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by Barb Stearns
Anyone with a single copy of this album recognizes that phrase; it's an anonymous adage, but a proper one for Journey's sixth studio album. Departure was a final note on one section of the band's history and set the tone for the next phase all at once. Fans and critics alike took the album title as a clear signal that the band was through; but they were only through with the way they'd been doing things. Journey tended to do things in threes, and this was the final third of a set that demonstrated the band's new vocal and songwriting capabilities.
The band hired Geoff Workman, who had been Roy Thomas Baker's engineer on past albums, and Kevin Elson, the band's live sound engineer. The change resulted in a sound that was different than people were accustomed to hearing, slightly rawer than the grand, polished edges that Evolution or Infinity afforded. Journey sailed straight into the 80's, but not without looking back. As his last effort with the band, Gregg Rolie counts Departure as one of his favorites.
According to Gregg, from the 1980 program 'Innerview' with Jim Ladd:
"What we did was stand around one mike and sing. We used an older recording technique, really, by doing everything 'live.' [A] lot of things were done all at once. We therefore did the album in record time."
Perry was isolated for 'bleeding' purposes, so they wouldn't have to scrap an entire track to redo the lead vocal. But the band played all their parts together, in one room, all at once, as if they were doing a live set. Released in March of 1980, the album hit #8 on the Billboard Top 100 on the 22nd of that same month, and had reached platinum status by July.
Unfortunately, it took me until 1987 to realize this album existed. My sister didn't own it. I was too young to drive, and I walked to the nearest record store to get it. They had one lonely copy of it which I immediately squirreled away and listened to a thousand times until I broke the tape. This is my first Journey album, the one I discovered by myself, and it was the soundtrack for my mid-teens. Over time, for some mysterious reason, I've collected seven total copies of it, vinyl, cassette and CD, and broken a few. So if I get a little long-winded here, forgive me. I'd still walk to a record store to get it...if I didn't already own seven copies, that is.
The first track on the album was also the first single: Anyway You Want It starts the album off with a bright, ringing tone, and it's pretty hard to forget hearing it come booming out of Rodney Dangerfield's golf bag during Caddyshack. It was the band's first foray into the world of soundtracks. Straightforward rock 'n' roll with straightforward lyrics, described by Steve Perry as "a nasty song" regarding a woman who was willing to "engage in all kinds of fun behavior."
According to Gregg, the band used a Mellotron that was a "noisy piece of garbage" because they couldn't get another, and they ended up combining it with a Hammond organ to produce a unique sound that they chose to keep.
The fact is, the entire album was a unique sound that they chose to keep. Departure as a whole was a leap of faith, requiring the band to stretch out and see if the market -- like the ice on a newly frozen lake -- would hold their weight. They decided to retain a solid core sound and let the rest take care of itself without allowing themselves to succumb to the British New Wave era, trying to become more themselves without wearing it out. Something like that works well or it doesn't at all, and the consequences could have meant a plummet into the abyss.
Tunes like the second track fall into the "becoming more themselves" category: Walks Like A Lady, with its faintly Dylanesque lyrics, is a reminder that blues would never leave the band. Perry walked into the rehearsal studio at S.I.R. one afternoon and picked up a bass, inspired by a new girlfriend. Neal caught him at it and layered in a few blues riffs, leaving room for Gregg's Hammond and for Smith's intuitively jazz-based soul to add brushes to the background. The result is an all-time favorite in the band's live set and proof that you didn't need to scream to be heard in the 80's.
The basic tone of the album was intended to be positive, to "just give a little positive thought during times where maybe you don't have so many," according to Rolie. Two tracks in particular fit that mold, and to this day avoid sounding trite. The folksy, resoundingly hopeful Precious Time sports my all-time favorite lyric: "If you're lookin' for a better day/check the sky and see." Gregg's harmonica work (something he hadn't done since his Santana Blues Band days) stays within the confines of a bluesy/folk vein but is barely structured otherwise, preserving the one-take honesty of the album. Someday Soon does the same, with a rolling texture and cyclical feel that builds continually. Spare drum work except for the fills toward the end let the listener concentrate on that texture; and those same fills don't detract from the high, celestial harmonies that cap the song.
Journey shook off the remaining legginess of their years as a young band by recording those two tracks, with or without the inclusion of People And Places. The band had begun to move toward purposely acknowledging their fans in their songwriting by this time, something that would move into heavier focus on their next album (no...Greg Carpenter already reviewed the Next album. I'm talking about Escape, guys. Heh). [reviewed here] Vocals from Neal and a good, harmonizing trade-off on the leads were nothing new for the band, but the echoing factor and flowing bass line were. The signature slow start, building to a slightly heavier chorus, assured fans that the band wasn't straying anywhere too far from familiar territory, and Where Were You drove the point home, proving the band would go on stepping out like they always had.
Did I say "stepping out?" The guitar solo on Line Of Fire is still my all time favorite; it's one of Neal's least complicated creations, but the sonics and keyboard accompaniment make it a stunner. You don't have to have seen Neal and Gregg, or later Neal and Jon on the Frontiers tour, pull this off live to really appreciate it, but it helps. They had to stay flawlessly in synch (no...not *N Sync) at a high speed, and it's the audible equivalent of jumping between cars on the freeway. It's musical stunt work.
I'm Cryin' has the quality of being a lament without wallowing in the premise of it; again there's a stab at a bluesy vein but they don't let it bleed to death. Neal's background guitar work lends an almost ominous, fateful tone while the stuff he does in the foreground manages to counter with a suggestion of hope, in keeping with the general tone of the album. This tune gets underrated because no one can dance to it. If you can dance to it, at least close the drapes first so's you don't scare the neighbors.
The title track is another example of something Journey has always been able to pull off for effect: the short instrumental. Majestic was the grand version, and Departure is the quieter sibling. It never evokes the suggestion that it was tossed in as filler. Instead, it's a precursor to a change in tone, an intro to the next two songs -- Good Morning Girl and Stay Awhile. The former is a short, sweet and lilting thing with the added touch of a string arrangement by Neal's father, Matthew, and the latter is a tune that has rarely if ever left the band's live set since being written. Stay Awhile segues too perfectly with Lights, and the lyrics are touchingly sentimental without inducing diabetic coma. Most female fans will admit to singing this song out loud at Journey concerts whilst affixing their adoring gaze upon one particular band member or another. Most guys are too scared to admit it, though.
Now, you've been waiting for this: what the heck is a "jelly roll sweetie?" Without veering right off the family-friendly path and finding ourselves standing on the side of the road in the weeds somewhere (quick--name that documentary), it's safe to say it's a "very young girl." Arguably the most risqué' song the band ever attempted for public consumption, Homemade Love alludes to the groupie scene as it stood in the late 70's and early 80's. Crunchier guitar in the chorus and the general pattern of the track made this one reminiscent of La Do Da. Don't forget the shuffle pattern and hi hat Smitty worked magic on in the background, and those vocals at the end. I lost a perfectly good hamster to a couple of those high notes.
The general tone of the album and the corner the band had turned without slamming face-first into it made fans wonder where they were headed, never realizing the stage had been set to allow the band to release an album that would make them the best thing since sliced bread during the following year.
Well, maybe not sliced bread. There's a root beer called Journey, though. I guess that's close enough.
Would there have been an Escape without a Departure? Sure. But the band may not have been ready for it without the leaping-off place that Departure afforded, without faith in themselves, their fans...or their place in the music world.
Copyright © 1994-2006 Dan Stacy, Journey Digest, JourneyDigest.com
No portion of this article may be reprinted without express written permission from the author and JourneyDigest.com