Supergroups have long fascinated rock audiences.
The promise of multiple virtuosos, songwriters, and frontmen joining forces naturally stirs excitement. The idea is irresistible – if you combine legendary talent, how could failure be possible? Yet history is littered with projects that, on paper, seemed destined for greatness but fell short of expectations. Some lacked cohesion, others suffered from overblown expectations, and a few simply failed to capture the spark that made the members’ original bands so beloved.
These 'less-than-the-sum-of-their-parts' supergroups illustrate a simple truth: individual brilliance does not automatically translate into collective magic. While some of these bands delivered fleeting hits or cult followings, they rarely matched the creative heights, innovation, or cultural impact of their progenitors. From virtuoso guitar duos producing polished but uninspired albums to legendary rhythm sections backing competent but underwhelming rock singers, each attempt reminds fans that chemistry, vision, and songwriting are as essential as star power.
The following ten examples highlight supergroups whose pedigrees promised epic results but ultimately delivered more modest outcomes.
1. The Firm (1984–86)
After Led Zeppelin’s demise, Jimmy Page teamed with Paul Rodgers of Bad Company to form The Firm. The premise seemed irresistible: Zeppelin’s riffs combined with Rodgers’ soulful vocals. Yet their two albums, The Firm (1985) and Mean Business (1986), were met with mixed reactions. While polished and professional, the music often lacked the raw, electrifying energy that had made Led Zeppelin legendary.
Rodgers delivered strong vocal performances, but the songwriting rarely matched the power of his previous work or Page’s compositional genius. Hits like 'Radioactive' achieved moderate success, but overall, the group failed to ignite long-term interest. The Firm stands as an example of high expectations tempered by cautious arrangements: competent, radio-ready rock from legends, yet ultimately lacking the incendiary spark that fans craved.
2. Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe (1989)
Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe (ABWH) formed in 1989, reuniting several classic members of prog rock behemoths Yes without including the full lineup. Critically praised for returning to intricate progressive rock roots, the group nevertheless had a limited commercial impact.
Their self-titled album displayed virtuosic musicianship and evocative arrangements reminiscent of Yes’s 1970s golden era, yet the absence of the full ensemble, particularly Chris Squire’s bass foundation, limited cohesion. Songs like 'Brother of Mine' showcased impressive interplay, but the album never achieved the widespread recognition of Yes classics such as Close to the Edge or Fragile.
ABWH highlights a recurring supergroup theme: even seasoned artists with historical credibility can struggle to reach the same cultural resonance without the full chemistry of their original bands. It stands as a rewarding listen for prog enthusiasts but a minor footnote commercially.
3. Hagar Schon Aronson Shrieve (1983-84)
HSAS – named for Sammy Hagar (ex-Montrose), Neal Schon (Journey), Kenny Aaronson (Foghat), and Michael Shrieve (Santana) – was billed as a hard rock powerhouse, but their 1984 release Through the Fire underwhelmed critics and fans alike. The album showcased technical proficiency, yet songwriting felt inconsistent and arrangements often predictable.
Hagar’s dynamic vocals and Schon’s agile guitar work were evident, but they couldn’t compensate for material that lacked memorable hooks or compelling chemistry. Compared to Hagar’s solo career and Schon’s work with Journey, HSAS never captured the imagination. The project dissolved quickly, leaving only a brief, curious record in rock history: a supergroup with promise, constrained by uninspired execution and the challenge of living up to members’ individual reputations. Hagar joined Van Halen the following year...
4. Velvet Revolver (2002–08)
Velvet Revolver emerged in the early 2000s with Guns N’ Roses alumni Slash, Duff McKagan, and Matt Sorum joined by Stone Temple Pilots’ Scott Weiland. Fans expected a revitalized hard rock juggernaut, but the resulting albums –Contraband (2004) and Libertad (2007) – though competent, fell short of the creative heights anticipated.
Slash’s signature riffs remained electrifying, McKagan’s bass was taut, and Sorum’s drumming authoritative, yet Weiland’s sometimes erratic vocals and inconsistent songwriting prevented cohesion. Hits like 'Slither' and 'Fall to Pieces' garnered airplay, but the albums lacked sustained energy and originality. Critics noted that the band often leaned too heavily on nostalgia rather than forging a new identity, producing a sound reminiscent of past glories without offering innovation.
Velvet Revolver illustrates a common supergroup trap: even immense individual talent cannot guarantee a fresh collective spark, especially when expectations are tied to legendary predecessors. Despite skill and occasional flashes of brilliance, the band ultimately remains a footnote between the legacies of its members’ prior successes.
5. GTR (1985)
GTR remains a cautionary tale of how two of progressive rock’s most celebrated guitarists – Steve Hackett (Genesis) and Steve Howe (Yes) – could join forces and produce a record that, while competent, lacked excitement. Their self-titled 1985 album leaned toward a polished, radio-friendly sound, trading adventurous, intricate compositions for accessible hooks and synth textures. Critics often described the music as competent but safe, missing the idiosyncratic creativity that made each guitarist’s earlier work so remarkable.
