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Rating:
At the moment, this is still the latest release of unreleased material from the Los Angeles supergroup, which remains energetic and lively as they are still touring the world (even in Italy last June) for a noble cause: to raise money to help the family of bassist Mike Porcaro, who is on his deathbed due to a terrible degenerative disease. The typical definition, by the most distracted and superficial detractors, of "studio session men for hire" regarding the band’s musicians doesn’t quite line up with the fact that these guys, at sixty, consistently bid farewell to their families, leave their beautiful Californian homes for quite a while, ignore the comfortable recording studios nearby and hit the road for months, performing on stages, taking flights, bouncing here and there by bus, and sleeping in hotels.
"Falling In Between" should be counted among one of the most substantial and enjoyable works of the fifteen more or less released since 1978 until today. For a long time (let's say since "Kingdom Of Desire," 1992), the music of Toto has stopped paying misleading dues to commercial laws, meaning to the greed of the multinational record label. The accessibility of digital techniques and vast experience allow them to happily do without a contract: they recorded, produced, and financed this album themselves, later relying on the Neapolitan Frontiers for international distribution. In this way, 100% of their inspiration is pursued without interference, allowing the work in question to faithfully represent the tastes, inclinations, and enjoyment of the brilliant musicians involved in the project.
This representation consists, for those who don’t know, of a refined yet energetic blend of hard rock, rhythm&blues, jazz&fusion, progressive pop, and more. In these eleven tracks, one can hear and relish bold yet harmonious juxtapositions of a variety of moods: Latin percussion traveling alongside heavy metal guitars, anthemic and choral refrains emerging cleanly from spontaneous, elaborate odd-time verses, fusion solos that lean on rhythms inspired by Africa, Elton John-like pianos that soften granite-like guitar/bass riffs, horn sections that split rock situations in two and give them a big band scent, etc., etc.
Living and working in Los Angeles, a musical hub of the world if there ever was one, allows for an enormous mindset and performing experience if you are intelligent and talented musicians like they are. Toto, on top of that, add a lot of friendship, mutual respect, and genuine pleasure in enjoying each other's talents together. It is indeed evident how these songs appear to be the result of group work, the supreme pleasure derived from starting with a single idea brought by an individual, or born spontaneously in the rehearsal room while hanging out freely, to finally land, contribution after contribution, on the final structure and arrangement: almost all the tracks are in fact collectively signed by three, four, up to five members of the band.
The roles, after so many years, are well defined but even more accepted: the chubby pianist David Paich is the main composer with a vivid and ironic voice, fitting for the sunniest verses; the curly-haired Englishman Simon Philips, worthy heir of the late Jeff Porcaro, is the perfect rhythmic machine, particularly imaginative in using the toms; the unfortunate Mike Porcaro, here in his final performances, is the usual reliable and balanced bassist; guitarist Steve Lukather, the "boss" given the meritorious, inexhaustible energy in keeping the group together, is many things... he sings his melancholic ballads as well as some verses here and there on the more lively tracks, while he continues to eagerly experiment with sounds, amplifiers, and his guitar's role in the band (fewer solos this time, or rather quite short, with an increasingly dry and hefty tone, however not towards hard rock but rather in the fusion direction or, if there’s any chaos, towards boastful progressive metal); the screamer Bobby Kimball is the usual hammer, pushing full-voice earsplitting highs and knows no power decline... and to think he was kicked out of the group, something like thirty years ago, because he ruined his voice among drinks and various powders!
If that weren't enough, a whole host of fine people add their contribution, including some ex-members of the group and other aspiring new entrants: Greg Phillinganes plays the organist and fourth (!) singer; Steve Porcaro inflates the sonic spectrum with his beloved synth fanfares, without fear, despite that endless reflux that led rock bands to rely only on pianos and organs, as if all the development of synthesized sounds of the seventies and eighties was trash; the prodigal son Joseph Williams (who resumes contact here but is the lead singer in current concerts) gives a substantial hand in the successful single "Bottom Of Your Soul"; jazz trumpeter Roy Hargrove lays a delightful Davis-esque solo over a jam session snippet, a real tribute to the Weather Report, titled "The Reeferman" and placed at the album's end; the entire horn section of Chicago, arranged by their brilliant trombonist James Pankow, cooks up delicacies in the fusion/funky instrumental portion of "Dying On My Feet" (my absolute favorite of the lot); Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull sticks a slightly anachronistic flute solo on the Purple-esque hard rock "Hooked"... and so on, in a true celebration of beautiful sounds and great depth and pull that makes this work multi-faceted, compelling, clear and admirable.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Falling in Between (04:06)
I've just got to find
Find a way, back home to you girl
Life's been Hell to pay
I can't disobey,
Gotta live in my world
Chorus I
I hear voices calling
From the faces never seen
Darkness all around me
I am falling in between
You've been lookin' down
Down to the ground
On everything I say girl
Hope just can't be found
I'm so gagged and bound
Because of you girl
Chorus II
I hear voices calling
From the places I have been
Love and understanding
Only flows from deep within
Darkness that surrounds me
I am falling in between.....
