Scorpions
Lovedrive

Scorpions, Lovedrive, 1979: 4 stars; actually no, 4.5. Let’s make it 5, let's cut to the chase.

The Scorpions played great hard rock in the '70s, solid and compact, very angry, so much so that sometimes they are associated with the Heavy Metal genre; but now, genres aside, we are here to talk about the album they decided to release in '79. Quickly consulting Wikipedia, I notice that the 1979 lineup is different from the mid-'70s (Virgin Killer?): the great Ulrich Roth on guitar is out, and Matthias Jabs is in to flank the legendary Rudolph Schenker: a steel duo. On the drums, we find another drummer as well as another bassist on bass, but I won’t put the names because they would weigh down the reading. The presence of Rudolph’s brother, Michael Schenker (from UFO), is not to be underestimated; he was once a member of the group and scatters solos here and there on the album as if they were corn seeds for pigeons.

The album: it is canonical hard rock, nothing revolutionary, simply beautiful and captivating, like the opening "Loving You Sunday Morning,” which takes shape in Klaus Meine's powerful vocals from an initial AC/DC-like riff; a great singer, perhaps a bit penalized by the heavy German accent that even today he hasn't managed to shake off: the solo is gritty, and the song flows smoothly, it's just pure hard rock.

But the other tracks on the album are just as kick-ass, always teetering between hard rock and what was becoming metal at the time. And so the moments of calm are few, and songs like "Another Piece Of Meat,” vaguely Deep Purple in the first few seconds of singing, or the brief and minor "Can't Get Enough,” testify to their spirit: music that breaks everything, utterly irrelevant lyrics, singing always on the edge, etc. But among the dual-guitar onslaughts, there's also room for ballads like "Always Somewhere,” completely canonical, a song that sets a template for many future Scorpions ballads (Guns 'n Roses know something about it with their "Don't Cry"): the majestic and almost epic chorus is a must for '80s hard rock (yeah, the '70s were ending, darn it…).

An instrumental appears at track number 4, it's "Coast To Coast,” with a heavy and dark pace, surely a launching pad for the new heavily metallic music genre that was emerging: the two guitars, plus the rhythm handled by Meine’s "shoe" (speaking guitar-wise), definitely dictate new six-string rules.

After "Can't Get Enough” which I already talked about, comes a reggae-rock (but very rock) track, all in all successful, "Is There Anybody There?,” with a nice chorus and a drum machine in the background accompanying the acoustic drum equipped with roto-toms for typical reggae rolls. Following that, the title track "Lovedrive,” which begins a bit like Zeppelin's "Achilles Last Stand” but then takes on more modest connotations than the aforementioned masterpiece, still remains a notable track on the album: here too, the chorus follows a line that would be overused in the years to come (Stormwind by Europe comes to mind).

The album closes with a piece absolutely noteworthy, "Holiday,” much more than a typical end-of-album ballad, with a vaaaaaaaguely progressive structure: delicate acoustic arpeggios introduce Meine’s singing, absolutely impeccable; the atmosphere between vocals and arpeggios is quite dark, and around 3 minutes, the song awakens with a harder part, which slowly reconnects to the main arpeggio, which fades into silence around 6 minutes and 30 seconds, in a very delicate way, as if not wanting to disturb.

For late '70s hard rock, an absolutely memorable album, if only for the cover that was censored in various parts of the globe and earthly hollow. Scorpions are not a great band, but little by little, they have solidly reached the present day through hateful sugary ballads and powerful dual-guitar onslaughts. It must be said that throughout the '70s, they produced interesting albums (In Trance, Virgin Killer) in a land, Germany, where cerebral experimentation and electronics were the order of the day: that’s what the Scorpions WERE, black sheep (possibly) in a world of synthesizers.