Easy it may be to forget Peter Frampton is a rock and roll legend, but it’s not like he’s going out of his way to prove it. Carry the Light, his first studio album in five years, is a long way from the last time he came alive. But with tributes to Tom Petty and suggestions of decades-old rock knowledge, it is at least worth testing the waters Frampton has splashed around in for so long. Now is the time to cash in favours, pay your respects, and provide a bit of love to the long-serving guitarist. Frampton pulls in the likes of Sheryl Crow and Bill Evans for songs that needed just a session musician. It’s easy to write off these inclusions as draws for fans of said artists, but it’s not as egregious as the Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr duet. No, this is built solely on the engagement and enjoyment that comes from working with friends, and that’s exactly how Carry the Light sounds. Light and fun, but that does not excuse the lyrical quality, or lack thereof.
Dated rock logic perseveres across Carry the Light. Its opening, title track is a ludicrously simple piece of work that relies on chanting, listening to elders, and sluggish instrumental sentimentality. Forgotten times dominate Carry the Light, which risks becoming a compilation of what Frampton has left behind and never bothered to note down, until now. Songs that’re fun yet forgettable, that’s the tone which dominates this Frampton latest. After a tame introduction, Frampton was bound to head only one way. Buried Treasure is lazy, plodding dialogue between a performer who should know better and a listener who’ll have heard better today, let alone this year. Unfortunate for Frampton is that he writes songs about creativity as a spark of new life, Breaking the Mold, and yet slots right into the familiar guitar structure of his previous albums. His voice is still strong, though he doesn’t use that wizened spirit that could’ve been loaned to some of these lesser songs.
Songs like I Can’t Let it Be highlights the typical formula that comes with Carry the Light. A striking guitar solo here and then it’s back to usual form, plodding along with some typical instrumental stylings. Even Lions at the Gate, a song that’ll have you hearing “tear down the liars,” rather than the animal in the title, feels rather toothless. Frampton’s fight for the people is, vocally and instrumentally, strong work, but lyrically it’s a damnable piece. Plain sailing and obvious commentaries on the horrors of war and the needless death that comes with it. It’s hardly a new route into rock and roll, and Islamorada highlights that best of all. Traditional rock tones with a sickly-sweet string section in the background. Embarrassingly enough, this is a peak for Carry the Light.
A bit of saxophone here, a backing vocalist there, it all feels relatively safe and tame. Frampton does have the license to make songs which sound like this, but it remains a lacking experience. Carry the Light, but make sure it’s in working order, Frampton. The light is on, but nobody is home but Frampton, and he’s fast asleep here. It doesn’t make much of a difference, this material. Back to the coalface of The All-Starr Band for Frampton at this rate. Passive, plodding instrumental work that’ll settle as an easy listen for dedicated fans. It’s like the time Mark Knopfler put out some noodling guitar work and fans lapped it up because of the name value. So too it shall be for Frampton, whose work on Tinderbox is a sign that, while his instrumental skill remains, his way with words has abandoned him.
Discover more from Cult Following
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
