Weakened by the fact that all their albums released in the early eighties failed to make any significant impact, Poco decided to suspend their partnership. This situation paved the way for some nostalgic record executive who, in 1989, organized a reunion of the band with its original late-sixties lineup. Amazingly, Randy Meisner was part of it—the bassist who had been kicked out right before the debut album was released, and lucky for him, since a year later he would find himself with the Eagles.
Alongside Randy, returning to play under the Poco moniker are the one who in the meantime had found success with the duo Loggins & Messina, another who tried in vain with the Souther Hillman Furay Band, and the guy who had left his drummer’s seat without accomplishing much else—George Grantham. The only one who didn’t need to “come back” because he always remained with Poco is the virtuoso Russel “Rusty” Young.
The iconic horse artwork from eleven years earlier, which had helped the album “Legend” achieve notable success, makes its return on the cover as well. In short, nothing that previously worked gets left out, and as a matter of fact, this record sells well: it’s their second-biggest commercial success after the aforementioned “Legend” and even produces a couple of Top 40 singles.
But the album isn’t worth much... amply sweetened as it is by various eighties hacks who contaminate the original exquisite country-rock vibe with injections of A.O.R., synthesizers, and pop mainstream of the era. Most of the songs are in fact co-written by talented people outside Poco—an initiative surely imposed by the label, in line with an increasingly frequent trend.
Of course, the record is pleasant, but it lacks soul, sincerity, that joy of crafting your own repertoire and arranging it with your own hands, face-to-face during long nights of rehearsal spent working toward a common goal. The Synclavier, the latest marvel in synthesizers, makes an appearance all over the grooves, and in addition, various guitar and bass parts are played by session musicians. As for drums... well, the job went to ace Jeff Porcaro of Toto, who was everywhere in those years among Los Angeles music makers; poor Grantham didn’t even get to touch the kit in the studio... For Poco’s stuff his skill would have been more than sufficient, but so it goes—apparently George was a bit out of practice.
With all these pernicious novelties in pursuit of a “professional” and “contemporary” result, the work in question sounds uninspired, formulaic, well played, yes, but lacking in personality... “Legacy” is one of those albums that’s perfect just like Belen is perfect: that is to say, it has zero charm, all form.
This Poco reunion with their lineup from twenty years earlier would turn out to be a una tantum episode, just good enough for them to pay off mortgages and afford good schools for their growing children. After the relative tour for the record, everyone would go back to their respective artistic projects, and Poco would finally settle into a cult-band legacy, carried along by the tireless but faded partnership of Rusty Young and Paul Cotton.