Savatage - Poets and Madmen (2001)

I must have soaked through at least a half dozen t-shirts in anticipation once the news arrived that Zak Stevens had left the Savatage camp, and that Jon Oliva would be fronting yet another of their studio albums. With the continued success of Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and the general lack of interest in the original band, I had no hopes of ever even hearing from them beyond The Wake of Magellan. Though they weren't officially 'disbanded', I suppose, Oliva has repeated down through the decade that the financial benefits and massive organizational undertaking that is TSO more or less precludes productivity from this old goat, but at least back in 2001 they were gunnin' to give it another try...

Well, Poets and Madmen is what we ended up with, and despite a few gleams of curiosity nestled beneath its solid surface, this isn't much more to write home about than Dead Winter Dead or its direct predecessor. The production is upgraded to a 21st century polish, and it's always great to hear Jon Oliva's maddening and monstrous inflection return to the metal sphere, but this serves as little more than a setup for his later albums through Jon Oliva's Pain, which has become the spiritual successor to Savatage in all things non-TSO. Chris Caffery's rhythm guitars on this are bludgeoning, rich and modern, but most of the actual riff structures are pretty weak and uninspired, suitable only as a bed for the orchestration and vocals. Poets and Madmen is not a full 180 back towards the epic metal of Hall of the Mountain King, because it still incorporates a lot of progressive metal elements, like the synthesizers slicing through "There in the Silence" or the sheer breadth of the vocal arrangements, which are comparable to Dead Winter Dead or TSO. Unfortunately, despite the array of weaponry being brought to the table, it falls incredibly flat.

I think ultimately it comes down to the guitars here. Where they once soared with eagles in the 80s, here they feel nearly as pasteurized and uninteresting as Edge of Thorns. The leads, many of which are performed by Caffery himself (Al Pitrelli had largely departed for Megadeth at this point), seem too tidy, lacking that wild animal magnitude Criss would explode into during the first decade of the band. Few of these songs are very exciting, they all just sort of fill out their skeletal framework with the minimal amount of enthusiasm. While it's cool to hear Jon again, his vocals naturally do not have that precise level of volatility that once made them such a distinct and beautiful component to the Savatage sound. I almost felt like the ballads on this record, like "Back to a Reason", provided its best moments, if only because the heavier material is so disturbingly mediocre. It's not an awful attempt to bridge the years between 1993 and 2001, but I feel like musically its just as quickly forgotten as half the albums that Zak Stevens fronted, and certainly it lacks the grandiose ambition of The Wake of Magellan, which was about all that album had going for it.

Even the concept here isn't so compelling, a fiction vaguely built up around a South African photojournalist named Kevin Carter. From the cover, I was hoping it would be about Poe...but Savatage had outsmarted me once again. Too bad they couldn't outsmart the songwriting process for this. Four years, and not much to show for it other than more musical chairs. If this was to be the 'new Savatage', then I'd say stick to the Christmas carols, stockings and candy canes.

Verdict: Indifference [5.5/10]

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - The Wake of Magellan (1997)

If The Wake of Magellan sounds like you've heard it before, that's because you probably have. With the possible exception of seeming more guitar-driven than the prior Savatage album, Dead Winter Dead, it sets sail on a comparable conceptual voyage, with the same, bold production values and level of refined orchestration. Contrary to how it reads (and looks) on the cover, this isn't exactly an album about the Portuguese explorer, but a series of current events involving Romanian castaways, an Irish heroine, and an elderly Spaniard who decides to commit suicide at sea, but is thwarted at the last moment when he has to instead choose to save another. Seems convoluted, I'll admit, but it's handled intricately, and no one will be accusing Savatage of not having thought this through.

