Wishbone Ash
Bona Fide

THE REVIEW

As Robert Fripp once said, speaking about the choice to have Peter Giles instead of Greg Lake play the bass parts on the second King Crimson album, “In the Wake of Poseidon”: “Bassists come in two distinct kinds, namely natural and not. With the former, everything comes much easier; they find the right things to play in little time…” He was referring to the fact that Lake had at the time left Crimso and was already rehearsing with Keith Emerson and Carl Palmer for the well-known trio that would later be. Fripp, abandoned by all his fellow protagonists as much as he was on the debut album, had convinced Lake to at least lend his august voice to the tracks of “Wake” then ready (all but one), but he couldn’t get him to also learn and competently execute all the bass duties. Peter, unlike Greg, was a natural bassist and did the job in the very limited time given by the record label.

All this to say that our Wishbone Ash had never had a natural bassist! Until 2002, the year of the release of this their sixteenth album (or on second thought only on one occasion... with the poor Trevor Bolder fleetingly passing by in the early eighties for the album “Twin Barrels Burning” and then swiftly returning to the much more loved Uriah Heep, where he stayed for life).

With “Bona Fide” comes this “real” bassist, Bob Skeat, who’s still in the lineup after twenty years. The music of Wishbone Ash immediately gains depth, tightness, and drive. The sound of his instrument, classically inclined to invade the lower frequencies and only those, stops interfering with the work of the guitars and vocals as all the previous bassists had done. Simply by playing what there is to play in a rock band, namely robust and precise grooves, Skeat instantly elevates Wishbone Ash to a level of drive that they hadn’t had before. Less progressive and more hard rock, in short.

The other novelty is the inauguration of the so-called “Finnish way” for the second lead guitar. Bald Andy Powell, having become the boss of the group with the final departure of all other founding members, begins to fish from this cold Scandinavian country to have a six-string partner and thus comply with the compulsory Wishbone parameter: two lead guitars of equal dignity and importance in action. The chosen one is named Ben Granfelt and he does a decent job, but let's say that, in the history of this band, he’s the only one not to overshadow the eternal Powell! All other colleagues, namely founding member Ted Turner, the little Laurie Wisefield, the American Roger Filgate, the meteor Mark Birch, another Finn Muddy Manninen, and the current Mark Abrahams have proven to be fundamentally better guitarists than the boss!

He, taking advantage of his situation as the only surviving member willing to carry the project forward, becomes from this album onwards the almost constant lead vocalist of the group. Not the ideal situation, as Powell’s vocal talents are very limited, although they have been refined and improved over the years. But still... anyway in Wishbone it’s the guitars that impose themselves, and they remain excellent nonetheless.

The album isn’t a masterpiece, but it trots along quite well from start to finish. Its peaks are the extended ballad “Faith, Hope and Love” with its catchy refrain and full, lush Hammond organ (courtesy of bassist Skeat), the decently folk “Ancient Remedy” with guitars drawing melodies for bagpipes, the Texan-styled “Changin Tracks” true homage to ZZ Top, with that saturated and warm guitar work, and finally the bouncing “Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda”, featuring a successful rising riff.

As for the rest, the initial “Almighty Blues” is a non-transcendental boogie, “Difference in Time” is sung by Granfelt and stands out for the nice responsive choruses, the other journey towards folk “Come Rain, Come Shine” is badly sung by Powell but notable for its authentically progressive instrumental insert, with instruments (even piano... always the work of the capable bassist Skeat) crossing virtuously and guitars hammering hard; so much so that when Powell’s lackluster voice returns for the last chorus, there’s a genuine effect like a deflating balloon. Ordinary is the farewell instrumental “Peace” and the pop rock “Enigma”, a true festival of echoed responses on the guitars and again with Powell’s voice showing its limits.

The usual three and a half stars of the "average" albums of this prolific band certainly go to this “Bona Fide” as well.