Duran Duran
Liberty

THE REVIEW

In mid-1989 John Taylor, the charismatic bassist always balancing between rock, funk, and experimentation, realized that for the group to express its full potential, it needed to return to a five-member count. "Notorious" (1986) and "Big Thing" (1988) had forced him, Simon Le Bon, and Nick Rhodes to reduce the project to a trio. Andy Taylor, the historic guitarist, still intoxicated by the successful stint with the Power Station, only lingered in the "Notorious" project long enough to enrich the track "American Science," before passing the baton to Warren Cuccurullo, a Frank Zappa school graduate, who asked and obtained the position with a tenacity that did not go unnoticed. A smart move: the mastermind of "Ordinary World," as has become evident, is him. Drummer Roger Taylor simply raised the white flag. He went to live in the countryside, an unconscious precursor of Cutugno's famous song, to rest in the company of his first wife Giovanna. He took it easy: we'll see him again, fresh as a rose, during the 2001 reunion that will give life to "Astronaut" (2004). "Notorious" and "Big Thing" represent the highest point of the entire discography, although the echo of "Rio" tends to wash away this certainty: the sound becomes cleaner, more elaborate, sophisticated, but much of the audience doesn't appreciate it. Sales drop, only Italy seems to withstand the shockwave of dissent and continues to send the boys up, high, in the charts. John experiences it as a (half) failure. Quite rightly, because "Liberty" will sell very little; the problem wasn’t the number of members. Rather, it was necessary to give time some time. Find the right singles, look around, understand where and how the late '80s pop scene was evolving. Instead, it was decided to fully integrate Cuccurullo, who had already been playing with them steadily since 1986 both live and in studio. And on drums? After Roger's departure, they relied on Steve Ferrone (Tom Petty And The Heartbreakers) who, as an inside session musician, never seriously bonded with any project. Ferrone had a free hand in "Notorious," while in "Big Thing" the veiled dance imprint of some tracks necessitated the use of synthesizers (just think of "Drug"). John thought of the "Big Thing Tour." They were accompanied by the lanky Sterling Campbell, talented enough to aspire for a place as a permanent member. John had the brilliant (sic.) idea of hosting him in his own home. Armed with good intentions but little common sense, Campbell had the habit of practicing the tracks in the middle of the night, robbing poor Taylor of sleep. And so, it happened that with "Liberty" Duran Duran didn’t take themselves seriously enough. "Notorious" and "Big Thing" were different but similar: just listen to, for instance, "A Matter Of Feeling" and "Palomino." The root is the same, in short. Pure, straightforward melody. With the "Liberty" project, however, they rocked out, strummed, gave themselves a hard tone but went completely off the rails. Going off the rails isn’t a crime, but they did it without logic. They decided to mess around, decided that the demos and sessions were a real cool thing, but the finished product got lost in the mix, and they were the first not to be satisfied with it. "Liberty" is not a bad album, quite the contrary. Some of the fans' favorite tracks make an appearance here. If you have the patience, go snooping among polls, forums, or on Facebook: "Serious" and "My Antarctica" you will always find among the must-haves, among the favorites of the hard core. Unfortunately, the album then gets lost in too many rivulets and rills. For instance: the carefree "Violence of summer," a lead single, is one thing. But then, let’s give ourselves a tone, I say. The boys outline with "Liberty" (the track), which would have deserved better airplay. Enjoyable, excellently harmonized, it flows smoothly. Some will start grimacing at "Hothead," over three minutes of samples, rap, and distorted guitars on electric fragments. The track works in part. "Serious" immediately reconciles and involves the listener, even the most inattentive: the track is melodic, never trivial, the guitar riff irresistible. But then, for heaven's sake. What is "All Along The Water" for? Why include it in a worthy track list? To ruin it? To kill the finished product? Seventeen years have passed, but I still don’t have the answer. "My Antarctica" is the missed single, the swan song of the album, the pink apostrophe. I think I made my point clear. One turns over the cassette hopeful (because I have my years, yes, and "My Antarctica" closed side A, ed.) and starts grumbling again. Oh my: if the instrumentalists know how to play, and in this Duran are second to none, one doesn’t say "what crap." But it's not enough to put notes and chords in sequence and go for it. It's not enough to capture ear and consensus. "First Impression" (Cuccurullo a couple of years later will rework it and extract the wonderful "Come Undone," ed.), "Read My Lips" (the chorus is there, it could be worked on: too bad it's only proposed twice), "Can You Deal With It" (such a cute intro), "Venice Drowning," "Downtown": all shallow tracks, where Simon searches (without ever finding) a macerated sensuality, and each of the other members seems to try to want to overshadow the companions with their own instrument. The amalgamation is never cohesive, most of the time it’s inconclusive to the point of becoming pathetic. Oh: the Japanese edition thought it wise to reward the buyer with an additional gem (so to speak), the malus...sorry, the bonus track "Yo Bad Azizi." God save us. However, fans, as we know, always have to set trends. So, in 1999, "Didn’t anybody tell you" magically appears online, the bootleg with the demos and tracks that did not find a place in the definitive edition, and is immediately labeled a masterpiece. It’s not so: simply, the sound is rough, and the intonation uncertain, just like it happens to the vast majority of bootlegs, but I assure you, no alchemy and no unfinished business. And in any case, no. Don’t make the mistake of considering "Liberty" an abortive work, to pass over it. There’s something good, and that good must be safeguarded, put in a treasure chest. Because it’s the path that leads us to redemption, and redemption means "The Wedding Album" (if I sing: "But I won't cry for yesterday…", what do you think of? Exactly). If you already have it, dust off the "Liberty". If you don’t have it, buy it. You can easily buy it, pay little for it, on various auction websites or online stores. Happy listening.