Where Dead Winter Dead integrated a lot of festive, wintry classical pieces into the original material, this album actively pursues a different aesthetic. The acoustics of "Morning Sun" reflect on an airy, bright European port city, and the piano melodies throughout seem more distinctly 'warm' than they were up in Sarajevo. The guitar tone is comparable, but perhaps even louder than it was, which make sense, since they seem to push the album forward a lot more often. There is also some degree of experimentation with vocal arrangements, especially in weirder numbers like "Complaint in the System" or "Blackjack Guillotine". But, apart from these nuances, the impact of the music is eerily similar to Dead Winter Dead, only I'm afraid it's just not as catchy. I like the ramping up of the potency to the rhythm guitars, but so many of the riffs here are throwaways, cheap and generic groove patterns as in "Another Way" or the boring, climactic chords in the key-laden "Underture". There are a lot of softer moments through the album, like everything else the band did from 1991 on, but I found the balladry to be sadly lacking in quality, and the rock opera elements still inferior to Gutter Ballet.

On top of that, I still don't like Zak Stevens. Like Dead Winter Dead, he's not a huge irritant this time around, but I can't help but feel that every song on this effort would sound superior with the diction of someone fresh, or Jon Oliva himself (who again only sings a few times). I can just envision that rabid rasp of his slicing through the brightness of some of the riffs, where Stevens still comes off too much like someone who is trying and not succeeding. That said, really the worst aspect of The Wake of Magellan is that I find it almost impossible to remember any of the tunes. Few are outright bad or embarrassing, but none of them achieve that memorable climax so common to Hall of the Mountain King or Gutter Ballet. The balance of the metal instruments and orchestration is incredibly flush, like the band were truly on the verge of grandeur had they pursued this space for one more full-length, but despite the cohesive nature I feel, and the truly interesting subject matter of the story, this one rarely leaves port for my listening rotation. Big, bold, and beautifully average.

Verdict: Indifference [5.25/10] (never seen upon a face)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Dead Winter Dead (1995)

Dead Winter Dead is the first (and better) of two historical concept albums the veteran Savatage would compose to fill out the 90s, and it's at the very least a pretty ambitious effort which sees a continued shift in the landscape of the group's membership. After Alex Skolnick's short one-off performing the leads for Handful of Rain, he is replaced with another guitar god, Al Pitrelli. Longtime drummer Steve 'Doc' Wacholz had also departed the band, and his spot was filled by Jeff Plate. Most importantly, Jon Oliva decided to return to the microphone for a few songs, sharing duties with Zak Stevens, and this immediately makes the record a more tolerable listen for me.

Hell, even Stevens seems to blend in more with this production, not that his inflection has changed, but the moodier and sultrier nature of the compositions seems to better fit him during solemn sequences like the intro to "Starlight" or the secondary, narrative intro, "Sarajevo". The album itself is essentially a Romeo & Juliet style tale being spun through the Bosnian War conflict, far more interesting than Streets: A Rock Opera in concept, and another of the reasons I actually found this superior to the two albums leading up to it. This is far more of a pure progressive metal record, with moments of sheer heaviness amidst the gravitas of somber emotions, not to mention the incorporation of classical medleys in "Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/12", which would prove responsible for the creation of Trans-Siberian Orchestra (who would re-release this very same track), but hearkens back to "Prelude to Madness" on Hall of the Mountain King. They also pay tribute to a few classical composers like Mozart and Beethoven by lifting directly from them. Pay close attention, folks, because while album might not have been an enormous success, it spawned a project that would practically make the band a household name, at long lost...all they had to do was abandon Savatage.

