With the utterly dismal and critically hammered Music Band trilogy thankfully behind it, War ground to a halt in the wake of the death of former saxophonist Charles Miller. After a time out of the spotlight, and shrugging off the shadows, a rejuvenated War reappeared on RCA in 1982 sporting bright '80s-hued bandannas. Learning from (recent) past failings and leaving them behind, Outlaw saw the band taking tentative steps back toward its roots across a solid if at times slightly flat set. Both the punchy, funky opener, "You Got the Power," and the older-styled title track propelled the band back into the Top 20, while leaving plenty of room for the reggae-rhythmed "Just Because" and the outstanding "Baby, It's Cold Outside" to muscle in. But where War proved that it was back on track was across the muscular medley "The Jungle," which combined classic funk across bass and horns with politicized patter and surprisingly placed vocal harmonies. Outlaw, then, became a triumphant trumpet, a heralding battle cry -- War was returning to form. It was a strong comeback that not only brought the band back to its old fans, but also sowed the seeds for the themes and grooves that would be so prevalent on the following year's Life (Is So Strange) LP. ~ Amy Hanson, All Music Guide
When War reunited in 1994 and recorded Peace Sign--its first album since 1983's Life (Is So Strange), the band's sound hadn't changed very much. Instead of going high-tech and trying to appeal to urban contemporary tastes, the influential Angelenos continued to offer the type of slow and relaxed yet gritty soul and funk they'd been playing 20 years earlier. The results is a decent album that's hardly in a class with All Day Music, The World Is a Ghetto or Why Can't We Be Friends, but has its moments. War had long commanded an intensely devoted following in the Mexican-American community, and it's hard to miss the Latin influence on such enjoyable numbers as "Wild Rodriguez" (a fun ode to the "low rider" or "vato loco" culture) and "East L.A." The CD's strongest offering, however, is "Homeless Hero," a poignant and rightly angry reflection on homeless Vietnam veterans. But despite its strong points, Peace Sign is an album that only War's more devoted followers should invest in -- more casual listeners would be much better off with a collection of the band's '70s recordings. ~ Alex Henderson, All Music Guide
War kept battling in the mid-'80s, switching labels and trying different producers in an attempt to maintain their viability. This was the second of two albums they recorded for RCA, and they were unable to sustain the comeback begun with the previous album. The title track was a moderate success, but by now they sounded weary and uninspired. The same was true for their production, arrangements, and compositions, as well as past strengths like group interplay, musical support, and solos. ~ Ron Wynn, All Music Guide
Adding vocalist Alice Tweed Smith to their lineup, and jumping ship to the MCA label, were occasions that only furthered War's slide into a decisive end-of-decade malaise as they followed their hit label debut, Galaxy, with The Music Band in spring 1979. The lackluster start to a series of three loosely connected albums, The Music Band revealed a late-decade War not as the fierce funkers they once were, but as the purveyors of a lite jazzy disco that occasionally scraped the bottom of a now well-worn barrel in a fruitless search for some classic rhythms. Jumping straight into the fray with the title track, War deliver a mid-tempo tribute to their fans that would have been more at home on the stage of some rock opera than on what one hoped would be a funk album. This experience is repeated at the end, too, as the band drops the curtain with the oddly reggae-inflected "All Around the World." However, there is some redemption, as War finally remember what they do best across the jazzy jam of "Millionaire" and the disco fusion of "Good Good Feelin'." But those are the high points in what is, overall, a disappointing set and a horrific precursor to two more volumes of self-gratifying concept rock, as War shifted gears and tried to figure out where their politicized funk belonged in an age without substance. ~ Amy Hanson, All Music Guide
The four Music Band albums covered a painful period for War fans. They seemed past their prime and had resorted to issuing half-hearted remakes of old hits, while trying to find a new way to restate their classic funk/soul/Afro-Latin formula. This second in the series contained a sad remake of "The World Is A Ghetto," while only "Don't Take It Away" was reminiscent of their glorious legacy. ~ Ron Wynn, All Music Guide
War got decent mileage from the soundtrack for this B-movie, which premiered near the end of the first blaxploitation era. They ended with two R&B hits, and while they were perturbed that United Artists, the label they had left, reaped the benefits, it at least kept them active and in the R&B hunt. ~ Ron Wynn, All Music Guide
War had been on cruise control for over two years due to internal and record company troubles when they resurfaced in the late '70s on MCA. This album was a pleasant surprise, even though it had more disco production than their funk fans wanted. But they got a hit out of the title track, and the better tracks retained the old War grit and eclectic fire. ~ Ron Wynn, All Music Guide
Cut from the same cloth as the band's 1973 Deliver the Word LP, War's 1975 Why Can't We Be Friends? is a masterpiece in its scope and breadth. And, emerging as the last work the band would do for its longtime label, United Artists, it became a fitting swansong, powering up the charts and giving War its fourth and final number one hit. In recent years, the album has been overshadowed by the monstrously popular bass-beating and bright brass of its singular hit, "Low Rider." Indeed, the song would become the band's signature theme, as the Latino street-cruiser jam quickly became a live set staple and, much later, was reinvigorated through sampling on songs by the Beastie Boys, Stereo MC's, and Offspring. However, that one track, iconographic as it is, is by no means the only treat onboard Why Can't We Be Friends? There are far more interesting and superb treats roiling in the wake of "Low Rider." The snappy title track, which poses the question of the decade and, oddly, closes the album, is a feel-good thumper. Its bright brass punctuation and rakish vocals are wonderfully combined with an absolutely contagious reggae beat. Then, add the doesn't-get-much-better-than-that medley "Leroy's Latin Lament." Divided into four "songs," the music swings from the smart vocal opening "Lonnie Dreams" to the effervescent Latin jam of "La Fiesta." And, of course, where there's War, there's funk -- this time on the seven-plus minute"Heartbeat." Wrap it all up with the poignant ballad "Lotus Blossom," and the result is pretty much perfection. Why Can't We Be Friends? remains one of War's truly outstanding efforts, and has become an integral part of the funk genre's landscape. It also remains the nightcap of their finest hour. War's ill-timed move to MCA changed the energy and focus of the band forever. ~ Amy Hanson, All Music Guide
Focusing in part on their softer side, War unleashed Deliver the Word in fall 1973. A smooth blend of the band's more progressive jazz-rock fusion, the LP shot to the top of the R&B charts, their second of four number one records in a row. It was a perfect tonic to the mediocre MOR music rampaging its way through the early part of the decade. The opening "H2 Overture" is a restrained jazz jam that gives way to "In Your Eyes," which keeps the progressive momentum going but adds unexpected vocal twists that vary from interesting spoken pleasures to full vocal harmonies -- it's sex on a groove. Both "Southern Part of Texas" and a long-awaited studio recording of "Baby Brother -- now titled "Me and Baby Brother" -- swing the band back to their alter ego cutting-edge funk stomp. "Gypsy Man," meanwhile, is a near-12-minute mantric, tantric opus whose blues riffs are pinned down only by the song's low, unyielding rhythm. It's a memorable slab of pure prog passed through Lee Oskar's stroboscopic brain. An outstanding album split between War's two definitive styles, Deliver the Word ultimately delivers a vibe, a groove, and an intent that are hard to resist. A magical ride with plenty of surprises to keep the listener on his or her toes, this set is a perfect example of the band at their genre-fusing best. ~ Amy Hanson, All Music Guide