Steve Winwood gets lost in 'Junction 7', Producer buries vocals under slick production. The sound of the moment in R&B pop slick production is the sparse, acoustic, baring-your-heart approach best typified by Babyface and his disciples. So who does veteran blue-eyed soul boy Steve Winwood join forces with on his comeback CD? None other than Narada Michael Walden, the producer who put the bomb in bombast. Walden, who is nothing if not excessive, seems to be locked in some sort of scary '80s time warp. You know, back when overblown, super-shiny, bouncy, overwrought studio wizardry was, if not hip, at least sonically palatable. And Walden goes mental on "Junction 7." Guitars gurgle like out-of-control percolators, or scream like overworked jet engines; sparkly synths cascade like leaky faucets; and if there's one backup singer, there are 15. Even when Walden holds back, he seems to be unable to allow Winwood to take control of his own material. Of course Winwood, who's no fool, has to shoulder some of the blame. After all, he hired Walden. And to be totally fair, a few of the songs on "Junction 7" are cliched, at best. "Spy In The House Of Love" is all good-natured funk lite, with no core ... and that title! No Anais Nin references ... ever! Then there's some track about an angel of mercy ... oh, please. That's a brilliant new lyrical concept, Steve! The problem is that, deep in my heart, I keep thinking Winwood, who still owns one of the most honest voices in pop, will pull a "Higher Love," or "Back In The High Life Again," or "Dear Mr. Fantasy" (OK, that's a serious dream) outta his hip pocket. Maybe his race is run. Maybe hooking up with Mr. 78-Track was the smartest move. But it's a damn shame that Winwood spends much of "Junction 7" fighting to be heard. Literally. -- Amy Linden