But it's almost as if the song has no beginning, middle or end though Winwood's production has everything even-tempered throughout: the sound is too uniform, too unruffled.
"Roll Right Stones" is another myth tune. The lyrics don't really tell you anything literally; Winwood lets you make inferences by yourself. He does sing, though, that "death awaits, with pearly gates, for those who have been mesmerized." Strangely enough, the song itself is mesmerizing. The chorus breaks loose from the staid rhythm, there's a plateau of piano, organ and sax that's fine, but then it's back to teasing, though with finesse. Winwood's vocal is fine—if you didn't know that he's capable of cooking while here he's only kindling. Just when things should break towards the end you're tantalized with some background fuzz guitar and one or two sax notes.
The disappointing thing is that there's no one instrument playing strongly against the rather methodical rhythm. The themes are there, but not the variations. Ronnie Hawkins and David Hood seem to disappear into the low-keyed texture. In fact, the whole first side is bridled in subtle restraint. Why sing about fantasy if you're not going to expand the motif with your playing?
Some of this problem is alleviated on side two. "Evening Blue" is a fine ballad, the kind Winwood has known his way around since "No Face, No Name, No Number" of the first album, through "Can't Find My Way Home" and "Every Mother's Son" on Barleycorn. There's a wonderful, soothing touch to this song. Chris Wood has a keen, well-phrased solo against Winwood's organ. Steve's vocal is good, again, but unnecessarily inhibited, and sometimes a bit amateurishly inflected. Winwood just doesn't stretch the way he used to. Still, the song's a pleasure because the arrangement is simple and straightforward.
Chris Wood's "Tragic Magic" follows, starting off fine, but Wood blows the chance to improvise so that the melody, otherwise well done, hurts for ideas and becomes perfunctory like the songs of side one. Still, Wood staggers the rhythm changes so that time doesn't hang on the song.
"Sometimes I Feel So Uninspired" is Winwood's direct approach to the mythical deficiency. The lyrics are depressingly sung at first, almo
