Top 10: Steve Morse Era Deep Purple Songs

Over the weekend, the hard and heavy world was shook by the announcement that after 28 years, Steve Morse was leaving Deep Purple. For those who’ve lost track of time, this makes Morse the longest serving guitarist in the band’s history, having played in Purple 12 years longer than the legendary Ritchie Blackmore. When Morse joined the band in 1994, he knew as well as any other guitarist that Blackmore’s shoes were impossible to fill. So he did the next best thing by adding his own blend of technicality, charisma, and finesse to the Purple palette. This “jazz fusion gone metal” approach would carry Purple through 8 studio albums that have cemented themselves as modern day classics. Today, we attempt to boil these 8 albums down to their 10 finest cuts. Join us in this monumental tribute to a monumental talent. All the best Steve!

10. “Silver Tongue”

For whatever reason or another, 2003’s Bananas gets a bad wrap as one of the “weakest” Purple albums. I never understood why, unless it’s simply a matter of people judging a book, or in this case, an album, but its cover. Ridiculous title and album art aside, Bananas is chock full of killer rockers, like the soulful “Razzle Dazzle”, anthemic “House of Pain”, and this here song, “Silver Tongue”. 99.9% of the time, I would slam a classic band for incorporating electronic noises and chug riffing into a song. However, to paraphrase the lyrics at hand, “they may be crazy, but they’re not stupid”. Purple knew how to tip their hat to modernity, even if for one song, without sacrificing their identity.

9. “Watching the Sky”

There’s no denying that the older Purple got, the less they cared about being the archetypal traditional metal band. After all, where could you go from “Speed King”, “Highway Star”, and “Fireball”? Now this isn’t to say Purple couldn’t be heavy when they wanted to. They could, and they sure did so on “Watching the Sky”, whose alternation between old school metal riffage and eerie mellow passages create a sublime effect. Gillan’s vocals range from whispers to screams, the rhythm pocket is insanely tight, and Morse unleashes some crushing hooks and a blistering solo to boot. Musicianship doesn’t get more wicked than this!

8. “Money Talks”

Groovy and gutsy with a take no prisoners approach, “Money Talks” kicks off Purple’s 2005 album, Rapture of the Deep, in grand fashion. Morse’s riffing and Don Airey’s organ stylings pay tribute to the formula originated by Blackmore and Jon Lord respectively, yet without trying to ape either giant and simultaneously breaking new ground. Together, the dynamic duo helped Ian Gillan, Roger Glover, and Ian Paice stay creatively fresh, pushing them to their boundaries as musicians, songwriters, and arrangers. The quintet’s team work is on full display here. If there were a “Greatest Hits of the Morse Era” compilation, there’s no doubt “Money Talks” should be the opener.

7. “Seventh Heaven”

And here we are back again with another song off 1998’s Abandon. Scratch that: Another HEAVY song off 1998’s Abandon. I’ve always felt this album is the heaviest of the Morse era. With cuts like “Seventh Heaven”, could you disagree? The riffing on here is so dark and doomy, almost more characteristic of Black Sabbath or 90s Dio than Purple. Just like “Watching the Sky”, the gentler sections aren’t a “break” by any means, but rather an emphasis on the heaviness and insanity on display. Morse’s solo lies somewhere between classic metal rager and Dixie Dregs jam session; a quality which made his contribution to the band that much more unique.

6. “Man Alive”

Whoosh! You hear that? It’s the sound of mankind ceasing to exist, senseless victims of their own folly. The lyrical trope of mass apocalypse is nothing new in metal, dating back to Sabbath’s earliest releases. Yet there’s something downright unsettling in hearing these themes explored by one of metal’s eldest statesmen. It’s as if us youngsters, spanning across the farthest reaches of black, death, thrash, grind, and whatever other extreme subgenres or amalgamations that lie therein, look upon Purple as oracles. Their message to us: “You’re screwed.” Granted, they put it far more eloquently than that on the epic “Man Alive”: An ode to the end times that most bands half Purple’s age would kill to pen. At the time of its release (2020), Purple were celebrating 52 years as a band. I’ll give you time to digest that.

5. “Loosen My Strings”

Although Purple has not been the same musically since Blackmore’s 1993 departure, from a creative viewpoint, it was the smartest move they made. While The Battle Rages On… (1993) had its moments, it’s creatively stale next to the classic Mk. II albums and Perfect Strangers (1984). The same can be said for Slaves and Masters (1990) and The House of Blue Light (1987). When Morse joined the fold for 1996’s Purpendicular, the band got their mojo back, combining all the musical elements that made them great and exploring new ones too. Take for example the moody “Loosen My Strings”. This atmospherically vast composition could very well be a distant cousin of “Perfect Strangers”, but stands on its own as a majestic masterpiece of sound and emotion.

4. “Time for Bedlam”

Has it really been 5 years since Purple dropped Infinite? It feels like just yesterday I picked up the album the day of its release, dropped the needle on the vinyl, and was greeted by this gripping nod to the Mk. II years. “Time for Bedlam” is one of the darkest and heaviest songs of Purple’s nearly 55 years career, not just musically, but lyrically. Gillan displays a rather cynical view throughout this entire album, but on here? Holy smokes. The lyric “Sucking my milk from the venomous tit of the state.” has lived rent free in my head from the moment I first heard it. Again, Morse and Airey amplify the extremity of the lyrics with their cacophonous array of guitar and organ noises. Sheer brilliance.

3. “Uncommon Man”

The very being of Purple was shaken to its core on July 16, 2012, when keyboardist and founder Jon Lord lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. Although he hadn’t been in the band for a decade, Lord remained a key player in the band until the hand, having even handpicked Don Airey as his successor. In true Purple fashion, the band paid tribute to their fallen brother the only way they could: With an epic symphonic metal opus. Lyrically, “Uncommon Man” explores Lord’s regal-like personality and greatness. Musically, it’s a nod to his love of classical music and the way he incorporated those elements into Purple. Without his musical genius and knowhow, there’s no telling if Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Mercyful Fate, and the likes would go onto compose their own masterworks.

2. “Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming”

One thing Deep Purple isn’t known for are their ballads. When they do go this softer route, there has to be good reason for such…and it has to be done with one ethos in mind: Go big or go home. “Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming” doesn’t just “go big”. It goes massive. This multifaceted suite tows the line between hard and soft rock, conveying an array of emotions, and is still distinctly Purple. Again, here’s an example of each band member complimenting each other, with no one outdoing anyone. Gillan screams, Morse shreds, Lord’s organ screams, and the rhythm section pounds, but by no means are they “showing off”. This, my friends, is the magic of Purple.

1. “Vavoom: Ted the Mechanic”

The following is how I like to believe “Vavoom: Ted the Mechanic” came about…

Ian Gillan: Say laddie! Now that you’re in the band, got any songs you’d like to give a shot?
Steve Morse: Well, there’s this one that I wanted to put on a Dixie Dregs album, but never got around to it.

Their loss, Purple’s gain. Granted, I’m sure it was a lot more complicated than this, but “Vavoom: Ted the Mechanic” is hands down the greatest Dixie Dregs song never recorded. It’s a jazz metal banger that grooves harder than most so called groove metal songs and throws down even harder. It’s also the first song on Purple’s first album with Morse, Purpendicular. Talk about a first impression! Morse cements his status as an A league riff master and soloist with a ferocious display of fretwork insanity. Ritchie who? Cuts like this are a reminder of just how much Morse will be missed in the Purple fold, but I can’t help but be grateful for his contributions. Can I get a “vavoom”?!