Journey
Journey

THE REVIEW

Many musical entities have given their best in their debut albums, bolstered by expectations, ambitions, novelty, spontaneity, years and years of amassing ideas and experience. It happened (just to name a few) with Doors, Boston, America, Hendrix, King Crimson, Oldfield, Pastorius, Pearl Jam, Van Halen, even Led Zeppelin for those who like.

But for the Journey from San Francisco, California, definitely not... they had to undergo a slow and determined evolution, characterized by an impersonal and uncertain beginning, which lasted for a few years and albums, and fortunately for them, followed by a couple of decisive leaps towards specificity and excellence, supported by clever lineup changes, heralding abundant fame and success, able to grant them a precise place in the evolution of rock and to organize the rest of their career in the name of conservatism and repetitiveness of what was painstakingly refined.

This debut work (we are in 1975) is really poor in content, lacking direction, pretentious. The band was put together by two exiles from the Santana group, following the release of the fourth album "Caravanserai" and the related tour, having resigned because both were unhappy with the new mystical and jazz-influenced (indeed boring) direction taken by the Mexican leader: I'm referring to the very young guitarist Neal Schon (who was already with Santana at sixteen) and the keyboardist and singer Gregg Rolie.

The almost seven minutes of the initial “Of A Lifetime” pass monotonously, in the cyclical interplay of only three chords, with changes that are dynamic and never harmonic, pretentious and interminable guitar solos by the youngster, and so-so vocal performances by good old Rolie. The following ballad “In The Morning Day” is more structured and contained, marked by the piano and then evolving into an intense instrumental tail, a vehicle for the twists of Gregg's darting Hammond organ.

With the instrumental “Kohoutek” (a comet that in those years was passing near our solar system) we are at pure progressive: changes of time and atmosphere, rhythmic unisons, various virtuoso displays, duels between guitar and minimoog... all extremely competent, but nothing more.

The short “To Play Some Music” plays the up-tempo vaguely funky and accessible card, with Schon also engaging the talk box, a gadget in vogue at the time designed to modulate the guitar sound directly with the mouth. The episode serves as an interval because then the quintet plunges back into another abundant instrumental called “Topaz” (we’re already there with suggestive titles, if nothing else), which also leaves much to be desired despite drummer Aynsley Dunbar's great efforts and the still nineteen-year-old guitarist Neal Schon somewhat mimicking the phrasing and sounds of his mentor Carlos Santana too much.

The last two contributions, both slow and atmospheric episodes, also fail to improve the situation, loading themselves with distortions and pretentious displays of heavy rock, amidst long rolls and Hammond blasts. Many things are still missing... above all, a lead singer of substance, then the still nineteen-year-old Schon should complete his formation and start associating his already remarkable dexterity, as an enfant prodige, to those solid musicality and characteristics that will come in a few years. What is also missing is a less blues-influenced composer who expands the horizon and makes it very accessible even to people who are by all appearances far from hard rock, progressive, fusion, and music solely for musicians like what is performed in this work. Finally, a more powerful drummer less progressive and jazz-oriented than good Dunbar is needed... this element will also arrive, even more, later on to finally square the circle.

Thus, this is a record for only completists, die-hard fans, and the curious.