Overall, though, the album seems such a transcendent leap from the creative knuckle dragging of Edge of Thorns or the almost random Handful of Rain, and it's far more effective at expressing its sentimentality than their prior attempt at a pure concept record. Still a lot of Queen influence, also some from The Who. The production beautifully captures the contrast between the harder hitting metal sequences, often no more than a few simple chords per lick, and the arrangement and keyboards of Jon and Bob Kinkel feel like you're staring out over an orchestra pit, drafts of warm tone rising towards you with voluminous confidence. Pitrelli's presence is clearly felt, adding a fusion/jazz element to the lead sequences even more than Skolnick did, and they definitely create a minor spectacle amidst the baser, sweeping bombast of the rhythm section. Though I don't always love Stevens' vocals in them, and the album would have been far superior with just Oliva, or perhaps another front man, tracks like "Starlight" and "This Isn't What We Meant" are admittedly well written. The fact that most of the lyrics are told from a characters' perspective renders them a lot less cheesy than the ballads on the last two discs.

Plate's performance is great, and the rhythm guitars are grafted with plenty of push, so much that there's this clean, live feeling to Dead Winter Dead which feels like Streets on steroids. It's admirable that the band would tackle a fairly recent, relevant event in history without coming off too judgmental or political. The love story doesn't do much for me, but I dig where it's set, and the conflicts created through the setting, a fine twist on Shakespearean tragedy, despite the happier ending. Yuck! I still don't enjoy Zak Stevens, but he was less intrusive on the experience than before, and despite the fact that I STILL feel like I got all the rock opera Savatage I needed with a handful of songs on Gutter Ballet, this seemed to restore some sanity to what in my opinion was an understandably ailing outfit. Sure, I miss the Criss Oliva riffs, the flash and flame of his performance, but you can almost sense his spirit out in the audience, smiling from the V.I.P. box at his survivors' perseverance. Not a great album, but a passable, consistent piece that isn't shy on ambition.

Verdict: Win [6.5/10] (where this all has led)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Handful of Rain (1994)

In all honesty, Handful of Rain would have had to commit identity theft on me, clean out my bank account, post compromising pictures of me all over the internet, run my pets over with a car, punch my mother, and steal my girlfriend for me to have liked it any less than Edge of Thorns. And yet, somehow, miraculously, it manages to commit all these acts of hatred upon me and then some. Depending on which way the wind was blowing on any given day, I'd have a difficult time deciding for myself whether this or Edge of Thorns, was the worst of Savatage's studio outings, but I think for now I'll accept that this was their career nadir; here is nearly no saving grace whatsoever for its miserable hide.

I won't even launch into the 'too soon, bro' argument, because even though Handful of Rain was released less than a year after Criss' car accident, I have the feeling he'd have wanted the band to forge ahead and make what they could out of themselves. Needless to say, one only has to suffer through the 49 minutes of this album to see just how undeveloped and uninspired the music is. Savatage brought over Alek Skolnick, who had recently departed from Testament, which was sort of a strange, unexpected move. Granted, there was the Atlantic Records connection, and if you're going to replace one guitar god, why not use another, but even Alex himself has admitted he always felt a disconnect with the Floridians. Ironically, his spurious leads, written very much in the vein of his alma mater, provide a few of the only interesting moments throughout, because he doesn't seek to emulate his predecessor so much as give of himself. Unfortunately, the rhythm guitar patterns, and the songwriting itself, is so exhaustingly dull that there's no real impetus to pursue them.

Once AGAIN, the overabundance of crappy AOR/prog-rock ballads dilutes the potential of a Savatage record. "Handful of Rain"? "Stare Into the Sun?" "Alone You Breathe"? Parts of three other songs? All shit, with no catchy choruses, just acoustic guitars morphing into bland chord progressions, pianos for dramatic effect, and lots of Zak Stevens attempting to add a fraction more bite to his timbre. Even where the album gets 'heavy', like the boring, hammering sleeze/groove-thrash of "Taunting Cobras", the guy sounds like he's attempting to ape hard rock singers like Sebastian Bach. I will say that Stevens gets a little more comfortable in his role, and I found him less grating overall than on Edge of Thorns, but apart from a few ambitions like his multi-tracked Freddy Mercury countervocal sequences in "Chance", he's just not the singer I want to hear in this band. Then again, I doubt Jon's presence would have made much of a difference over crappy Ozzy meets Black Label Society grooves like "Nothings Going On" or "Taunting Cobras" (which is a waste of a decent song title, if you ask me).

