Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Deep Purple
Label: EMI Records
Released: 1974
Running time: 36:31
Rating: 5/5
»Stormbringer« was the ninth studio effort from British heavy rock legends Deep Purple, and the second and also last album from the Mark III lineup, which had two vocal heavyweights up front in David Coverdale and Glenn Hughes. According to Coverdale, the title of the album and its title-track opener was inspired by a mythological creature, which the excellent cover shows as the winged horse of ancient Greek mythology, Pegasus. David only found out after the record came out that Stormbringer is also the name of the mystical black sword wielded by the hero Elric in the fantasy novels of the legendary British science fiction and fantasy writer Michael Morcock, who also co-wrote lyrics for the legendary bands Hawkwind and Blue Öyster Cult, among other things.
The album was originally supposed to be called »Silence« and come with a pretty silly cover featuring a glamorous diva, but luckily the majority of the band’s love for romance and mysticism won out in the end. The superb sleeve and the best logo in the band’s history played a big part in the successful marketing of the funk-tinged »Stormbringer«, which, despite its first-rate music, sadly remains one of the most overlooked Deep Purple records of all, even though it holds some of the loveliest evergreen gems in the whole career of this cult heavy rock band.
The legendary quintet, who this time headed to Munich to record, decided to build the sound of the new studio project on the capital of its brilliant predecessor »Burn« (1974), with one important difference: besides keeping their traditional heavy rock punch, on »Stormbringer« they opened the door much wider to funk elements. That suited every member of the band except the brilliant but moody guitar wizard Ritchie Blackmore, who was growing more and more unhappy with the new sonic direction and had quietly already hatched a plan for leaving the band that had made him world-famous.
Blackmore, a huge blues fan who around then was also getting more and more excited about classical, especially baroque-flavored arrangements and traditional folk music, which he would start putting into practice on his future projects, was fuming that funk, mostly thanks to Hughes but Coverdale too, had begun to dominate the sound and push aside his vision of Deep Purple, a vision that left little room for democratic decision-making. During the making of the album he tried to force a cover of the prog rock band Quatermass’s classic »Black Sheep Of The Family« on the others by any means, but in the end he had to save it for the debut of his future project Rainbow. Considering that the man in black already had his head in Rainbow, which he founded together with the legendary singer Ronnie James Dio (1942-2010), it’s a real miracle that »Stormbringer« turned out so well and held some wonderfully innovative ideas that showcased the individual strengths of every member of the band.
The opening title-track hard rock burner can be seen as a kind of stylistic sequel to the classic »Burn«, since the two share a fairly similar structure and main riff, only »Stormbringer«, thanks to its colorful synthesizer intro courtesy of the legendary keyboard virtuoso Jon Lord (1941-2012), is a slightly more refined piece with a completely different main chorus. Coverdale’s mighty vocals, telling the story of the apocalyptically spicy arrival of the mythological bringer of storms, ride on the wings of a rushing guitar phrase and Ian Paice’s massive drum fills. Hughes’ somewhat shy vocal parts add a touch of soulful charm, while Blackmore’s melancholic guitar improvisations, backed by a fiery drum cataclysm, heat the spirited atmosphere right up to boiling point.
The fun blues-funk rock hybrid »Love Don’t Mean a Thing« is a nice chance for Coverdale’s smoky, erotically charged vocal approach to take wing, since the legendary singer always had boundless affinity for any song containing the word ‘love’. His heart-wrenching vocal performance, centered as usual on a femme fatale who this time can’t just be pretty but has to be rich too, is enriched by Hughes’ pumped-up soulful mannerisms, which create an excellent contrast between the two vocal styles. Ritchie’s blues-tinged guitar phrases over sleepy rhythmic nuances give the song a fairly simple structural frame, but also an incredibly intense atmosphere that instantly brings to mind the desert plains of the American Midwest.
On »Holy Man«, another interesting funk experiment, inspired by an encounter with American religious preachers, the main vocal scepter goes to a Hughes in great spirits, who delivers an unforgettable emotional performance. The melancholic harmonies between the guitar passages and the sprawling keyboards are pure nirvana and build a distinctly nostalgic mood that peaks in the mighty chorus. The evergreen »Hold On«, ruled by mighty vocal harmonies and a harmonic exchange between the two lead singers, is one of the most vivid »Stormbringer« standards. This funk-blues hybrid, spiced with a mischievous eroticism, is marked by complex rhythmic nuances and a striking chorus where romantic multi-part vocals jostle for space. Coverdale and Hughes once again compete over who can pour more of their endlessly warring emotions into the sexually driven cooing beneath their chosen femme fatale’s window, while Blackmore, with a mouthwatering guitar solo, briefly takes center stage and, with the help of Lord’s subtle piano passages, widens the playfully salty overall ambience even further.
