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The ultimate clamour, culminating in worldwide success, arose from a jingle. A manager from Stockholm asked Tempest, just as those from Ivernizzi's robiola might have asked Raoul Casadei back in the day, to come up with a riff to play while patrons were taking their seats in his venue, the 'Galaxy'.
Some time later Leven, the bassist, casually suggested: “Joey, why don't you turn this thing into a track? I think there's potential.” On the other hand, Norum, the original guitarist, remarked: “Come on, really, do we have to...?”
They didn't pay attention to him: “The Final Countdown” was born, the song, and the rest, well, you know it.
The self-titled album, driven by the single, was a global success. It broke through everywhere, making an impact at a time when the compromise between bubble-gum, glossy pop, and rock reached its peak.
Epic didn't allow the 5 members to catch their breath, and with the echoes of “The Final Countdown” still lingering in the hit parades around the world, they mandated the release of the new album for the 1988 calendar year.
John Norum had left the project midway through the tour, despite the phenomenal success.
“I was tired of the playbacks, of the keyboards overshadowing the guitar. It wasn't our sound anymore, I couldn't relate to it.”
Bidding him farewell with a prayer, the remaining 4 hastily recruited Kee Marcello.
It turned out to be a luxury move: less impetuous than the first but more technical and refined, he deftly led the new companions to the tour’s conclusion and helped brainstorm some ideas for the new album.
And, in the opinion of the one writing to you, it was one of the few positive notes.
“Out Of This World” barely manages to consolidate the band at the levels of its predecessor.
It lacks significant peaks, impulsiveness, and doesn't explore new territories. It is short of breath, struggles. Produced by Ron Nevison, desired by the band for his encouraging precedents with Kiss, Led Zeppelin, and Ozzy Osbourne, it is listened to gladly but re-listened to with the impatience of someone who wants to reach the end.
Let's try to outline the reasons. Haste, as our grandparents teach us, is a bad advisor: recording an album is no exception, save for very particular and isolated cases.
The contribution. As with the predecessor, everything fell on Tempest's shoulders, except for a collaboration with Marcello for ‘More Than Meets The Eye’ and ‘Just The Beginning’ which indeed have pleasant features.
The rest is a poorly veiled deja-vu, a bad copy of the predecessor, a tired projection into the present while winking at the past until it blinds itself.
I don’t like Tempest’s voice; although it's in tune, his approach to the microphone disturbs me, but credit has to be given to him for doing what he could, even more, even at the piano with just vocal support like in ‘Tomorrow’ which candidly closes the album.
It was unthinkable for the album to replicate the success of “The Final Countdown,” indeed it didn’t come close, though it did make an appearance everywhere and generated moderate approvals.
As often happens, enthusiasts of the genre, years later, reassessed the project. The same cannot be said for the band's members.
Marcello, who as mentioned was the mainstay both in the studio and live, reluctantly recalls Ron Nevison’s reprimands in the studio, who, never satisfied, would abruptly interrupt him during solos.
“Sounds too sticky” is the posthumous comment of the drummer, Ian Haugland.
In short, more could have been given, as Morandi, Ruggeri, and Tozzi pointed out a year earlier, adding ‘how to do it I don't know, neither do you’ and regarding “Out Of This World” that’s exactly what remains, an unfinished piece that could have been much more. More polished, more enriched, more in-depth and, for heaven's sake, better remastered by Hard Candy in 2018 which, my friends, sounds worse than in 1988.
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