Queensryche

(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)

Queensryche, formed in Seattle in 1981, debuted in 1983 with an EP (for 206 Records) containing four revolutionary tracks: the dark, booming tones of Queen Of The Reich draw on the post-hardrock tradition of Blue Oyster Cult but are scented with “progressive” aromas; in the frantic gallop of Nightrider, their violent and nocturnal instincts are unleashed; and their atmospheric sound reaches sublimity in the majestic harmony of The Lady Wore Black, wrapped in coils of metaphysical anguish.

The dark symbolism of the lyrics immediately set Queensryche apart from the trends of the time. Chris Degarmo, guitarist and principal composer, emphasizes dynamic, highly dramatic structures that are never sensationalist. Degarmo’s riffs, in fact, resemble the spacey synth solos of techno-rock more than the “macho” flurries of heavy metal. And the two-guitar harmonies (with Michael Wilton on second guitar) are anything but the fiery duels typical of the genre. Geoff Tate, a singer with a high register and elastic phrasing, screams with the required intensity but also with the despair of an outcast.

The power of that debut is channeled into the nervous, futuristic modes of Rush on their first album, The Warning (EMI, 1984). Wilton comes to the fore, imposing a more solemn pace, while orchestral arrangements triumph. Thus emerge the title track and Take Hold Of The Flame, the two manifestos of the new direction, while Degarmo contributes En Force, another hard rock piece immersed in almost liturgical atmospheres, and the sparkling rock and roll of Deliverance recalls their origins. But the band’s future is glimpsed in the moments of greatest tension (NM 156 and Before The Storm) and in the symphonic scores of the closing Roads To Madness, which temper aggressive instincts and drown them in apocalyptic music.

It is therefore unsurprising that the group arrived at the icy sound of Rage For Order, whose Walk In The Shadows overflows with production tricks but rarely manages to truly engage. The ritualistic drive of Gonna Get Close To You stands out above all else (though it is not actually written by them). The album closes with a subdued ballad, I Will Remember, as had become customary for them.

Along that trajectory, in 1988 they released a far more ambitious—and unsurpassed—masterpiece, Operation: Mindcrime, a concept album telling the story of Mary, a prostitute; Doctor X, the instigator of a subversive movement; and Nikki, a teenager under Doctor X’s influence and in love with Mary (who will leave him, become a nun, and be killed by the insane Doctor X). From the spectacular opening of Anarchy-X and the epic slogan of Revolution Calling, it is clear that the band had mastered the tools at their disposal and put them to the service of a cause far nobler than AOR.

What makes the work compelling is the driving pace of its sequences, flowing seamlessly from the title track (syncopated and roaring in Free-style) to Speak, from Spreading The Disease to the supersonic The Needle Lies. Yet the truly memorable moments are the more funereal and operatic passages, like Suite Sister Mary and Eyes Of A Stranger, titanic meditations elevated by grand melodies. Thanks to the combination of both aspects, the album became a bestseller.

However, the excellent production quality began to undermine the music’s effectiveness, which sounded increasingly artificial and monotonous on the 1990 double album Empire, even turning Tate’s crooning into self-parody. This sort of “je accuse” against an “Orwellian” society, a return to reality after the high-tech journey of Operation: Mindcrime, is actually fueled by chart-friendly pop, as in the martial and pompous title track and the melodramatic power ballad Jet City Woman, both of which became hit singles. Aside from the anguished Best I Can, in the vein of Queen and arranged in a classical style, with its epic chorus supported by a powerful hard rock riff, the saccharine songs on this album—including the delicate meditation Silent Lucidity and the philosophical “coda” Anybody Listening—mark the band’s artistic nadir.

Queensryche had by then become a factory of unmistakable, branded songs, not unlike Pink Floyd (with Degarmo in Gilmour’s role).

Their albums are always meticulously crafted, obsessively considered. Having started from the “dark metal” of Judas Priest, Queensryche evolved toward highly crafted, melodic progressive rock, though sometimes lacking in emotion.