The 5 Best Soft Rock Solos Of The '90s

Though the '90s as a decade are typified by two brutally loud, hard-edged musical movements (grunge for the first five years and nu metal for the second), we should never forget there was a whole sonic realm throughout the decade dedicated to languid, gentle sensibilities. After all, this was the decade when the silky-smooth soprano sax stylings of Kenny G were moving millions of units, Seal received a "Kiss From a Rose," and the Pure Moods CD collection emerged as the perfect soundtrack for your way of life. 

So the decade that saw Korn and Tool enter the ranks of the richest metal bands in the world also had more than its fair share of chilled-out majesty. To that end we wanted to celebrate the instrumentalists whose often unsung contributions defined the decade. Whether it's a harmonica legend backing up Sting or a jazz guitar virtuoso laying it down for a film score, these are the solos that gave '90s rock it's dreamy, laid-back answer to all that angst and aggression. 

We already know that "The Day I Fall in Love," the lush power ballad that the late Dolly Parton sang with James Ingram, is one of those duets that proves polar opposites can make great music together, even if it is for the soundtrack to a film about the love life of a St. Bernard. But that majestic aura is underscored by the ferocious lead guitar work of Michael Thompson. A top-shelf session player whose credits include work with Céline Dion, Michael Jackson, and Mariah Carey, Thompson's leads are the unexpected dessert in an already satisfying sonic meal.

After a soaring second chorus closed out by a gentle refrain from Dolly, Thompson asserts himself. He joins the bass guitar in a unison slide down the fretboard, then emphatically ascends up the orchestra's turnaround phrase as if to inform each section of the backing band that he has assumed control. But after taking command, he reveals himself to be a fair and balanced leader. There's an impassioned instrumental delivery of the vocal line with an impeccably slick guitar tone accentuated only by descending intervals at the end of each phrase. It's scorching but unobtrusive, embellished only enough to give us a blissful extension of the main melody and the romantic longing it entails. 

"Shape of My Heart," a feature track on Sting's 1993 album "Ten Summoner's Tales," closes out director Luc Besson's 1994 action drama "Léon: The Professional" with the kind of delicate, soulful yearning in the midst of deep emotional turmoil that the Police frontman handles so well. It's a tender, haunted, and deeply contemplative dialogue primarily between vocal and classical guitar. 

While that alone would be enough to accentuate the film's themes of love, loss, and human connection in a criminal underworld that has no time for such things, there is a solo for chromatic harmonica that seems to carry on the tender melody as if admitting that words alone cannot encompass such profound feelings. Played by Larry Adler,  the solo enters underneath Sting's chorus like a gentle, reassuring hand on his beleaguered shoulder. In keeping with that theme of carrying on where words fail, it seems to be saying, "I'll take it from here." From there, Adler carries the solo section with a series of gentle, billowing passages that showcase his command of the instrument's vibrato and human-sounding vocalizations. By the time Sting returns, he sounds as if his thoughtful reflections have been guided to a new, more comfortable place.

Modern jazz guitar virtuoso Pat Metheny may have had some harsh words for Kenny G, but he's more than willing to step into the adult contemporary realm as needed. Case in point, his rendition of "Let Joy and Innocence Prevail," the theme song from the soundtrack to "Toys," filmmaker Barry Levenson's 1992 dramedy about a child-at-heart toy designer fighting to keep his factory from making military drones. While the soundtrack also features an impassioned vocal version courtesy of Grace Jones, Metheny's instrumental version captures the plaintive cry for peace and compassion in the face of the military industrial complex across a diverse instrumental range. 

The piece builds slowly: washes of synthesizer that aren't quite strings or choirs crash dreamily against clean guitar chordal ambiance and a lead that reenforces the melodic content without dominating it. When Metheny finally introduces the main melody almost a minute into the track, it's on a warm, dulcet acoustic guitar with notes that fade across one another with the kind of precision that feels effortless but requires a master of extraordinary skill. The synthesizers join the melody again, this time supporting the carefully building guitar. 

The first chorus hits with acoustic guitar driving home the grandeur, but then man and machine merge when Metheny busts out the guitar synth for the proper solo. Hearing rock phrasing play out on a synthesizer patch that sounds somewhere between a human vocal and vintage Moog keyboard perfectly underscores the film's themes of meek but unconquerable human souls standing strong in the face of technocratic warlords. Metheny's phrases explore variations and embellishments on the melody but never sacrifice the underlying message. By the time he comes back to the chorus, his instrumental lands infinitely harder than the vocal version. 

Sometimes a great solo does more the less noticeable it is. That's absolutely the case with Bill Dillon's lead guitar work on Sarah McLachlan's "Possession," the opening track on 1993's "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy." Opening with an ethereal organ and soon joined by McLachlan's dreamy vocals, the song evokes an aura of a solemn religious ceremony with new age, pagan overtones. 

Dillon's phrasing shines precisely because it honors that delicate balance. He isn't here to interrupt the service, just to accept communion. He brings in all the accouterments of the '90s alternative rock guitar vocabulary: fading-in feedback that stays within the harmonic structure of the song, reverb-drenched blues phrasing, and a generous milking of the delay that would make David Gilmore proud. It never dominates, even when he's given the floor for a proper solo. He just gives McLachlan's seductive hippie whimsy the dark, sexy swagger it needs. 

For our part, we would like to thank Apple Music for including "Possession" on their '90s Soft Rock Essentials playlist. It showed up just in time in the song order to save us from having to write about Carlos Santana's "Smooth," a track so overplayed in the '90s that we blocked it from our collective memories.