Live
Secret Samadhi

THE REVIEW

Live was one of the many bands that emerged from the ashes of the post-grunge era like Bush, Creed, and Silverchair, capable of achieving a decent amount of sales and fame during the '90s, without ever reaching the peaks of notoriety of their inspirational predecessors. For Live, these predecessors were not only Nirvana and company but also, and especially, early U2 with their songcraft infused with spirituality and commercial appeal at the same time. In "Secret Samadhi," their third studio work, this quest is evident, but the right alchemy is only sometimes touched, as in the opener "Rattlesnake" or in "Graze" where the shaved singer Edward Kowalczyc emblematically ponders, perhaps inadvertently: "Will it stand the test of time? Or rot like the mission too long attempted?" Certainly, after almost twenty years, time has given us a clear answer, and with this work, unlike with other previous and future albums, Live did not pass the test, lost between a production aimed at creating an overly full and saturated sound and melodies that are empty and sometimes absent. Indicative of this is the single "Lakini's Juice" built on a zeppelin-like riff without ever achieving a melody that gives the song completeness. They are saved from shipwreck only by a handful of songs that are still valid, though not excellent, and by a single gem, "Gas Hed Goes West," a chiaroscuro ballad rich in electric reverberations that, placed at the end of the album, finally possesses a sense of completeness. Three meager stars. Deferred.