Production here is admittedly a little less sterile and billowy than the previous album, forcing the guitars to come across with more savagery, and I think a better mix of the vocals with the music. I no longer feel like I'm sitting in the studio booth next to some nervous guy trying out for a Broadway rock opera. The skins get hit pretty hard, and I've got no real problem with the rhythm guitar tone or the bass.Skolnick's flighty leads on tunes like "Taunting Cobras" are pretty slick, but without a proper vessel to steer them they just seem like mercenary excess, a hired gun wanting to prove himself after leaving the group which made him a name in the first place. I've read that Jon Oliva actually recorded most of this record himself, which might explain why it feels so piecemeal compared to past works. Ultimately, Handful of Rain suffers from its ill-advised, lamentable compositions more than any other facet, to the point where it's not merely a forgettable Savatage album, but downright bad. They should have let this alone to begin with, or if they were insistent, attempted something more unique to pass the time (a full album of material like "Chance" would have at least been different). But no. The album just sucks. I appreciate the persistence, and really anything in tribute to a great, fallen musician, but this is one cluttered breach of confidence.

Verdict: Fail [3/10] (lost inside his note)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Edge of Thorns (1993)

Being that Edge of Thorns marked an enormous transition for the band, Jon Oliva departing from his frontal duties to serve more as a 'creative' consultant, I might somewhat forgive it for some degree of shakiness. After all, Jon's voice is approximately 50% of why I listened to the group, the other half provided by Criss' guitar techniques. However, my early reaction to the Streets followup was one of utter revulsion, and at no point in the ensuing 20 years have I ever gone back to this and been able to reverse my judgement. Each exposure to Edge of Thorns is like another smack to the gob, a kick to the knickers, and ultimately this has proven one of my least favorite efforts of their career, and I was even more disappointed than on the overly dramatic Streets.

The first (and not the only) problem I have with this album is in the choice of vocalist Zak Stevens, who, through no real fault of his own, manages to soil the entire experience of what might otherwise be a mediocre selection of mid-paced, generally boring riffs that completely fail to evoke the same marvels as the band created during their peak (1983-1989, excepting Fight for the Rock). Gone are Jon Oliva's feral ravings and fragile undercurrents. Stevens sounds like an early round reject for American Idol, or someone who escaped a Skid Row cover band (though even Sebastian Bach has more acid in his inflection). Don't get me wrong, he's far from the shittiest singer I've heard step into a major metal outlet. Everything I've read or heard of Zak seems like a standup, enthusiastic fellow. He has the technical proficiency required to sing in key, and he doesn't shy away from attempting to implement a bit of Oliva's hard fought aggression. He can do delicate, and when he hits his swarthy lower range he reminds me of Daphne Zuniga (as Princess Vespa) in Spaceballs, singing the old spiritual "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen".

It's not so much a case of 'Ripper' Owens, where you've guy singing in a comparable style and range to his predecessor that somehow always feels forced or fake. No, Zak just sounds fake all the time here. His voice has always seemed to feel 'separate' from the music here, even after decades of getting used to him on this and the later records. Take "Degrees of Sanity", for instance, which might have been a decent atmospheric crawler of a track if not for Stevens' brooding timbre sounding anti-climactic and, frankly, awful, especially when he tosses a bit of 'edge' or grit to his tone. But the lows are not low enough. The hardness does not bite enough. All of that manic anger and passion that once defined this band has been leeched away, supplanted by somnolent, predictable and overbearing smoothness that gimps all of the tormented emotions that attracted me to Savatage. He makes about half the songs on this album, including the title track, sound like Survivor wrote them. Lots of needless rock refrains and dated, insincere chutzpah. I won't even get into how laughable the guy sounds in the ballads like "All That I Bleed", which makes even the wussiest Streets material seem like titanium alloy by comparison...

