Whilst 1990's 'Pornograffitti' made me vomit, I was still man enough to appreciate its greater moments, and there were indeed a few big, brassy tracks on offer. however, clocking in at a mighty 80 minutes, 'III Sides...' is an extraordinary record, catapulting Extreme to new heights occupied previously by the likes of Van Halen and Kiss. This is stadium rock, bolstered by the guitar heroics of Nuno Bettencourt and those silky Cherone tones. Opener 'Warheads' could be just another wock track if it wasn't for that sugary chorus, and 'Rest In Peace' is an irritatingly catchy, uptempo rocker awash with colours that slots between that Saigon Kick groove and the mightiest of bands such as Queen.
Extreme could well have been a gargantuan rock act. Able to churn out and weave together a myriad of styles, from funk to sleaze, and a bit of glam and pop, the complexities of the band are clear to hear, as horns accompany searing solo's. The funk twang of 'Politicalamity' swaggers into its strutting chorus. Extreme suddenly becoming one of those sugary, diverse rock acts...but one which actually made it! Strange to consider when alterno-metal during the late '80s and early '90s was much talked about but fizzled, and yet Extreme, for all their irritable dabblings, although never slotted alongside the likes of Saigon Kick, FNM, Mindfunk etc, have somehow risen through the ashes of several trends, to be considered such a monolithic metal act. The sweeping, soulful 'Color Me Blind' has Nuno chugging with the best, but at once, like so many of the tracks on the album, their is a haunting melody patched together with synth-driven '80s rock, and that air of futuristic alien metal which so many other bands attempted but failed miserably. I'm not sure how this album sold, I've no doubt that this would have been appreciated by prog rock fans and those with a serious musical knowledge, but there's no cheesy 'Get The Funk Out' to pump the party, because the band are clearly too talented to succumb to cheese. 'Cupid's Dead' effortlessly jerks into motion, backed by a funk riff which Mordred had used a year or so earlier. Cherone's vocals are immense, somewhere between Dave Lee Roth and that alterno-funko-metal brigade. My only real quib being are Cherone's rappy chops on 'Cupid...', and admittedly, the track does sound a little too like Fishbone's 'Freddies Dead'.
Extreme could well have been a gargantuan rock act. Able to churn out and weave together a myriad of styles, from funk to sleaze, and a bit of glam and pop, the complexities of the band are clear to hear, as horns accompany searing solo's. The funk twang of 'Politicalamity' swaggers into its strutting chorus. Extreme suddenly becoming one of those sugary, diverse rock acts...but one which actually made it! Strange to consider when alterno-metal during the late '80s and early '90s was much talked about but fizzled, and yet Extreme, for all their irritable dabblings, although never slotted alongside the likes of Saigon Kick, FNM, Mindfunk etc, have somehow risen through the ashes of several trends, to be considered such a monolithic metal act. The sweeping, soulful 'Color Me Blind' has Nuno chugging with the best, but at once, like so many of the tracks on the album, their is a haunting melody patched together with synth-driven '80s rock, and that air of futuristic alien metal which so many other bands attempted but failed miserably. I'm not sure how this album sold, I've no doubt that this would have been appreciated by prog rock fans and those with a serious musical knowledge, but there's no cheesy 'Get The Funk Out' to pump the party, because the band are clearly too talented to succumb to cheese. 'Cupid's Dead' effortlessly jerks into motion, backed by a funk riff which Mordred had used a year or so earlier. Cherone's vocals are immense, somewhere between Dave Lee Roth and that alterno-funko-metal brigade. My only real quib being are Cherone's rappy chops on 'Cupid...', and admittedly, the track does sound a little too like Fishbone's 'Freddies Dead'.
Fourteen cuts on offer here, the band still not as bloated after the success of the previous record, but clearly intent on alienating anyone seeking a disposable pop metal record. Extreme have split the album into three parts, titled 'Yours', 'Mine' '7 The Truth', and it's the middle section which has echoes of true genius. yes, genius. 'Seven Sundays' is a breezy, lavish, Beatle-esque piano-laden love song which melts into the acoustic spectre that is 'Tragic Comic'. Try as you may to detest Extreme, by this point their ability to craft so many classic rock tracks is bewildering. 'Our Father', and 'Stop The World' (which reminds me of 'Song For Love' in its structure) follow suit into beautiful arena's of grace and crystal. The third section of the record is even more gargantuan in idea and production than previous chapters. For some by this point the record is already too long, and the lack of metal may infuriate anyone looking for a little bit of chug, but one can only be mesmerised by the anthemic, lush drama of 'Everything Under The Sun', the band incorporating all manner of instrument's for full effect, leaving the listener dripping in tears. 'Am I Ever Gonna Change' and 'Who Cares ?' enable the sunlight to blast through the windows, the former a guitar driven fist pumper, Bettencourt's wild solo's veering of into giddy stratosphere's, Cherone's voice excelling, the percussion sharp and bombastic.
By the time 'III Sides...' is over, you'll find yourself lost in its greenery, a dense, confusing landscape of mellowing skies and heavenly pasture's, but a place so alien. How Extreme got to this point I'll never know....but on this occasion, they brought with them the kitchen sink and played this soundtrack within its hallowed walls as if it was their last moment on Earth. Heavenly.
9/10
