Deep Purple - Stormbringer (1974)

Ah, here it is -- the dreadful funky close to one of the most heralded rock outfits from the 70s, the album that made Ritchie Blackmore hang up his scalloped frets and say bollocks to his blokes. This album sounds more like a vocal showcase for singer David Coverdale than it does an album proper, allowing him to project his soulful funk tendencies with fruitless abandon and practice his impending Whitesnake garbage -- and really, what business does "Love Don't Mean A Thing" have on any respectable DP album, let alone a rock album? I'm not a funk-hater, believe me; and I've got nothing against soul. Sly & The Family Stone; Donny Hathaway; Stevie Wonder? I totally dig them. Deep Purple laying down a saturated funk groove? I don't think so. Ritchie's later manifestation as the mad minstrel is better than this.

"Holy Man" is a synthesized gospel; "Hold On" sounds like a blaxploitation flick montage sequence; "Soldier Of Fortune" carries the torch as the prerequisite end-of-album mournful ballad. No, I didn't eat the shrooms; I swear on my mother's grave, and she ain't even dead! Terrible, terrible stuff, really, terribly, truly. The only songs worth lending your tympanic membranes to are "Stormbringer," "Lady Double Dealer" and "High Ball Shooter" -- the latter two conjuring up images of casinos and roulette and -- wow, I really don't know what to write about this album other than don't buy it. Ever. At all. I bought it, but that's because I'm as mad as a hatter. If you really want it, let me know; I'll burn you a copy. But I will hold you in such low regard that I think you would prefer my frienship instead. Oh, enough. D-

Deep Purple - Made In Japan (1972)

This is the greatest live rock 'n' roll album ever by pound-for-pound one of the greatest musical lineups ever. Period. Funny thing is, Purple could have just aped these songs on stage and no one would have thought any less of them -- simply because these songs stand up for themselves as classic rock gems. Thankfully, every member was a virtuoso in their own right and brought so much intensity and bravado to these performances that, indeed, you truly wish you could have been there for such remarkable improvisation. Frampton Comes Alive! can kiss it.

The album opens with a frenetic high-octane version of "Highway Star" that otherwise invalidates the studio original. Here, organist Jon Lord butchers his keyboard with furious speed and power, and guitarist Ritchie Blackmore lays down a staggering set of notes while strangling his whammy bar.

The next track, the classical vignette "Child In Time," features Ian Gillan in his uppermost vocal register, an explosive four-minute fret-fest from Mr. Blackmore and then booms to conclusion with some tasty Roger Glover bass. Oh yeah, and Ian Paice rules too. (Drummers simply don't get the credit they deserve.) Next is "Smoke On The Water" -- yeah, the one with one of the great meat-and-bone guitar riffs of all time. Gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh, as Alex would say. "The Mule" has a nice long drum solo from Paice and then afterwards we are treated to an intense jam version of "Strange Kind Of Woman" that features Gillan imitating Blackmore's guitar sequences note for note. Pure awesomeness. "Lazy" is such a swaggering romp it makes no pretense of being otherwise and "Space Truckin'" is a near-twenty minute opus consisting of dueling organ and guitar solos; this is more or less one of the most satisfying finishes to an album ever, and your ears are sure to feel exhausted and battered afterwards. Of course, for some, this album does not end there because in the expanded 2-disc set, we are fortunate to be given three more glorious versions of "Speed King," "Lucille" and "Black Night" not included on the original release. I daresay anyone should have a problem with that. A+