Styx is a quintet from Chicago formed in the early seventies to play progressive music, which was very fashionable at the time. However, being Americans and not Europeans, the sound and attitude were somewhat different from those of the English inspirations. For example, the guitars sounded much more robust, and the singers were decidedly more stentorian. Thus, a brand-new musical genre was coined for them and other contiguous formations like Kansas, namely pomp rock.
The crisis of progressive music in the second half of the seventies resulted in Styx's gradual repositioning towards more suitable pop rock/AOR shores, undoubtedly more fitting to their musical characteristics. In fact, they sold a wagonload of records between the late seventies and early eighties (almost all at home, much less in Europe), except then they went off track with ambitious and clumsy musicals, leadership quarrels, ego and money problems, inevitable farewells and disbandments, followed by equally predictable reconstitutions and new, definitive separations.
This is the ninth album in their vast discography, released in 1979; the group was already well ahead in their transition towards more accessible and popular music and was in sparkling form, with full agreement and a clear division of tasks among the three roosters in the henhouse, namely the two guitarists/singers/composers James Young and Tommy Shaw and the keyboardist/singer/composer Dennis De Young. The lineup is completed in the rhythm section by the two problematic Italian-American twin brothers Panozzo: Chuck on bass (still fighting against HIV, a fate unfortunately common for gay people of that generation like him) and the poor John on drums (sadly died still young due to cirrhosis, a misfortune equally frequent among compulsive lovers of the bottle).
The strength of Styx is the different and complementary style, both compositional and especially vocal, of the three soloists, which, however, blends very well in the frequent choral parts and gives variety to their works: Young is a pure rocker, as well as a gritty and sharp baritone, Shaw a soft and very tuned baritenor, a bit banal and predictable in his melodic and harmonic ideas, Dennis De Young a pure, bright, and versatile tenor, in my opinion, the most talented. Regarding the approach on guitars, Young's is more impetuous and instinctive and relies on epidermic and spectacular licks, while Shaw prefers to make the instrument sing, with more melodic and composed phrasing.
The best pop rock episodes of the bunch are, first and foremost, the romantic piano ballad "Babe," a true festival honoring the bell-like tone of the Fender Rhodes electric piano, a keyboard very fashionable at the time but still much appreciated today. The track is a dedication by the keyboardist to his wife Suzanne, initially thought for a solo record but then embellished by a central solo by Shaw and placed by the record company in the album's tracklist and released as the first single, rightly so as it ended up in the top spot in the charts. Dennis has the typical high, penetrating, and powerful voice, yet with a rich and silky "texture," as well as a recognizable style; he must rightfully be considered one of the great and high AOR voices of America, alongside other true nightingales like Steve Perry (Journey), Brad Delp (Boston), Mickey Thomas (Starship).
Another valuable creation by De Young turns out to be "Why Me," bolstered by a spectacular duel of solos between Young's Stratocaster and guest Steve Eisen's saxophone, truly thrilling.
"Boat On The River" is a semi-acoustic contribution by Shaw, still quite tied to the more progressive recent past, contemplating among other things the use of accordion and mandolin. Another classic is "Borrowed Time," a robust melodic rock with a memorable full-voiced chorus, a true emblem of American commercial hard rock, always performed at their concerts (often as an encore) from the release of this album onwards.
The career of Styx is not very clear, with many underwhelming or downright irritating releases ("Kilroy Was Here" from 1983 above all). They haven't released noteworthy albums for a long time (the last one I think is "Edge Of The Century," 1990). However, this "Cornerstone" is one of their best outings: extremely enjoyable music, naturally for those who appreciate the star-spangled glamour and do not have that certain snootiness of the European, for whom every emphatic attitude sounds ignoble.
"Babe" is a love song of the tear-jerking kind that has the major flaw of being off-theme compared to the context it is part of.
Yet another lesson on how success changes people and things.