Published on Feb 13, 1998
How does an artist or group follow up an album that has been
universally declared a masterpiece?
Queensryche had this exact dilemma in 1990. Their previous
release,
Operation: Mindcrime, sent the band into superstar status,
with radio and television quickly discovering this
previously-ignored group. So when it came time for them to record
their next album, they had two choices: try to re-create their last
album, or try a different road and see what happens.
The final result was
Empire, an album which was almost as strong as
Operation: Mindcrime, but thankfully didn’t follow in the
concept album format.
Perhaps best known now for its ballad “Silent Lucidity,” Geoff
Tate and crew eschewed the concept album to make a collection of
carefully crafted rock songs. Kicking off with “Best I Can,” the
groove that was created on
Operation: Mindcrime was continued with a solid rock number
(though the keyboards felt a little too heavy here).
But then the similarities disappear. “The Thin Line” and “Jet
City Woman” both have a rather funky backbeat provided by bassist
Eddie Jackson and drummer Scott Rockenfield; the guitar duo of
Chris DeGarmo (who just recently left the band) and Michael Wilton
put their six-strings through a solid workout without entering the
“I am a guitar God, watch me show off” mode. Also worthy of note
are the vocal harmonies, always an intregal part of Queensryche’s
sound.
While “Silent Lucidity” is a pretty song, I have to admit I’m
amazed that this song became one of 1990’s omnipresent radio hits.
It’s a tad overdramatic, and isn’t the best song on the album.
Songs like “Another Rainy Night (Without You),” “Hand On Heart” or
“Resistance” could all have been big hits (and EMI did release
“Another Rainy Night (Without You)” as a single), but for some
reason, the kitsch factor won out.
The only times where
Empire does weaken are on the longer numbers, when less
easily could have been more. “Della Brown,” arguably the weakest
track on the album, could have easily had about three minutes
chopped off of it, while “Anybody Listening?” is a rather
aclimactic ending to the album. Some people might also not like the
preachiness of some song bridges (such as on the title track), but
I didn’t think they were terribly over the edge.
If
Empire did anything for the band, it gave their fans the
impetus to hang the catch-phrase “progressive rock band” around the
band’s necks – remember that prior to
Operation: Mindcrime Queensryche was pretty much just a
heavy metal band. But I don’t think that they were really
progressive rock at this time; if anything, they had become
album-oriented rock… and this isn’t necessarily bad. (Also
remember that 1990 was the peak of acceptance of hard rock and
heavy metal on the radio – so the time was just right for
Queensryche to step out in a big way.)
In one sense, though,
Empire proved to be Queensryche’s downfall. Their last two
studio albums have both been held up to
Empire (much like
Empire was fated to be held up to
Operation: Mindcrime), and have disappointed many people.
Some cynics might take this as a sign that Queensryche’s success
was a fluke, and they were destined to be flashes in the pan.
But in the long run, this has proven to be unfair to Queensryche
– and to their fans as well. Inasmuch as I was disappointed by
Promised Land, we can only imagine what we would have been
screaming had Tate and company chosen to try and redo
Empire again. The fact that they tried to distance
themselves from their successes is quite admirable.
Empire is another album that is a “must-own” in anyone’s
collection – and if you can get through the occasional dramatic
noodlings, you’ll consider this yet another masterpiece from
Queensryche.