Lynyrd Skynyrd
Street Survivors

THE REVIEW

It's 1977 when Texas mourns to the notes of That Smell, with the cover of Street Survivors in one hand and a glass of Jack Daniel's in the other to toast Ronnie Van Zant and Steve Gaines, who died in a plane crash just days after the release of Street Survivors.

The Lynyrd Skynyrd that once were will never exist again.

Even though it's sad to say, as a legacy, the band couldn't have left anything better. From the very first listen, the superior quality of composition and production that Street Survivors presents compared to the band's previous works is evident. Their powerful rock blues tinged with country is enriched by horns in What's Your Name, a song that opens the album with a really catchy chorus and a powerful riff, but also leaves room for melancholy, fun country escapades, massive blues peaks, interludes of pure British rock n' roll, and heart-wrenching ballads.

But above all: the guitar trio Rossington-Collins-Gaines, never too highly praised, reaches astonishing heights; the three always soar high with solos of incredible beauty, free of exaggerated technicalities but full of emotion, rocking riffs owing to Keith Richards but also to good old Texas, memorable arpeggios and phrasings; Van Zant's voice leaves a mark on each song with an interpretation as personal as it is magnificent.

The standout song of the album is That Smell, melancholic and made sensational by female vocals and choruses, and especially by the central riff that starts right after the first solo, followed by the final solo, the cherry on top, splendid, memorable, summarizing in thirty seconds the melancholy of the song: the guitar screams and cries, then flies free in the final part.

Unforgettable I Know a Little, where, besides yet another sensational display by the guitarists, we have a Van Zant who pulls out incredible energy and a piano solo that is perhaps the highest moment of the entire album, along with the wonderful guitar solo of I Never Dreamed, which closes the song leaving space for the album's concluding duo, the excellent Honky Tonk Night Man, a country piece on par with I Know A Little, but less fast, and the finale Ain't No Good Life, rough southern blues.

Hats off also to the rhythm section, perhaps overshadowed by the exceptional quality of the guitars, vocals, and keyboards, but with the right attention in listening, one can better understand the complex timings and decisive breaks of the solid Artimus Pyle, and the bass lines of the bearded Leon Wilkeson, who, even without ever soloing, does an excellent job not following the guitar line verbatim and blending with Pyle's rhythm, sometimes providing moving passages like in One More Time and the spectacular line of I Know A Little.

In conclusion: the album is indispensable, recommended to anyone who loves rock music, to those who love those "damned" '70s and seeks every piece to complete the full picture, but above all, it is to be listened to so that the music of Lynyrd Skynyrd remains eternal and pure in the sky of rock legends.