Operation: Mindcrime
II should not exist, at least not as an album released under the
Queensryche name. The fact that it is a sequel to the greatest prog metal album
of all time was puzzling enough when it was first released in 2006, but a few more
details that have come to light since the band’s 2012 schism make it even more
frustrating. Despite being another attempt to pander to disgruntled fans after
the failed DeGarmo reunion, Operation:
Mindcrime II is the first collaboration that Geoff Tate and producer/writer
Jason Slater released under the Queensryche name and features a slew of session
musicians instead of actual band members. From what I’ve gathered, longtime guitarist
Michael Wilton and drummer Scott Rockenfield aren’t even on this damn thing!
What makes this revelation painfully ironic is that the
second Mindcrime is the first album
that actually sounds like Queensryche in a decade and might just be their most
metal-oriented release since the first one. Granted the focus on slower tempos
means that “I’m American” and “Signs Say Go” are the closest things that we
really get to old school “The Needle Lies” style speed metal, but whoever is
playing guitar got their tone to closely match the original shine and they even
squeezed in a few actual metal riffs on songs like “One Foot In Hell.” They
even upped the ante by reprising a few musical motifs, working in some
orchestral elements, and having a few special guest vocalists on select tracks.
But in doing this, they seemed to forget that the original Mindcrime succeeded due to incredibly
catchy songs and writing that put each member on equal standing in terms of
showing off their skills. The songwriting on its sequel is rife with sluggish
executions, meandering structures, and faceless instrumentals that merely set
the stage for the vocal performances with very few chances to shine.
Queensryche’s first three releases showed us that this
dynamic isn’t necessarily a bad thing but that idea is immediately thrown out
the window when the listener realizes that the vocals on here sound like shit.
All signs of deterioration that have popped up in the wake of Promised Land finally culminate to this
single performance as Tate delivers his awkwardly constructed lines in a
grating sneer, botches drawn out wails, abandons his lower range for dull
spoken word, and generally makes one wonder how much sooner we would’ve noticed
this if he hadn’t been coasting by on grunge for the last decade. Fortunately,
all is not lost as Pamela Moore gives it her all as the
ghost/hallucination/whatever of Sister Mary and metal master Ronnie James Dio
upstages his former apprentice as Dr. X on the otherwise anticlimactic “The
Chase.”
Speaking of which, it goes without saying that the story is
as directionless as it is implausible. While a story featuring the loveable
Nikki escaping prison and seeking revenge for Mary’s death would be a neat
character study, the story we got falls flat as the brainwashed junkie is
somehow paroled and goes off to die whimpering after an anticlimactic victory.
It doesn’t help that going into his thought process is much more forced than it
was in the original Mindcrime and
that it immediately forgets about the social commentary that made its ancestor
so inspiring. Seriously, this was released in the middle of the War on Terror;
how did they pass up the chance to talk about that?
But with all this bitching to consider, the album’s first
half actually manages to be pretty decent. In addition to “The Hands” being a
legitimately good song and “Hostage” making for a decent bluesy number, other
tracks like “One Foot In Hell” and “Signs Say Go” make for entertaining rockers
once you get past Tate’s warbling. I also gotta give props to “Murderer?” for
its excellent opening and wonder how things would’ve worked if it had been the
closer instead of the twenty minutes that follow it. It wouldn’t have exactly
been “Eyes Of A Stranger,” but it would’ve ended things on an intense,
ambiguous note as opposed to a dull one.
In the end, Operation:
Mindcrime II is one of those albums that I should hate on pure principle
but isn’t totally devoid of value. It attempts to justify its existence by
means of a decent start, passionate guest performances, and neat callbacks but
ultimately falters due to the band’s disassociations as well as a declining creator’s
misunderstanding of his own creation. Perhaps it could’ve worked if it had been
released at a more favorable time or if the band members actually gave a damn,
but this looks to be another case of what could’ve been. At least Ian Anderson
had the good sense to release Thick As A
Brick II under his own name…
Current Highlights:
“I’m American”
“One Foot In Hell”
“Hostage”
“The Hands”
“Signs Say Go”
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