The grossly oversimplistic title gives the first clue to the music within. Secondly, the promo lit says the true sobriquet is The Story (indefinite / definite article problems, I guess). Third, there's no story whatsoever to this amateur set of instrumental New Age songs with a bad liner and grammar problems. Citing the Private Music label as a touchstone, Martino falls well short, more an adjunct of the East coast's Synthetic Pleasure Underground from whence Yanni, whom Martino claims as an influence, issued, much to the infamous drekmeister's present embarassment. Granted, Martino manages some nice passages here and there, somewhat a la Yanni, Pat O'Hearn, and Mo Foster, but throws in such a profusion of cheezoid patches while failing to capitalize on compositional directions that he quashes multiple lunges at authenticity (an adjective I hate to use with New Age-ism). The guy's not untalented, just indiscreet, taking the path of least resistance each time out. Elements of Cusco, Eko, and other ensembles peek shyly through but too quickly get trampled underfoot by the pedestrian. Then there's the uneven engineering…from a guy professes to be a professional recordist. I'm reminded more than a little of David Borden's bedroom solo synth works, and of the fact that every time I don't go gaga over some New Age release, I have to hear from John Diliberto about how "unfair" I'm being. Perhaps I'll be lucky, and all three will be at some limp third-rate prog fest when this review gets posted.
Yeah…like I'd be so lucky.
Edited by: David N. Pyles
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