The one minor hit, 'When the Heart Rules the Mind', showcased the duo's immense melodic skills but hinted at what the project could have been, rather than what it delivered. Despite the virtuosic potential, GTR’s sound felt sanitized, and the project disbanded quickly, leaving fans longing for the unpredictable interplay of Hackett and Howe’s prog rock legacies. It stands as an intriguing 'what if' in 1980s rock history.
6. Asia (1982)
Asia arrived in 1982 with a lineup that read like prog rock royalty: John Wetton of King Crimson, Steve Howe (again) of Yes, Carl Palmer of Emerson, Lake & Palmer, and Geoff Downes of Yes and the Buggles. Expectations were astronomical.
Yet, despite some commercial success, critics were quick to note that Asia’s debut felt formulaic. Their music favoured radio-friendly choruses, polished production, and concise arrangements over the intricate instrumental interplay fans had anticipated. While 'Heat of the Moment' became a hit, much of the album suffered from predictability, trading experimentation for broad appeal.
The contrast with the members’ original bands – whose work had pushed progressive rock boundaries – was stark. Asia’s slick sound delivered brief gratification but lacked the adventurous spirit that justified the combined talent on paper. In retrospect, the project exemplifies the pitfalls of supergroup expectations: star-studded lineups do not guarantee innovation or lasting influence.
7. Emerson, Lake & Powell (1986)
In 1986, Emerson, Lake & Powell reunited the classic ELP formula, with Cozy Powell replacing original drummer Carl Palmer. While the lineup had immense technical skill, the project failed to capture the explosive chemistry of Emerson, Lake & Palmer. 'Touch and Go' and 'The Score' demonstrated virtuosity, but overall compositions felt fragmented, lacking the cohesive ambition and dynamic interplay of ELP’s 1970s masterpieces.
The band’s brief tenure and limited touring reinforced a sense of impermanence. Emerson, Lake & Powell exemplifies a supergroup constrained by circumstance: a technically impressive collaboration that never achieved the drama, grandeur, or legendary status of the original trio, leaving listeners with a curious but ultimately minor entry in progressive rock history.
8. Blind Faith (1969)
Blind Faith was perhaps rock’s first major 'supergroup' experiment, uniting Cream's Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker with Steve Winwood of Traffic and Family's Ric Grech. The anticipation surrounding their 1969 debut was enormous: fans expected an epochal blend of blues, rock, and soul. Yet the resulting album, though intriguing, disappointed many.
With only one LP released, the group’s music oscillated between accomplished yet restrained blues-rock and occasionally indulgent jams. Critics argued that the hype overshadowed musical cohesion – the virtuosity of the members did not consistently translate into compelling songs. 'Can’t Find My Way Home' remains a beautiful, enduring track, but much of the record feels like potential unrealized.
Beyond the music itself, internal tensions and conflicting expectations contributed to a brief lifespan; the group dissolved almost immediately after touring. Blind Faith endures as a legendary footnote: a glimpse of brilliance tempered by the reality that even elite musicians can struggle to coalesce into a transformative whole.
9. The Power Station (1985)
The Power Station, a side project of Duran Duran members John and Andy Taylor with Robert Palmer and Tony Thompson, delivered a sleek, dance-rock hybrid in 1985. While tracks like 'Some Like It Hot' were catchy and the group enjoyed brief commercial success, the project ultimately felt like a novelty. Palmer’s distinctive vocals and Thompson’s powerful drumming elevated the material, yet songwriting lacked depth, and the album’s fusion of pop, funk, and rock sometimes felt disjointed.
Critics appreciated the musicianship but noted that the band’s personality was overshadowed by Duran Duran’s existing fame. The Power Station remains a fun, era-specific experiment but is remembered more as a curiosity than a lasting supergroup triumph.
And... one we're on the fence about
Bad Company (1973)
Bad Company formed in 1973 with members of Free and Mott the Hoople, offering fans a blend of blues-rock grit and melodic hooks. While commercially successful – songs like 'Feel Like Makin’ Love' and 'Can’t Get Enough' became staples – the band’s critical reception highlighted a lack of adventurousness. Compared to Free’s raw intensity or the glam-fueled sophistication of Mott the Hoople, Bad Company’s songwriting felt formulaic and restrained.
Rodgers’ vocals and Ralphs’ guitar were impeccable, but the band rarely pushed boundaries or displayed the innovative edge of their previous groups. Despite charting hits and enduring popularity in classic rock circles, Bad Company exemplifies a supergroup whose commercial appeal surpassed its artistic daring. They delivered solid rock professionalism, but in terms of creative impact, they were, paradoxically, less than the sum of their parts.
Pictured top: Asia recording session their second album Alpha at Le Studio in Quebec, Canada, April 1983. L-R: Geoff Downes, Carl Palmer, John Wetton, Steve Howe.
All pics: Getty Images
