minutes of vintage Machine Head sludge – Ian Paice's thunder sticks calling the proceedings to order with a rigid goose-step beat, Ian Gillan raping his tonsils with the vigor of yesteryear. And "Mad Dog" is basically an '87-model "Highway Star," high-speed metal fortified with Jon Lord's lusty Hammondorgan sound and the brass-knuckle guitar of Ritchie Blackmore.

The band has spiked its old hammer-and-anvil sound with a little future tech here and there: "The Unwritten Law" features subtly deployed electro-hand-claps and percolating sequencer amid its clenched-fist chorus and Blackmore's loco fretwork. But it's only when Purple turns on the retro-charm full blast that The House of Blue Light really goes up in flames. "Hard Lovin' Woman" and "Dead or Alive" are both body-slam rockers in the old blitzkrieg spirit of "Speed King" and "Fireball," while Paice's sledgehammer-of-the-gods drumming and Blackmore's punch-your-lights-out chords keep "Call of the Wild," with its atypically poppy hook, from turning into neo-Boston fluff.

Fortunately, all that crash 'n' burn also obscures most of the album's lyric embarrassments. Although Gillan is hardly the Alan Alda of heavy metal, "Mitzi Dupree," a heavy-plodding blues, may be a new low in rock-star sexism ("I said what is this queen of the ping pong business/She smiled what do you think/It has no connection with China/I said oow have another drink"). But aside from the rather purple poetry, the ho-hum Armageddon stomp "Strangeways" and a notable lack throughout the album of classic Blackmore psycho-chicken-scratch soloing, The House of Blue Light is a surprisingly strong return from the tar pits. There's no "Smoke on the Water" here, but Deep Purple still has a pretty good fire going down below. (RS 494)

DAVID FRICKE