser
I had to touch and please her
Enjoy a little paradise
The log was in my pocket
When Lucy met the Rockett
And she never knew the reason why
I can't deny it
With that smile on her face
It's not the kill
It's the thrill of the chase
Feel it coming
It's knocking at the door
You know it's no good running
It's not against the law
The point of no return
And now you know the score
And now you're learning
What's knockin' at your back door
Sweet Nancy was so fancy
To get into her pantry
Had to be the aristocracy
The members that she toyed with
At her city club
Were something in diplomacy
So we put her on the hit list
Of a common cunning linguist
A master of many tongues
And now she eases gently
From her Austin to her Bentley
Suddenly she feels so young
02 Under the Gun (04:34)
Infidel can you hear
Would be strange delight
I need you to give your sympathy tonight
When you hear what I say
Deeds I've done
Realize I've never lost and never won
I've got a feeling that it's never right
There was reason, but it's out of sight
It's going down somewhere tonight
Under the gun
Put death in my hand
Learn to fight
Who could care if it's wrong or if it's right?
We got no choice
Under command
We're ordered to die or take this land
Stupid bastards and religious freaks
So safe in their castle keeps
They turn away as a mother weeps
Under the gun
When brave men fall
Under crimson skies
There's a sadness reflected in a soldier's eyes
Tears will dry
For those I kill
Remember no more their names but someone will
The only way to be victorious
Screw the fools who think it's glorious
Who gives a toss about the likes of us
Under the gun
04 Mean Streak (04:20)
She come home last night, rotten rolling drunk
She talk no sense, but she sound good so she think
So I reached over and said Hello
Is there some planet you'd care to go
And she said Venus on the rocks
She got a mean streak
Black Mamba don't compete
She got a mean streak
Temptation bitter sweet
She drives me crazy, gets inside my brain
She spend my money down a drain
So I roll over for my reward
How much can I afford?
And she says
Just a little more
I can't take this no more
I tried so hard, but I can't get thru the door
Because one smile from those eyes
And I stand there paralyzed
And she says
Beg for more, get down sucka, you know what I like
Oh hang on.
05 Perfect Strangers (05:21)
Can you remember remember my name
As I flow through your life
A thousand oceans I have flown
And cold, cold spirits of ice
All my life
I am the echo of your past
I am returning the echo of a point in time
and distant faces shine
A thousand warriors I have known
And laughing as the spirits appear
All your life
Shadows of another day
And if you hear me talking on the wind
You've got to understand
We must remain
Perfect strangers
I know I must remain inside this silent well of sorrow
A strand of silver hanging through the sky
Touching more than you see
The voice of ages in your mind
Is aching with the dead of the night
Precious life, your tears are lost in falling rain
And if you hear me talking on the wind
You've got to understand
We must remain
Perfect strangers
06 A Gypsy's Kiss (05:12)
John San what you can
La la Janette dance in sand
What's the mystery, my son?
Gypsy Dan Caravan
Won Tun Wan with your Chinese fan
It's part of history my son
Murder and rape with your power
The 10th revolution in far away days
It's come to this
A gypsy's kiss
All your power's gonna fade in the haze
Ya who' Jumme gae bile ya heed
The Senorita said
I'll drag your lungs out through your nose
Space truckers free and high
Teamsters get you by and by
That should keep you on your toes
They got a gun at your head
But you ain't necessarily playing their game
They can't resist
A Gypsy's Kiss
All that's needed to drive them insane
John Wayne, the Alamo
Crazy Horse, Geronimo
I'll smoke a piece with you
Mind, body heart and soul
We got rock and roll
And there's nothing they can do
Hear the small voice of truth
Above the shouting despair of the crowd
What do you wish
A Gypsy's Kiss?
Gets you strong for crying out loud.
07 Wasted Sunsets (03:57)
the day is gone when the angels come to stay
and all the silent whispers will be blown away
lying in the corner, a pair of high-heel shoes
hanging on the wall, gold and silver for the blues
one too many wasted sunsets
one too many for the road
and after dark, the door is always open
hopin' someone else will show
someone is waiting behind an unlocked door
grey circle's overhead, empty's on the floor
the cracks in the walls have grown too long
the slow hand is dragging on, afraid to meet the dawn
one too many wasted sunsets
one too many for the road
and after dark, the door is always open
hopin' someone else will show
08 Hungry Daze (04:56)
In a dark and sweaty room in '69, tables turning
Dancing girls, silly girls, all kinds of girls and it was loud
Tuning up to madness in the back room, candles burning
Present the Stinking Hippy and throw the naked thunder to the crowd
In the Hungry Days
The long and lonely highway drags along, it's going nowhere
Sickness and disease and mad corruption, something's going wrong
The mountain's getting cold and lonely, the trees are bare
We all came out to Montreaux, but that's another song
You've heard it all before
In Hungry Days
Along the Mountain Road to do some drinking
And now we're mobile again
Different girls, laughing girls, forever girls, and it's so loud
The crew have lost again, they are beaten men
The winning team united, living for the crowd
These are the Hungry Days
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Other reviews
By cliffburton86
The riffs, as elementary as they are elegant, are the supporting pillars of Perfect Strangers.
Perfect Strangers is a milestone of hard rock, which together with Machine Head stands as one of the best studio albums made by the group.
By claudio carpentieri
"Perfect Strangers presents the most immediately impactful track: 'Knocking At Your Back Door', a thrilling riff that reveals solid sounds like those of the past decade."
The new heroes of hard sound chose the English band as their guiding spirit for a sound that was both pleasantly aggressive and irresistibly melodic.