Which leads me to my next issue with Edge of Thorns: it's more or less a rehash of the two albums before it. Perhaps mildly more 'metal' in overall content than Streets, but just as privy to failed mainstreaming rock ballads and hammy theatrics. In attempting to build the same mood and drama as Gutter Ballet or Streets, we end up with a bevy of dried out, antiquated middle of the road riffing sequences. Criss still shines in his lead expositions, wailing and shredding up to his reputation within the verse/chorus confinements he himself helped create, but much of the record lacks balls, it's like cheap radio AOR branded with the Savatage logo. The Floridians were never strangers to groovy hard rock dynamics, but fuck, "Lights Out" might have well just been on a Skid Row or Dangerous Toys record. All it's missing are the star-starved, fishnet-stocking skanks. "Skraggy's Tomb" sounds like something Jackyl would write.Vapid, escalating Zippo waving pap like "Miles Away" or the Floyd-ish "Follow Me" is just as uninspired and pathetic as anything you'd find off Fight for the Rock...

Once again, there are TOO MANY ballads, and we're not talking anything with "Silent Lucidity" potential here, but a handful of safely coifed album fillers like the all-too-aptly-titled finale "Sleep". Stripped down, boring acoustic guitars, no real atmosphere to speak of, and vocal lines that might has well been written by any Top 40 surrogate. Though the bass has a decent, loud tone, and the rhythm guitar a bit of processed punch that rendered it more modern than the prior albums, these instruments and the drums might as well have been phoned in by session musicians. There is no distinction. No personality to the performances. Apart from the gracious glaze of lead in "Labyrinths", the two instrumentals on this album are dry of ideas and useless; compare them to "Silk and Steel" or "Temptation Revelation" or "Prelude to Madness" and feel just how lazy and needless they are. Even where Savatage tries to build a decent emotional climax to a track, like in "Conversation Piece" the payoff is puked upon by garbage lyrics:

Like pieces of myself/cut off in desperation
As offerings to thee/I keep them on a shelf
They're good for conversation/Over a cup of tea, yeah, cup of tea

Really? Ooooh yeah. Pure me a Tetley, and then fuck off!

Perhaps the greatest tragedy, though, is that this was not only Criss Oliva's studio swan song with the band, but the end of his musical career, taken in a fateful car accident the October of the same year. I've explained in other Savatage reviews what an influence this guy had on my own development as a teen learning the instrument, and thus its doubly bittersweet that he would leave us on such a stagnant note. To tally up the number of interesting guitar licks on this album, I would have to cut off all the fingers on my left hand, and two from the right. It is truly that empty and uninspired, poppy and production-nullified metal with a selection of cheap choruses and bland rock & roll hooks that fucking Foreigner would have left on the cutting room floor. Normally, if the music was decent, and the vocals were something I could remember 5 minutes after listening, I wouldn't mind this approach. There have been commercial hard rock and wimp-metal albums I've enjoyed, but Edge of Thorns is just an overpolished, overhyped, rose scented toilet bowl ready for a good dump to remind it of its true purpose.

Verdict: Fail [3.5/10] (I don't think about you)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Streets: A Rock Opera (1991)

Streets was the first unified concept album from Savatage, to be later followed up by titles like Dead Winter Dead and Wake of Magellan. While there were certainly some recurrent themes on prior efforts, this is the first case of an actual, straight narrative coursing through. They wrote up a bunch of characters and a sequence of revelations and events that would create the same level of drama you'd find in an old Broadway show, so of course it's set in the stereotypical New York City location with a story of drug dealers, poverty, and redemption. To be fair, this is by no means an awful album, and it largely continues the legacy of its predecessor Gutter Ballet, but therein also lies my primary issue...

