Steve Lukather’s last album, the impressive ‘All’s well that ends well’, offered much to the music fan but simultaneously revealed plenty about its creator’s dark outlook on life. Despite some level of optimism occasionally surfacing, the majority of that album provided a clear-headed insight into Lukather’s troubled personal life (he describes it as an ‘honest’ reflection of his life between 2008-10) and ruminations upon the turbulent celebrity culture that dominates our vapid, modern society. In contrast ‘transition’ is a much less harried listen, with Steve’s trademark guitar work shining on the nine tracks on offer.
The album opens with a piece of prime driving rock in the form of ‘judgment day’ which has a delightful progressive flavour reminiscent of the work of Steve Thorne. Never one to undervalue a good chorus, the chunky riff and multi-layered vocals perfectly offset the simmering licks and soulful tones that lead up to it. It’s the perfect opening track, highlighting the song-writing and musical skills of Steve and his band whilst helping you to settle into the album as smoothly as a well-aged malt whiskey, the sublime solo that ripples across the latter half of the track a particular highlight. ‘Creep motel’ has a bluesier feel to it, the snatches of keyboards a deft touch that add texture to the overall piece, whilst Steve aims for (and hits) a Paul Rodger’s vibe as he notes “I know the devil has reserved your place in hell…” It’s a brilliant song that hits a Free/Queen feel and keeps the album swinging in a loose, warm manner that is regularly livened by Steve’s scalding solos. With such a soulful sound reflecting the relaxed mind-set of its creator, there is an argument that Steve has never played or sung better than he does here, one that is further reinforced on the piano-led balladry of ‘Once again’ – a track that taps into the soft-rock stylings of Toto and ‘wonderful tonight’ Eric Clapton, throws in a touch of expertly evinced nostalgia for good measure and draws you to the verge of tears with its heartfelt sentiments. You can’t, however, Steve down for long and the nimble ‘right the wrong’ does a good job of drawing the listener to the titular transition of the title with its harmony-drenched chorus brilliantly written and memorable making you wonder why so few people seem capable of writing such catchy, intelligent soft-rock songs these days.
The title track sees Steve hit a rocking vibe instilled with a loose jazzy feel that is as unexpected as it is expertly delivered. The contrast between the stuttering electronic elements and the organic, blissful guitar playing keeps pushing the track in unexpected directions and you can imagine this absolutely levelling any live venue Steve drops this musical bomb upon, even as the music subsides from its initial bluster into a stunning, progressive reverie that sees the aggression drawn from the riffs like poison from a wound. Easily one of the album’s highlights ‘Last man standing’ contrasts a grinding riff with the sort of verse that Genesis might have considered on the ‘we can’t dance’ album only to slide into a chorus that combines hope and melody into one irresistible package that makes this a guaranteed hit amongst Steve Lukather fans. ‘Do I stand alone’ similarly sees Steve, post-transition, finding his inner-strength on a track that draws together the sounds of post-Waters Floyd, Clapton, Dire Straits and Europe for a fast paced soft-rock piece layered with echoing guitars, distressingly memorable choruses and brilliant guitar work. ‘Rest of the world’ is a stunning, rock/blues workout that once more references Clapton with its laid-back vocal and guitar work recalling the work done with Michael Kamen for the Lethal Weapon Soundtracks. The album closes with the keyboard-led ‘smile’, a dreamy coda to the album that sees one of Steve’s most emotional solos sliding across the surface of the gentle backing track. It is blissful, warm and, above all, it showcases how much of his own soul Steve infuses into his guitar playing – it’s so personal it’s as if each note resonates with the rampaging emotions that Steve has felt over the past few years and it leaves you feeling as if some kind of resolution and inner peace has been reached without a single word being uttered. Few guitarists could match such a dazzling display and fewer still could say so much without saying anything.
Steve Lukather is a genuine treasure whose work seems to consistently improve as he continuously gathers skill and experience, all the while pouring his heart and soul into the work that bears his name. ‘All’s well that ends well’ is still regularly spun on our player, but this wonderful album surpasses even that record’s many sonic delights. The transition that has taken place in Steve’s life is honestly reflected in some of his most personal work to date, and anyone not moved by ‘smile’ clearly has no interest in the all-important soul that lies at the heart of the blues. There are those who may find the studio sheen distracting, but then Steve Lukather’s work has always striven for sonic perfection and those familiar with his work from Toto and his previous albums will know what to expect. This is slick, brilliantly played soft rock with a heavy dose of the blues for good measure, and in this age of artifice and artless pop, Steve Lukather’s work is all the more important because it straddles the divide between the raw, aching honesty of the blues and the radio-friendly vibe of classic pop and soft rock. A consummate musician who values the power and potency of a well-constructed album, this may well be Steve Lukather’s best album to date.
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