Saga
Full Circle

The approach of the end of the last millennium found the five members of Saga well into their forties with twelve albums behind them (not counting a couple of live albums and several compilations, the most recent being “Phase One,” enriched with five brand new studio tracks). They had certainly enjoyed their share of satisfaction, having sold several million records, but at the same time, it was clear that the moment had come to finally set aside certain ambitions for wide-scale success. These ambitions had been cultivated until that moment through various attempts at more commercial and trendy genres, which proved to be entirely unproductive.

He who is content enjoys: it's time to focus and work on their precious and faithful “cult” following, a source not exactly of wealth, but certainly of exquisite well-being, not of true glory, but nevertheless of solid esteem and rewarding respect. So away forever with the pop pretensions, the grunge deviations, the techno inclinations, the progressive metal efforts, and instead, return definitively to the true artistic passion of the band, which is that of the beginnings and the early records (but also of the more recent, great “Security of Illusion,” released in 1993): a pomp rock virtuous yet moderate, brilliant and complex yet accessible.

This restoration towards the first phase of their career is symbolized by the title of the work itself (a full circle, which thus closes and rediscovers itself), by the cover design which recovers the humanoid/dragonfly featured in the first three career records, now twenty years old, and finally by the group's logo, the same used for their most gratifying and best-selling work, the fourth album “Worlds Apart” (1981). In essence, they resume nurturing, even graphically, that sci-fi aura so well-suited to the sonic atmospheres created by the quintet.

From this work onwards, the music of Saga will no longer surprise between releases (except for a couple of personnel changes, irrelevant to the style) and the value of individual works will depend solely on the level of writing, technical performance, and the specific moment of inspiration.

From this latter point of view, “Full Circle” doesn't particularly shine with creativity, settling as a “mediocre” production in the history of the Canadian band, without infamy and without praise. Alongside the episodes most enjoyably filled with sensational guitar/keyboard games, a specialty of the house (“Remember When” at the opening, “Uncle Albert’s Eyes” and the concluding “Goodbye”), there are some tracks that decidedly sound like outtakes or leftovers from the recent commercial/trendy past: “Follow Me” and “Don’t Say Goodbye” have the same polished and elegantly fake atmosphere as “Steel Umbrellas,” the 1994 album soundtrack of a police drama series, while techno keyboard sounds and alternative guitar sounds sporadically emerge here and there.

In conclusion, an undoubtedly decent and intermediary piece of work, an aware step back, almost a retreat into their own consolidated little garden after many trips towards worlds that turned out to be cold and illusory, a pulling together to restart with what they do best and with more heart. On this occasion, the fans adjust and are happily content, ready to be rewarded in the new millennium with albums significantly slicker and more substantial than this. And so it shall be.