Alpha isn't so much an album of music as it is a sort of sonic confection, a concoction of tasty medodies, sweet harmonies and goopy lyrics intended more for greedy consumption than for artistic appreciation. It isn't simply that Asia is basically shallow; it's that this is a group whose members have mastered the musical tricks of making pleasantly impressive noises, and have, in turn, discovered that such noises can make them very wealthy. Art, at this point, is no longer a part of the equation–Asia's music is pure commodity.

In all fairness, it must be admitted that Asia is remarkably good at what it does. John Wetton's voice is strong enough to sail easily through the band's dense textures and is particularly impressive when massed into blocks of vocal harmony, as it frequently is. Keyboardist Geoff Downes has an uncanny knack for texture and color, and though his synthesizer parts are invariably bombastic, they nevertheless complement Wetton's choral indulgences. In addition, Asia manages to squeeze in the excesses of two more players, guitarist Steve Howe and drummer Carl Palmer, while still maintaining a sound that's impressively loud without being overburdened.

For all its mechanical ingenuity, however, Asia's music remains empty. There's no sense of passion, mystery or excitement, nor any of the emotional power than can make rock & roll something more than just entertainment. Alpha may be full of aural come-ons, but what it delivers is so hollow, so ultimately meaningless, that it winds up being an utter disgrace. (RS 404)

J.D. CONSIDINE