It’s only fitting that a man who’ll utilise anything from a keytar to a Steinway grand piano to a Moog Polyphonic Synth should enlist a singer just as willing to push the creative envelope to get the performance he wants. By his own admission, knew nothing of Joe Payne – formerly frontman with , now operating under the name of – when they first met on a prog cruise. But the keyboard player was hugely impressed by the British singer’s incredible voice and megawatt charisma.
And Payne is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to unlikely personnel choices here. is Rudess’ 20th solo record, and it features lyrics written by his daughter Ariana – “The essence of the album is informed by the tumultuous events of 2023-2024, with motifs of peace and anti-violence woven throughout,” he says. If that wasn’t unique enough, the guitar parts on the album are played by Steve Dadaian, a world-class cosmetic dentist by day,and a stellar six-stringer by night, if this is anything to go by).
Yet despite – or rather because of – the unlikely mix of people involved, and Rudess takes a similarly maverick approach to its songs. Moments of trippy histrionics are balanced by weighty hooks and classy melody lines. These songs revel in the unpredictable.
They confounding the listener...
then offer something they’ll be whistling an hour later , for instance, is a mind-bending wig-out which mutates from a Zappa-esque motif into the kind of power ballad chorus that demands a black-and-white video featuring a wind machine. The hook of sounds like it could have been lifted from some Andrew Lloyd Webber musical extravaganza; but it also features an extended, -esque solo that would have the average theatregoer fleeing for the exits. Rudess and his colleagues have the knack of confounding the listener one moment, then offering something they’ll be whistling an hour later.
It’s not an easy trick to pull off, but they repeatedly manage it. is loaded with these kinds of moments across its nine tracks. It’s colourful and rich on the lovely , then suddenly unhinged on – its erratic multi-vocal middle section leads into a melody that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on ’ , before deliberately driving itself off the road once again into a ditch of percussion and revolving, stabbing keyboard parts.
It’s sort of record. Roll on album 21. Philip Wilding is a novelist, journalist, scriptwriter, biographer and radio producer.
As a young journalist he criss-crossed most of the United States with bands like Motley Crue, Kiss and Poison (think the Almost Famous movie but with more hairspray). More latterly, he’s sat down to chat with bands like the slightly more erudite Manic Street Preachers, Afghan Whigs, Rush and Marillion. "John Lennon doesn't have to do this, why should I?": Pink Floyd, Syd Barrett, and the creation of See Emily Play “I acknowledged my masochistic side.
.. my self-destructive nature peaked”: Louise Patricia Crane can’t escape her dark aspect, so she’s brought it into the light on her new album "Vivian is still battling cancer, we've still got a one-armed drummer.
But these are obstacles that we just mock": Joe Elliott on why Def Leppard won't be retiring any time soon.