The next classic, »Lady Double Dealer«, is for a change a potent hard rocker built on a rushing guitar phrase, combative drums and Coverdale’s furious vocals, which peak in a simple but mighty chorus. With the help of vivid vocal harmonies, Hughes can’t resist slipping some funky finesse into the direct, punchy atmosphere of Coverdale’s angry confession about a treacherous woman. »You Can’t Do It Right« is a perfect funk triumph with a slight blues aftertaste, where the tempo is set by potent bass lines and expertly timed drum fills, while an innovative guitar riff and a subtle layer of keyboards tie it all together. While Coverdale’s vocals are once again the main source of classic bluesy, inconsolable melancholy, Hughes’ singing brings his usual funky hedonism to the song. Lord’s synthesizer improvisations spice up a fairly simple rhythmic frame ruled by superb vocal harmonies.
The up-tempo »High Ball Shooter«, where various stylistic currents blend once more, is another authentic Purple classic and still one of the most entertaining Mark III achievements, with Blackmore serving up one of the most innovative and also funniest guitar riffs of his entire career. The rhythmic nuances are a bit more complex this time, thanks to livelier drumming and melodic bass parts, while the mighty chorus is the end result of a colorful, all-out energetic vocal duel between the two vocal protagonists. Lord’s brilliant Hammond organ solo hits like manna from heaven, and like something you’d almost desperately missed through the first half of the album.
The nostalgic masterpiece »The Gypsy«, whose structure and atmosphere already sit very close to Ritchie’s early work with Rainbow, is not just one of the best Mark III classics but one of the best of Deep Purple’s whole career. Blackmore’s romantic guitar riff, harmonic vocal backing from both lead singers and subtly timed drum fills make for an unforgettable romantic mood. What really tips the whole thing toward Ritchie’s future band are the mystical lyrics about a mysterious gypsy woman and the weeping guitar solo, with which the man in black tells everyone who defied his dictatorial demands to go to hell.
Right at the end comes the gripping blues rock ballad »Soldier of Fortune«, the simplest in structure but the best in atmosphere on the whole album, and it still never stops thrilling with its romantic-nostalgic intensity. The main ‘star’ of this classic, soaked in indescribable melancholy and still the top candidate for the most sincerely sung Deep Purple ballad, is Coverdale with his heart-wrenching singing. It boasts a rarely heard emotional honesty in which pain and boundless nostalgia mingle, as the singer realizes that, despite relentless aging, he will forever follow his own heart. Blackmore’s gentle opening chords eventually melt into a weeping guitar solo that reflects the pastoral Celtic visions he would go on to fully realize as a member of Rainbow. Coverdale still plays this immortal ballad at concerts with his band Whitesnake, and it usually closes their shows. When it was written, only he and Ritchie appreciated it, before it won over the other three members too.
»Stormbringer« came flying in from a cloudy sky, came, saw and conquered, handing Deep Purple’s Mark III lineup its last masterpiece, one loaded with an exceptionally juicy mix of styles. Funk dominates at its core, but all the traditional heavy rock elements that had brought them worldwide fame are still there. The mostly positive reception from audiences for this overlooked but excellent album wasn’t enough to convince Blackmore, who, with a few rare compositional exceptions, was unhappy with its final sound, not to pack his bags and start his own heavy rock saga called Rainbow. After the in many ways shattering loss of one of the greatest guitarists of all time, an important songwriter and a founding member, the other four didn’t dither for long and, as fast as they could, started auditioning for a new guitarist. Blackmore’s spot eventually went to the versatile American guitar gem Tommy Bolin (1951-1976), and another new, short-lived and very turbulent chapter began for Deep Purple, one that sadly didn’t have a happy ending.
Lineup
David Coverdale – vocals
Ritchie Blackmore – guitar
Glenn Hughes – vocals, bass guitar
Jon Lord – organ, keyboards
Ian Paice – drums
Production
Deep Purple and Martin Birch
Track list
1. Stormbringer (4:03)
2. Love Don’t Mean A Thing (4:23)
3. Holy Man (4:28)
4. Hold On (5:05)
5. Lady Double Dealer (3:19)
6. You Can’t Do It Right (2:24)
7. High Ball Shooter (4:26)
8. The Gypsy (4:13)
9. Soldier Of Fortune (3:14)
