For Earth Below is essentially lacking in the immediate impact that graced its predecessors. Contrary to popular opinion, the long suit of Twice Removed from Yesterday and Bridge of Sighs was not Trower's guitar work but his songwriting. In a word, the man's tunes were "intense," generally evoking the gamut of the emotional spectrum—from the sheer terror of "Bridge of Sighs" and "Hannah" to the nearly mystical otherworldliness of "Twice Removed from Yesterday." That Trower played guitar in a manner that made the instrument scream its death wail was but icing on the proverbial cake—the proof of his greatness was that he was able to successfully incorporate his screeching banshee blitzes into gripping song structures, a task clearly beyond the talents of 99% of his contemporaries.

Trower's guitar lines complemented, accentuated and otherwise blended nicely with the other sonic goings-on, thereby tying the ribbon around two packages that are still best described as "compelling."

Except for a couple of tunes at the head of side two, "compelling" this one ain't—in fact it's the first time I've found myself able to deal critically with a Trower LP from the outset. On first listening to For Earth Below I found myself struck, not with the "aw shucks, he's so good that I'm gonna burn my guitars" awe of the past, but with the realization that all the songs sounded pretty much the same. Rather than being well-defined song forms constantly progressing through a beginning and middle to a stomach-churning climax, the tunes here generally slosh through a vaguely rhythm & bluesish quicksand that never quite bogs them down totally but nonetheless slows proceedings to a maddening crawl. Even comparatively upbeat numbers like "Gonna Be More Suspicious" and "Shame the Devil" fall prey to this condition — they lack the cutting edge that made earlier Trower songs seem so immediately urgent.

The major reason for this, I think, is the arrival of ex-Sly drummer Bill Lordan into the Trower fold. Not that he's a terrible percussionist—in a contest with his predecessor he'd surely make Reggie Isi-dore sound like he was playing with logs—but by his very talents he necessarily loosens the recorded tightness that was previously the Trower trio's trademark. Since he can cover so much background area, he frees Trower from the strictures of staying reasonably close to the song's basic hook lines—great in theory but not so hot in practice since here the band sounds like less of a unit, with each instrumentalist covering his own distinct sonic area.

Another big problem with the album is the way it sounds—for an album whose title implies heavy otherworldliness, For Earth Below has a disappointingly discernible "Made in L.A." ring about it that stands in stark contrast to the "up Uranus" atmosphere that ran rampant on the earlier LPs. Matthew Fisher's production work this time out is definitely not up to snuff—he's got the band sounding much too clean, which in conjunction with other aforementioned conditions considerably lessens their sheer sonic impact. In fact only on "Alethea" is the Trower band able to overcome this cleanliness by means of a truly snazzy hook line and an incendiary solo from Trower.

Trower's playing, in fact, is so technically flawless (in terms best left for explanation in the likes of Guitar Player) that "A Tale Untold" succeeds solely through his masterful fretwork — a truly dynamic solo built atop a honey of an arpeggio rhythm line. "It's Only Money" also picks up markedly once Trower gets into full swing about midway through, with a solo that gradually builds in intensity until it dominates the entire song.

In the end, though, the reasons I'm not as enraptured with For Earth Below as I was with its forebears is best encapsulated in a three-part explanation of where the world's most musical guitarist seems most likely to make a wrong turn. Most obviously Trower is going to have to better vary his efforts stylistically — one can't help but get a pronounced feeling of dëjà vu listening to this LP; and when one is already widely accused of copping Hendrix licks left and right that's not a good situation to have going.

Trower is also going to have to avoid what seems to be a creeping absence of anger in his playing. As with Hendrix, this is probably the only legitimate complaint one can make about his solos—the fact that most of Trower's leads on this record definitely fall into the "mellow" class seems to have a definite correlation with the lack of a cutting edge throughout the LP. True indeed is the assertion that musicians play best when song structures collapse around them—and the reason's probably because they're angry as hell.

Finally Trower will obviously have to get a much better production job than the torpedo shot that beached this effort. That the man is capable of tremendous things has already been evidenced—surely a guitar master on a par with Trower deserves production which better accentuates his overwhelming talents. (RS 186)

GORDON FLETCHER