Cornerstone (1979)

1.Lights
2.Why Me
3.Babe
4.Never Say Never
5.Boat on the River
6.Borrowed Time
7.First Time
8.Eddie
9.Love in the Midnight
 
Of all the detours Styx ever took, none was more radical than this. One must recall the climate of the late 1970s—progressive rock was fast becoming passé. The pomp and ceremony of Yes and ELP had grown tiresome, while giants like The Who and Led Zeppelin were facing down personal and professional disaster. A new order was taking shape, fronted not by long-haired guitar heroes, but by piano men and disco queens. Enter Dennis DeYoung, who, sensing the winds of change, attempted to refashion the band into something a bit more contemporary. He succeeded—and fractured the band in the process.
This album, though not quite matching the sales of its immediate predecessors, marked a pivotal moment. It ushered Styx into the early 1980s as bona fide pop royalty. One can make the reasonable case that, had they not gone this route, they might have faded into obscurity with little more than a couple of oldies to their name. But popularity, as ever, came at a price. The new sound—softer, sleeker, and radio-ready—alienated not only a portion of their fanbase but parts of the band itself. It would later emerge that internal strife nearly tore them apart before the tour supporting this album was over.
Musically, the album is a mixed affair. The band seems cautious, dipping their toes into soft-rock waters rather than diving headfirst. Most of the tracks are drenched in electric pianos and strummed acoustics. It’s pleasant, if occasionally tedious. Attempts to "rock" feel strained. James Young’s Eddie comes across as both heavy-handed and uninspired, while Borrowed Time fares better, but could have used the sonic bite of earlier albums to really land.
Still, the softer moments provide more intrigue. The biggest hit of their career, Babe, is pure balladry, shameless in its sentiment and entirely effective in its execution. Critics scoffed, but let's not be hypocrites—every arena band had their lighter-waving showstopper, and Styx delivered theirs with aplomb. The opener, Lights, is similarly melodic and restrained, yet retains a compositional strength that rewards repeated listens. It was co-written by DeYoung and Shaw—DeYoung on music, Shaw on lyrics—and, tellingly, the same pair flipped roles for Borrowed Time. Their artistic chemistry was real, even as their personalities clashed harder than ever. Shaw reportedly threatened to walk if DeYoung’s syrupy First Time was released as a single. It wasn’t, but the rift remained.
Ironically, it’s Shaw who delivers some of the album’s finest soft material. The closer, Love in the Midnight, is musically delicate but thematically raw—a rare glimpse of emotional vulnerability behind the rock star curtain. Boat on the River is even better, a mandolin-laced unplugged gem recorded long before “unplugged” became fashionable. It went largely unnoticed in the States but found wide success in Europe, and remains one of the band’s best non-hits. Less successful is Shaw’s Never Say Never, which doesn’t quite connect, though it's far from disgraceful.
In the end, this was a record born of transition. It alienated some, gained many more, and set Styx on a new—and far more mainstream—trajectory. The tension reached its peak when DeYoung was briefly ousted after the tour, only to return once it became painfully clear: there was no Styx without him. Fortunately, the story didn’t end here. There was still magic to come.
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