"You get some writers saying, 'Why don't you do something like you did before?' They think they really want it but at the same time they really don't want you to repeat yourself."
– Van Morrison (NME, 25/6/77).

How true. Sometimes you just can't win.

The Isley Brothers are currently on the critical chopping block; out of favour with a lot of white writers (not so with black American record buyers) for failing to match their 'That Lady' single and 3+3 album on the one hand and for repeating themselves on the other.

It seems to me that critics' confusion only really became acute when albums usurped singles in the industry's affection. In earlier days hadn't Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley repeated themselves? The one musically, the other in every way. Hadn't every notable blues man repeated himself? Didn't Fats Domino repeat himself? Superficially, of course they did. That was the whole point. That's what made them distinctive and influential. They forged an identity through repetition.

Ardent fans of any one artist could pinpoint subtle changes during the relatively short periods (five to seven years is supposed to be the creative life of all but the most gifted artists) that suggested a definable style to less involved listeners. But that's an academic truism that doesn't affect the generalisation. In the long term though, any artist who's going to survive as more than a memory or a living example of musical history has to obey the natural law that everything changes.

Which is precisely why The Isley Brothers are still hustling at the top of the heap. Since their recording debut in 1957 they've shed at least five outdated skins; with 'Shout' in 1959, with 'Twist And Shout' in 1962, when they joined Motown in 1966, with 'It's Your Thing' in 1969 and with 'That Lady' in 1973. But that last stage of evolution took place in the album era. When they cut a string of moderately similar 45s for Motown in the late 60s it was cool as long as the songs were good. Now that they've cut a string of moderately similar albums for T-Neck / Epic in the mid-70s it's decidely unhip, even though the standard of material and musicianship is pretty consistent.

Considering that critics theoretically exist for the general public's benefit, it's right that they should cast a more severe eye on LPs than they do on 45s. For a larger outlay we all want a larger return, right? Nevertheless, I detect a certain degree of over-compensation in recent years. Not content with letting artists evolve at their own speed we're all demanding revolutionary masterworks every time. Well, balls to all of that, If The Isley Brothers are going to continue to survive, history shows that they're due for a shake-up very soon anyway. In the meantime, enjoy their post-'That Lady' style while it's still good.

This is their first recording at Bearsville Studios; a detail that may or may not account for the excellent sound quality (it was re-mixed elsewhere) which is sharp and presents them more powerfully than previous albums. Their musical statement is couched in much the same terms as before; a mix of churning insistent r&b, post- Hendrix guitar work and ethereal melodies, supporting lyrics that are never astounding but fortunately never quite collapse into total stupidity or pretension either.

By far the finest track is one of their melodious ballads, 'Voyage To Atlantis', which isn't half as silly as the title implies (just a bit wet) and is superbly sung by Ronald, who is bathed in the echo of his own purity like a choirboy preaching from the nave of some vast aluminum cathedral.

No, the album isn't an unprecedented change of direction or an adventurous development of their established style. But it is an excellent example of the latter; all of it amounting to their best LP since 3+3 and 'Voyage To Atlantis' being the equal of anything they've ever recorded. What's wrong with that?