This is the album that made
John McLaughlin a semi-household name, a furious, high-energy, yet rigorously conceived meeting of virtuosos that, for all intents and purposes, defined the
fusion of
jazz and
rock a year after
Miles Davis'
Bitches Brew breakthrough. It also inadvertently led to the derogatory connotation of the word
fusion, for it paved the way for an army of imitators, many of whose excesses and commercial panderings devalued the entire movement. Though much was made of the influence of
jazz-influenced
improvisation in the
Mahavishnu band, it is the
rock element that predominates, stemming directly from the
electronic innovations of
Jimi Hendrix. The
improvisations, particularly
McLaughlin's post-
Hendrix machine-gun assaults on double-necked electric guitar and
Jerry Goodman's flights on electric violin, owe more to the freakouts that had been circulating in
progressive rock circles than to
jazz, based as they often are on ostinatos on one chord. These still sound genuinely thrilling today on CD, as
McLaughlin and
Goodman battle
Jan Hammer's keyboards,
Rick Laird's bass, and especially
Billy Cobham's hard-charging drums, whose
jazz-trained technique pushed the envelope for all
rock drummers. What doesn't date so well are the composed medium- and high-velocity unison passages that are played in such tight lockstep that they can't breathe. There is also time out for quieter, reflective numbers that are drenched in studied spirituality (
"A Lotus on Irish Streams") or irony (
"You Know You Know");
McLaughlin was to do better in that department with less-driven colleagues elsewhere in his career. Aimed with absolute precision at young
rock fans, this record was wildly popular in its day, and it may have been the cause of more blown-out home amplifiers than any other record this side of
Deep Purple. ~ Richard S. Ginell
