Joachim Kühn - 1978 - Sunshower

Joachim Kühn

1978

Sunshower

01. Orange Drive 3:31

02. O.D. 5:02

03. Shoreline 4:01

04. You're Still On My Mind 4:17

05. Midnight Dancer 4:28

06. Short Film For Nicky 4:13

07. Sunshower 4:12

08. Preview 6:28

Bass – Tony Newton

Drums – Glenn Symmonds

Electric Guitar, Synthesizer [Roland] – Ray Gomez

Guitar – Jan Akkerman

Keyboards – Joachim Kühn

Recorded Feb./March 1978 at Kendun Recorders, Elektra Studios, Warner Bros. Studios and Soundpush Studios. Mixed March/April 1978 at Soundpush Studios.

Joachim Kühn’s 1978 Atlantic release (sometimes credited to the Joachim Kühn Band featuring Jan Akkerman & Ray Gomez), is a slick, high-octane slice of late-’70s jazz-rock fusion that sounds exactly like what happens when a classically trained German virtuoso decides to chase the California sun and plug his keyboards into the wall socket alongside two of the era’s flashiest guitar slingers. Clocking in at a lean 36 minutes, it’s energetic, occasionally over-the-top, and unapologetically of its time—like a European classical refugee crashing a Hollywood fusion party and somehow making it swing.

Born in Leipzig in 1944, Joachim Kühn was a genuine child prodigy who debuted as a concert pianist and studied classical composition before his older brother, clarinetist Rolf Kühn, pulled him headfirst into jazz. By the mid-1960s, he was already pioneering free jazz in East Germany, defecting to the West in 1966, and quickly becoming a fixture in the European avant-garde scene. He collaborated with heavyweights like Don Cherry, Jean-Luc Ponty, and later Ornette Coleman, while dabbling in electronic keyboards with Pierre Courbois’ Association P.C. Influences included Bach (a lifelong foundation), free improvisation, post-bop, and the exploding fusion wave of the 1970s. By the mid-’70s, Kühn had relocated to California, diving into the West Coast scene and recording with the likes of Alphonse Mouzon and Billy Cobham. Sunshower captures him in full fusion mode—ambitious, flashy, and ready for American radio play.

The album landed on Atlantic Records during the label’s aggressive fusion push. Recorded across studios in Hollywood, Burbank, and the Netherlands between February and March 1978, it features a crack quintet: Kühn on piano, electric piano, and alto sax; the legendary Dutch guitarist Jan Akkerman (of Focus fame) bringing his unmistakable tone and fluidity; American guitarist Ray Gomez adding fire and Roland guitar synth textures; Tony Newton (formerly with Santana) on electric and piccolo bass; and drummer Glenn Symmonds holding down the pocket. Vocalist Willie Dee appears on a couple of tracks, adding a soulful layer that some listeners have found… divisive.

The music is pure late-’70s fusion exuberance. Opener “Orange Drive” struts with punchy riffs and sparkling keyboard/guitar interplay, while “O.D.” and “Preview” deliver the high-energy jazz-rock fireworks that fans came for—Akkerman and Gomez trading sizzling lines over Kühn’s driving electric piano. Mid-tempo groovers like “Shoreline” and the title track “Sunshower” offer more atmospheric breathing room with lyrical guitar and buoyant rhythms. “Short Film For Nicky” stands out as a delicate, introspective piano solo that reminds you of Kühn’s classical roots amid the electricity. The vocal tracks add a pop-soul flavor that can feel a bit dated or superfluous depending on your tolerance for 1978 studio gloss, but they never derail the instrumental momentum. It’s fusion that aims for both chops and accessibility—think a European twist on Return to Forever or Santana’s instrumental workouts.

Technically, the playing is sharp and the production (engineered by a team including Jan Schuurman and Rick Heenan) is polished to a high ’70s sheen. Kühn’s keyboards provide harmonic depth and textural sparkle, moving effortlessly between acoustic warmth and electric bite. The twin-guitar attack gives the record real bite and variety—Akkerman’s singing sustain contrasting with Gomez’s more aggressive, synth-enhanced edge—while Newton and Symmonds lock in a fat, danceable pocket. The sound is clear, dynamic, and spacious, with excellent separation that lets every solo breathe, though it occasionally leans into that era’s slightly glossy, compressed aesthetic.

The artwork embodies classic late-’70s Atlantic fusion vibes: bold, colorful photography with a sunny, slightly abstract feel that matches the album’s optimistic title. It’s not particularly groundbreaking or conceptual, but it has that warm, inviting period charm—perfect for an LP sleeve you’d spot in a record bin and think, “This looks like it might groove.”

Upon release, Sunshower earned mixed but generally positive notices in fusion circles. Some critics praised the fiery guitar work and Kühn’s versatility, while others found the vocal experiments and commercial leanings a bit too slick compared to his more avant-garde roots. It didn’t become a massive seller but found an audience among jazz-rock fans. Over time, the album has developed a quiet cult following, especially among admirers of Akkerman’s guest spots and ’70s fusion completists. Reissues on CD (including Wounded Bird) have kept it circulating, and it stands as a fun, energetic detour in Kühn’s long, shape-shifting career—a snapshot of the German pianist happily embracing the electric excesses of California before returning to more acoustic and exploratory paths.

In the end, Sunshower is Joachim Kühn letting his hair down (metaphorically) and proving he could hang with the big-league fusion crowd without losing his European elegance or improvisational spark. It may not be his most profound work, but it’s one of his most entertaining—a bright, breezy burst of late-’70s optimism that still sounds like sunshine after a rainstorm. Crank it up on a sunny afternoon and enjoy the ride.