Here's how to make ragers endure Journey: Subtract the band's noxious voxman and let Journey drummer Steve Smith tweak out a few of the ancient cringetunes in company with a couple of his choptastic fusion pals. "No! No!" Smith always begged when approached with similar plans, and right he was. But bandmates Valera & Gwizdala showed the possibilities, and he went, "Hmmm . . ."
Cuban specialist Manuel Valera wrangles "Don't Stop Believin'" into unapologetic breezy '70s jazzrock, the gleaming keys of his Rhodes dancing with wondrous chromatics as Smith gleefully rustles & hustles the beat. "Open Arms" retains the romantic grandeur if that's yer thing, Valera and bassist Janek Gwizdala trading boygirl conversation and Smith keeping score. But of the three Journey revisitations, "Who's Crying Now" really makes you pay attention. Supported by Smith's rushing, dynamic drums, Valera has constructed over the simple piano melody a series of sequences from quiet to punchy, showcasing his unpredictable solos and reframing the chordal frameworks, while Smith and Gwizdala duke it out with counterpoints and the latter clocks in with the record's most focused bass solo. New perspective uh huh.
Other new slants include two recastings from the Vital Information back catalog. "The Perfect Date" becomes a bumpin rhythm workout; note that your head shakes up & down rather than side to side. The oriental space trip "Charukeshi Express" begins with oozy keys and employs the Indian vocal percussion technique konnakol, which Smith took up quite a while ago; it's both weirdly attractive and distractingly weird.
Smith takes to konnnakol once again on the funky "Eight + Five," once too many since we're already plunging into one of the time-signature brain teasers we crave from fusion, but the variety of keyboard attacks and a hundred-measure roll from Smith at the end (including metal-style doublekick!) make up for it. The record concludes with Valera's "Josef the Alchemest," a sensuous, vaguely Eastern tribute to the titular Zawinul that packs a lot of intensity and shall we say information into its four minutes.
As usual with Steve Smith, we're pressed, we're rolled, we're impressed, but we never feel we're listening to a show-off. Just to one of the best.
This very same Vital Information trio plays the Baked Potato through Sat. April 5.