Bring It On Back

Put Warren Huart, Dominique Xavier Taplin, Jon Button and Robert “Sput” Searight in one room with Steve Maggiora and something is going to catch fire. The only question is whether the groove escapes containment.

On “Bring It On Back,” it does.

Huart’s guitar is the first exposed wire: crisp, bright and precise without losing its sting. Taplin’s keyboards move underneath like warm current, filling the harmonic space without turning it into upholstery. Jon Button’s bass does the unglamorous criminal work—locking the doors, controlling the traffic, making sure everybody else can get away clean. Then Searight enters with drums that are technically exact and physically loose in all the right places. He does not merely keep time; he makes time sweat.

And Maggiora? He’s the the kind of tactical driver that know’s when to downshift, pop the clutch (against such mighty horsepower)…and floor it, without getting flattened. His voice handles it with soul, body and enough lived-in grit to keep the performance from becoming a résumé recital.

That distinction matters. “Bring It On Back” could have collapsed under the weight of its personnel list, each player taking a turn to wave a credential at the listener. Instead, everybody feeds the same machine. Guitar, keys, bass and drums keep handing momentum forward until Maggiora can ride the groove rather than wrestle it.

What happens when elite players stop posing for the laboratory photo and start contaminating one another’s work? You get a track this tight, this warm and this difficult to sit still through.

Repeated exposure is recommended. Side effects may include: involuntary shoulder movement and sudden distrust of lesser rhythm sections.