I already got just about all I need, or could ever desire of Savatage performing this transparent, sentimental 'sorry for myself' pandering through tracks like "Gutter Ballet" or "When the Crowds are Gone". All Streets really ever amounts to is "Gutter Ballet" expanded outwards into nearly 70 minutes of inconsistent material, some decent and some swill. Sure, there are some touching moments for our protagonist D.T. Jesus in this story, but it's hard not to feel like the Floridians are projecting here, that this is somehow about their own addictions and coping with the fact that they just weren't seeing the critical and financial success they had deserved (and they did, with Hall of the Mountain King and Gutter Ballet). Granted, most musicians are reaching for the same personal space when creating their art, but I just couldn't shake the impression that this was a safety pitch meant to walk or single the batter up to first base. Aside from the narrative solidarity, there is nothing new here which wasn't already performed better on the previous album, and though I do love a handful of the licks, the endless tirade of piano balladry puts me to sleep (I'm sure it does wonders if played in a TSO set, but I don't listen to that band).

I could compact my personal highlights of this album down to about 20 minutes. "Sammy and Tex" is a nice, dirty speed metal piece with some guitar acrobatics. "Ghost in the Ruins", "Agony and Ecstasy" and "Jesus Saves" have hooks that are impossible to deny, and the orchestration and dark vocal arrangements of "Streets" itself are also quite impressive. Apart from that, I have to pick and choose moments of interest, because uplifting bedtime pieces like "Heal My Soul" and "Believe" are lost on me. I'm a thoroughly evil human being, after all, and the thought of children holding hands and singing hymns to Jesus or their orphan matron are most repulsive. I would have taken after Gargamel if he wasn't always getting punked by blue fairies. My children will listen to Marduk and (early) Gorgoroth as I rear them to become despots and fiends. I rarely speak in this same, sweet emotional language, so it's not often a banal radio ballad is going to effect me. I laughed a half dozen times when I first heard this album at the ripe age of about 17. Savatage seemed to me on the precipice of becoming pansies, sprouting petals...while I was privately crossing my fingers for a few Sammy/Tex rematches.

The production here didn't seem nearly so powerful and effective as Gutter Ballet, either. Oh, it's plenty atmospheric, and there are places where you feel like you're out on a city street with snow trickling down on you while surrounded by Holiday wreaths and lights, but the rhythm guitars are often too subtle behind the grit of Jon Oliva's vocals, and the keys here seem a little overdone, where they were an excellent addition to the prior albums. The drums and bass hardly have to do a fucking thing, so simple are most of these tracks, so they're never exactly a factor beyond their vapid rock pummeling. A lot of the leads are teensy, more like little melodies you'd find on an AOR track, and most of the songs move along in very predictable chord patterns, with a dearth of those savage grooves that I so lusted to hear. In the end, this is a soap opera with a few watered down ideas from Gutter Ballet spent to exhaustion. I mean, where's the power? I want "Sirens", man. Fuckin' "Legions". "By the Grace of the Witch"! Where do you go after such a drippy album as this one? Christmas carol covers with guitar solos? O.o

Verdict: Indifference [5.5/10] (red eyes sunken and stark)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Gutter Ballet (1989)

I must say it: attempting to follow up a mighty masterwork like Hall of the Mountain King would be a daunting prospect for even the most practiced composers, so it's a great credit to Savatage that they managed to eke out what has since become my second favorite disc in their catalog. Gutter Ballet is a bigger budget album with slightly more polished tones, and it's a work of greater contrasts than its predecessor, as the band alternates its heavier, metallic elements with an exploration of theatrical, piano-heavy ballads that had been present through parts of Fight with the Rock. Part Queen, part The Who, part "Eye of the Tiger" and part Savatage, to call this album sentimental would be an understatement, but the drama really works thanks to some fantastic songwriting from the Olivas.

