If someone played you the first track off of Maserati's 2002 album, The Language of Cities, and followed that with the first track off of their latest album, you'd probably think you just listened to two different bands. While there have been some personnel shifts-- the rhythm section on Pyramid of the Sun isn't the same one the group had eight years ago-- that only scratches the surface in what's changed with the group. It takes more than just plugging in a new guitarist and drummer to go from making serviceable instrumental music in a mathematical vein to talk-boxed space-bound synth-prog. The latter sound is more in line with what instrumental duo Zombi coax from their Moogs, and Zombi's Steve Moore does indeed make a few appearances on Pyramid. And even though Zombi and Maserati did share some wax last year on a split EP, that Maserati would go so far as to emulate Zombi's sounds-- more specifically, the sounds that Zombi themselves emulate-- probably wasn't a move most would have expected.
Pyramid covers a fair amount of ground over the course of its eight tracks, from the Jan Hammer moves on the Moore-abetted "Oaxaca" to the more familiar rock-based grooves laid down for "We Got the System to Fight the System". The man who makes Maserati most able to cover this wide swath of territory is the late Jerry Fuchs. When Fuchs joined the band on the drums for 2007's Inventions for the New Season, his impact was felt immediately. His playing, powerful and precise while also exhibiting a little looseness, provided a solid foundation that gave the rest of the group the space to explore and expand their horizons. On Pyramid, that solid base takes on a more motorik feel. On something scuzzy like the short and sweet "Ruins", it creates an air that harkens back to early Trans Am (specifically The Surveillance). On a shinier tune like "They'll No More Suffer From Thirst", Fuchs' machine-like accuracy fits in perfectly with the pastel-colored synths and scratchy guitar. Throughout the album, Fuchs' playing is exemplary, but not in a showy or needlessly florid manner; he simply gets to work and gets the job done, content with being just one part of a greater whole.
Fittingly, Fuchs' finest moment on Pyramid, "Bye M'Friend, Goodbye", is also his most workman-like. At first, the track has a hymn-like feel, with wordless sonorous moaning happening in front of an arpeggiating synthesizer and a slowly shaken tambourine. Soon guitars enter the fray, offering polite yet cheerful counterpoint to the track's solemnity. Finally, fading in from the background, is Fuchs; his slowly approaching beat opens up the song, transforming the song's processional gait into a joyous and exuberant sprint. And while his bandmates cavort and canter with glee, there's Fuchs, doing his job, making it all possible. This song is as fine a tribute and send-off as one could hope for, and is an equally appropriate way to draw the curtain on this phase of Maserati's career.
