TESLA
Simplicity
Frontiers (2014)
Rating: 9/10
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Where would the world of hard rock be without the sumptuous sounds of Tesla? For such an underrated band, the California combo have sold almost 15 million records in the United States alone, releasing a batch of outstanding albums, including the superb 1986 debut, Mechanical Resonance, and the brilliant 1989 follow-up, The Great Radio Controversy. Tesla are a band who just don’t have it in them to release average records.
It’s been six years since 2008’s excellent Forever More, but when you slap this brand spanking new opus on it’ll feel as if they’ve never been away.
Once again it’s filled with those distinctive yaps and barks of vocalist Jeff Keith, who has that distinctive, cool as fuck style which just lazily makes its presence known on the slow motion stomper ‘MP3’, which introduces itself via that plodding percussion from Troy Luccketta and Frank Hannon’s sizzling axe work.
Rarely can words describe a Tesla album. The band somehow find a niche between the commercial and the alternative, marrying together lush rhythms and sturdier shards of rock, the result being an always uplifting, often poignant slab of American rock that transcends fads by effortlessly remaining cool.
Tesla is a sum of many parts, whether they are ripping up a metal storm or the next minute in complete contrast constructing a sweeping, seemingly hair metal ballad. And then there are the sleazier edged hymns, the swaggering, pulse-racing pomp and of course the occasional drift into psych-tinged, dreamy balladry of sweetness.
‘Ricochet’ has that AC/DC sort of fiery swagger about it – a straight up ballsy rocker hinting at a Guns N’ Roses-style of streetwise magic, but it’s oh so much more intelligent as Keith beams “Playing music every night, having the time of my life, everything will be alright, alright, alright… tonight”.
There’s a magic that drips from every musician within the Tesla fold. The throb of ‘Rise And Fall’ showcases the bubbling bass of Brian Wheat, while the aching acoustics of ‘So Divine…’ brings Hannon and fellow guitarist Dave Rude together over a solid back beat from Troy Luccketta. It’s joyous, reflective and stirs the soul, but then again, what else did we expect from the quintet?
‘Cross My Heart’ has more in common with the Faces as a boozy, sleazed-up piano-laced rocker, while ‘Honestly’ is another of those simmering ballads that builds up to a crescendo then falls back on its heels as a moving echo. And with the breezy shuffle of ‘Burnout To Fade’ to the chugging formidability of ‘Time Bomb’ and the lush ‘’Til That Day’, we’ve once again been treated to another spectacular Tesla offering. Predictably brilliant, and oh so simple.
Neil Arnold
