[rating=3.00]
Some four years in the making, Mark Karan’s Walk Through The Fire nevertheless sounds like it was recorded in a single inspired yet relaxed moment of inspiration. The songs, the arrangements and the musicians are all in sync and the combination of Karan’s self-production and Gavin Lurssen’s mastering preserves the warmth as well as the clarity of the album’s sound.
There’s a mix of styles that extends beyond the R & B and reggae blend that appears on "Annie Don’t Lie." The straightforward harmony singing on "Leave a Light On" has more to do with pop than soul, as is the case with the title song. The material here derives from an unusual range of sources, including Joe Jackson ("Fools in Love") and Robert Hunter ("Easy Wind"), among others: the former features an authentic reggae arrangement Bob Marley would be proud of, while Pigpen would certainly approve of the latter as it churns the album to conclusion. Karan’s own originals, like the spooky "Time Will Tell," stand proudly next to those selections, as both compositions and performances.
The latter features Karan’s slide guitar as he wends his leisurely way through the band’s interaction. Mark’s solos and fills never call attention to themselves, but add appropriate decoration to their respective tracks. He is also judicious enough to align himself with a lengthy roster of wizened musicians, including drummer John Molo, vocal ensemble The Persuasions plus Frisco keyboardist Pete Sears. All contribute to the air of camaraderie, but no one more so that Little Feat’s Bill Payne, whose piano adds to the jaunty feel of "Rock Your Papa:" it’s a vivid contrast to the ominous air of the preceding track, a take on Robert Johnson’s "Love in Vain," where the late Delaney Bramlett’s singing conjures a ghostly air.
By the time the ode to "Memphis Radio" appears, it occurs that, with Walk Through The Fire, Mark Karan has staked out plenty of fertile turf for his future projects. He could conceivably build an entire album around the sunny likes of that cut or this subdued, sensitive reading of Randy Newman’s "Think It’s Gonna Rain" and it’d be as successful as this diverse piece of work, if executed with similar taste and restraint.
