Review Summary: Deep Purple doing what Deep Purple has always done
Deep Purple have always struck me as the slightly underappreciated member of British hard rock’s celebrated trinity. They formed in early 1968, before either Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath, and had two albums out in America before either rival released a debut. Yet their Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction did not arrive until 2016, following Zeppelin’s in 1995 and Sabbath’s in 2006. The reverence surrounding those two bands can obscure just how adventurous Purple were, especially when they were allowed to improvise. Even within their own language and catalogue,
Fireball tends to suffer from its position between
In Rock and
Machine Head, though its restless mixture of styles is precisely what makes it so appealing to me. Those departures and general agitation are exactly what defined Deep Purple’s career. Beyond the towering riffs, I have always loved this band for the possibilities opened up when its musicians start playing off one another and embracing more playing styles.
Splat! offers enough of that pleasure to make a new Deep Purple album welcome in 2026. Their second record with Simon McBride, again produced by Bob Ezrin, gathers familiar hard rock, blues and progressive inclinations into a polished collection of short songs. Everything stays under five minutes, and the arrangements make efficient use of that space. There is considerable skill here, along with a willingness to vary the mood. My enthusiasm becomes more qualified over a full listen, however. Several songs could use stronger hooks, and the instrumental exchanges repeatedly leave me wishing the band had allowed itself a little more freedom.
The attraction is easily detectable whenever McBride and Don Airey get involved in an exchange. The unruly organ in
The Lunatic brings out the livelier side of their partnership, while the boogie of
Jessica’s Bra recalls the easy swing of
Lazy. Ian Paice and Roger Glover remain essential to the appeal, giving these passages the rhythmic assurance they need without making them feel rigid. The immediate thrust of
Arrogant Boy benefits just as much from that foundation. For all the attention inevitably directed towards the guitar, Purple still sounds most convincing when the whole group gets involved.
Having yet to hear
=1, I am encountering McBride’s studio work with the band for the first time here. He’s done a great job, leaving a lasting impression, and Steve Morse was right to endorse him as his successor. His phrasing has expression and character, and the Middle Eastern flavour of the solo in
Guilt Trippin’, followed by delicate piano, is among the album’s most rewarding touches. He also contributes far beyond the designated solo spots. I am less taken with some of his busier flourishes, where the tapping and rapid runs bring Van Halen and Malmsteen to mind. That is partly a matter of taste. I prefer the more organic approach he is plainly capable of, particularly in a band whose guitar work has so often flourished through its interaction with the keyboards.
It might seem odd to ask for more instrumental space while finding some of the playing excessive. What I miss is the opportunity for an idea to develop, with room for the musicians to respond to one another. A tightly packed burst of technique offers a different pleasure. The keyboard-led atmosphere of
The Rider and the more expansive moments elsewhere suggest avenues that these compact arrangements only briefly explore. I would happily trade some of the less engaging material for a fuller development of those passages.
My New Movie, for instance, leaves a slighter impression, and there are stretches across the record where accomplished playing cannot quite hold my attention. The variety helps, but too few of the songs become as memorable as their best individual moments.
Gillan is similarly uneven. His voice retains considerable appeal within a comfortable range, particularly in the bluesier delivery of
The Beating of Wings. There is enough personality there to carry a song without demanding the extremes of his younger years. The more strained or exaggerated performances are harder to enjoy, and some of the vocal and guitar effects become distractions. The loose concept gives him plenty of scope for theatricality, imagining humanity’s end as a transformation beyond physical existence. I appreciate the peculiar imagination behind it, though the vocal experiments do not always make the material more compelling.
Taken together, these reservations leave
Splat! as a respectable, if uneven hard rock entry in Purple’s immense catalog. I enjoy the group’s chemistry and McBride’s contribution, yet the songwriting does not consistently reward the attention the performances invite. A few sharper choruses and a less restrictive approach to the instrumental sections could have made a substantial difference. Deep Purple’s history gives me every reason to listen, but my affection for that history cannot supply what the weaker songs lack.
Gillan’s public comments about his failing eyesight also deserve some acknowledgement here, especially since he has clarified that they were not an announcement of retirement. He has said he would stop when he no longer felt strong enough to continue. I would want the band to carry on only while its members feel able and willing, and
Splat! leaves me unconvinced that another conventional studio release is necessarily their most promising option. A collaborative record welcoming former members could be a wonderful way to celebrate one of rock’s most successful groups, perhaps with more room for instrumental work and fewer demands on Gillan. That prospect appeals to me enormously. I would love to hear musicians from across Purple’s history playing together again, with the freedom to follow wherever the music takes them. If
Splat! proves to be Deep Purple’s final bow, it is a worthy farewell. They deserve a standing ovation for a body of work that is nothing less than monumental.
Recommended tracks:
Arrogant Boy
Diablo (Vinyl & Japanese CD only)
The Rider
Sacred Land
The Beating of Wings
Guilt Trippn'
Splat!