02 Dying on My Feet (06:11)
Dying on my feet
Sure beats living on my knees
These hands around my neck
They get tighter as you squeeze
I'd crawl across the water, baby
Just to get away from you
Take my life but make it shorter
Seems the least that you could do
Reach out
Someone reach out to me
Cause I've lost my way
Sometimes we
Give into things, when we lie and cheat,
Say things
My life's crumblin' down
Time for me to pray
Hold me in
Deep inside, cause I'm dying on my feet
Life is hard
But I think, "Compared to what?"
Can't see the things you get to
But deserve just what you got
Will you still forgive me baby
If I don't come back for more
Everything that ever mattered baby
Is locked behind your door
Can't judge
Things I don't understand
Since you walked away
Easy to
Feel this way,
Cause I'm back on the street, well
Life is
A game you can't win
You can only play
Here I am
I'm just dyin,
I'm just dyin,
I'm just dyin!
Instrumental Break
Reach out
Someone reach out to me
Cause I've lost my way
Sometimes we
Give into things, when we lie and cheat,
Say things
My life's crumblin' down
Time for me to pray
Hold me in
Deep inside, cause I'm dying,
I'm just dyin', I'm just dyin'
03 Bottom of Your Soul (06:58)
Where are the children we lost not long ago
Feel for the Mothers who weep for them
I pray for the Fathers who are standing by their side
In their world of pain and suffering
Have you ever seen the look in a hungry child's eyes
They can't eat money or promises
Give them your smile and try holding out your hand
Let them know you're there, let them know you're there
kertosäe:
Why is it always the ones that we love
Are the ones that will never come home
Why must all of the bridges we cross take their toll
Always remember the voice in your head
Speaks to you when you're alone
And it comforts you
From the top of your heart to the bottom of your soul
You can swim in a river of tears they cry
For they sleep on the winds of uncertainty
Show us a sign and make us believe again
There's no other way, oh, there's no other way
kertosäe (2x)
05 Hooked (04:36)
Gimme some beer,
Gimme some fear,
Reality and fame
Money from you
Money for them
Billions being made
You think you got a real deal
All you're buyin' is a fifth wheel
They gotcha by the ying yang
More dollar for the big bang
And when you have to have it
Somehow you always find away,
You'll find a way
Then it becomes a habit
You'll rob your late friend's grave
It's sex, it's drugs,
And then we all fall down
Get hooked,
On life
Or join the underground
It's oil, it's guns,
Bad guys we never see
It's war, dead sons,
Be all that you can be
Give it a spin
Maybe you'll win
Nobody's gettin paid
Lightin it up
Shootin it up
Ya really should be afraid
You're lookin' for a new chin
So they tighten up your old grin
All you wanna do is fit in
So they're gonna make you real thin
It's just enough to tease you
They nail you right between the eyes
Nail you right between the eyes
Somehow it will disease you
While you're lobotomized
It's meds, it's feds,
Don't need no PhD's
Load down, those sounds,
We love our MP3's
It's cribs, it's cars
Mercedes BNZ
It's abs, it's carbs
Stop super-sizing me!
It's sex, it's drugs,
And then we all fall down
Get hooked,
On life
Or join the underground
It's crips, it's bloods
It's pimped out S.U.V.'s
It's court, prime time
Those lawyer S.O.B.'s
It's X, It's crack
It's glass and A.D.D.
It's cool, it's wack
I'll pay you back
Your kick, you prick
You get the first one free
You're cuffed, you're hooked,
You're hooked.
07 Taint Your World (04:01)
Screaming at the sun and I might have spilled a little moonshine on my head
Didn't have to run, but there was no one left behind 'cept for the dead
I didn't see it comin', but that rummy-stilted crackpot knew my game
Left my head a'hummin', like a ball peen hammer drives a nail to shame
I suggest you listen up to what I have to say
Witnessed many crooked things, I smell your DNA
Stab me, take me down, you know you'll never get your way
Taint your world
You're so far away from where you think you need to be
Taint your world
Cause you don't want to f**k with me
Didn't anybody get the cipher from that flying rat machine
Gnarly, little, scrunched up, tiny fingers, and its disposition mean
Anybody out of line will soon be on the list
My back's against the wall and yet I know I must resist
Time to tell the truth, I think somebody's gettin' pissed
Taint your world
You're not even close to where you think you need to be
Taint your world
You got another guess comin' if you think you're foolin' me
Instrumental Break
Taint your world
So far away from where you think you need to be
Taint your world
Where I belong just like an oyster and a pearl
Taint your world
You're not even close to where you think you need to be
Taint your world
Taint your world
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Other reviews
By Torre Ste
The album opens with the title track, a surprise for the band’s fans: distorted guitars and a majestic rhythm unlike anything they have done before.
Give us a chance by listening to this album, and you won’t regret it.
