Kansas
Power

For the tenth album of the Topeka group, in the heart of the eighties, they decided to ride the wave of pop-metal, class metal, AOR, or whatever you want to call it, essentially the tough but slick melodic rock that was widespread at the time, for better or worse. Kansas executes with precision, class, and a nearly total abandonment of their usual progressive digressions, which had been abundantly conceived and developed with varying results (ranging from astonishingly beautiful pieces to suites, or half-suites, of rare magniloquence and rhetoric) in their first seven career works. The more obvious connections are with the two previous albums, which saw the fairly good, but not exceptional, contribution of the Elefante brothers: John on vocals and keyboards, Dino composing the songs.

However, there are three striking and decisive novelties: the most important is the absence, unprecedented for Kansas, of the violin, an instrument that always makes a difference in rock due to its unique and impactful nature, though its presence is quite predictable and expected in classical music. The consequence is an obvious depersonalization of their sound, still unique maybe for fans and connoisseurs, but definitely much more aligned with the prevailing hard rock forms of those years, as listed at the start of the review.

The second is the recruitment of Steve Morse as the lead guitarist, replacing the departing founder (and main composer) Kerry Livgren. The blonde six-string virtuoso had long aspired to make his mark on a major global hard rock scene, stepping out of his fusion dimension to finally collaborate with a great vocalist. This desire would come to pass in a far more sensational way later, in the nineties, with his permanent entry into Deep Purple.

But even with Kansas, the eclectic guitarist achieves his goal, thanks to the third novelty: the return of the group's unparalleled original frontman, the intense singer (and keyboardist) Steve Walsh, still in great shape (he would have throat issues in the nineties and his passionate interpretive style would then have to forgo a certain range of high notes, also becoming somewhat raspier).

The album in question is traversed by various inspirational currents, resulting in a very varied and multifaceted work. The main source can obviously be defined as "Kansas meet Dixie Dregs" (the latter, for those who might not know, is the funky-rock-jazz-country instrumental quintet with which Steve Morse had been making albums and concerts up to that point). The collaboration between the virtuoso instrumentalist and the gifted singer works: Morse's typical guitar themes, intricate and delightful but honestly rather cold and didactic within the Dixie Dregs, gain warmth and find completion when complemented by Walsh's spirited verses and corresponding fiery choruses.

Among the tracks illustrating this union is the initial "Silhouettes in Disguise", an immediate showcase for the Ohio's pyrotechnic guitarist who unleashes heart-stopping alternate picking here and there, before exploding into a final solo literally unplayable by anyone, though suitably faded out by the producer, so as not to turn what is a successful hard rock piece into an aesthetic jam session. Other moments in this vein include "We're Not Alone Anymore", "Musicatto", and "Three Pretenders".

A different inspiration connects some tracks that can be defined as "pure Kansas", despite the absence of the violin. Here Morse remains unobtrusive and participates in a less invasive manner, giving the right touches and allowing some exposure to the other guitarist of the group, the far less talented (in terms of talent and... vision: he is sight-impaired) Rick Williams. The songs tied to this scheme are first and foremost the one that titles the album, a well-done melodic rock with very dynamic rhythm and a very catchy refrain; then the powerful "Secret Service" which advances syncopated in a military march step and is traversed by pompous desires and progressive time changes as per this band's best tradition; finally, one of the peaks of the album (and of Kansas' production in general), the closing "Can't Cry Anymore".

To love this track, one must possess a taste for pomp, the redundant, the thundering, in short, one must appreciate Kansas in their deepest sense. It is a cover of a lesser-known American band called "The Producers"; Steve Walsh, more fired up than ever by the presence of a powerful orchestra (recorded in the legendary Abbey Road Studio A), makes it his own with a performance at the extreme limits of his abilities: there are no tricks and no deceptions, a full voice and no falsetto, a real vocal cord breaker (and indeed, it would happen to him, later...) in a couple of fearsome, full-throated high passages, sending shivers down the spine.

Completing the album are some digressions, shall we say, the most notable of which is the single "All I Wanted", a blatant affair copying Foreigner and their enveloping ballads à la "I Want To Know What Love Is". The well-known pop producer Humberto Gatica is even specifically called upon for the task, particularly for creating the padded synthesizer background to crown the singer's impetuous and romantic voice.

Another digression is the acoustic "Taking In The View", yet another showcase for the eclectic Morse, a luminary even with the amplifier off. His barehanded touch on the acoustic strings is superior, Walsh enhances it with a beautiful melody, and the cherry on top is a children's choir in the refrain, reminiscent of "Another Brick in The Wall part II".

"Power" is one of the most accessible Kansas albums, particularly for those who do not love suites and typical progressive rambling. A fine example of eighties rock, before grunge and alternative took away the good (albums like this, for instance) and the bad (the bleached big hair, macho poses, tights, idiotic solos with billions of notes per second, banal stadium choruses, etc. etc.).