There are some who absolutely loathe the rock opera-styled tearjerkers coursing through this album, but where its successor Streets tossed us a lot of really forgettable tunes that ran on together due to their redundancy, cuts like "When the Crowds Are Gone" or "Gutter Ballet" actually feel genuine and stirring. One can just envision the theater after hours, a sad and unsuccessful power metal balladeer stepping onto an empty, dimly lit stage and singing and playing his heart out, while in the alley out back, a street band hears his plight and adds some accompaniment. Of course, this is an aesthetic Savatage would later take too far, quashing many of the harder edged, metallic elements that made the band so distinct in the first place, but on Gutter Ballet it was a welcome departure. The songs spoke to me, and despite the obvious nudge forward in accessibility, it didn't at all feel like a 'sellout', since the band does in fact get heavy. It also feels like a very natural 'extension' from its predecessor, a refined metamorphosis.

Where the band most experiments, like the airy classical/folk guitar interlude "Silk and Steel" or the grand, operatic instrumental "Temptation Relevation", they come up with successful results, catchy tracks that offer us a brief and welcome respite from the heavier compositions. I do feel partial to the thundering step of opener "Of Rage and War", or the swaggering "Hounds", which most reflect the mindset the band was in when they wrote Hall of the Mountain King, but there are other divergent thrills like "She's In Love", the sexy speed metal hearkening back to the Power of the Night aesthetic, only adding a little further hustle to the guitars (love those damned squeals in the setup). At times, Gutter Ballet is admittedly a 'piano album', but let's not forget that this is also Criss Oliva's puppy, and he is all over this fucking thing, with a pristine, clear tone that sends each hook catapulting into the vaults of memory. The bass and drums also stand out on this album more than ever before, with more lower/higher end distinctions. Middleton is pretty amazing.

I honestly worship the first nine songs on this record; after that, the quality dips a fraction with "Summers Rain", another dreary power ballad which just doesn't have the same staying potential. The lurching, angry "Thorazine Shuffle" does a great job of ramping the tension back up, but it's also not as immediate as those heavier cuts before it like "Mentally Yours" or "The Unholy", and I really only love the chorus for its exotic, Eastern desert aesthetic. Once again, the band uses Robert Kinkel for keys, and he does a standup job of providing that extra, atmospheric texture without ever standing in the way of the core instruments. The mix of everything on this album is just smashing, radio-ready and multi-layered so that, with the exception of a few piano/vocal only moments, you're ears are always being siphoned off in numerous directions. The leads are a mixed bag, some of the runs among Criss's finest, others just don't seem so memorable.

Ultimately, Gutter Ballet might not have gifted me that same level of thrill that Hall of the Mountain King manifest, but it was still an impressive record for its time, and also well AHEAD of its time. Of the 52 minutes (including CD bonus "Thorazine Shuffle"), I'd say about 42-44 were brilliant, and it trails off nearer the end, but otherwise I cannot find any fault in it. This is largely fantastic and emotionally resonant music. I only wish Savatage's operatic ambitions ended here, because this record makes its followup feel like an also-ran. After 1989, it felt to me that nearly every album this band was releasing was 'more of the same', even with the revolving door of musicians and the various concepts that they pursued. The last of the essentials, as far as I'm concerned, but if you're entirely turned off by the band's calmer moments, stick to Sirens and Hall of the Mountain King.

Verdict: Epic Win [9/10] (neon cuts the eye)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Hall of the Mountain King (1987)

Not only one of the best 'rebound' records in metal history, but one of the most poignant and memorable excursions of all the US power/heavy efforts I've ever heard, through the 80s and beyond. Savatage might have just written up another Fight for the Rock, pursued the path of extinction in vain, for a market penetration they were unlikely to achieve; but they turned everything around and gave us their heaviest album yet, surpassing their earliest works Sirens and The Dungeons are Calling with ease. While the Floridians might not have had the same pull as a Slayer, Megadeth or Metallica, Hall of the Mountain King was a pretty popular album where I came from, enough that it slipped across the bounds of the 'mainstream metal' culture and was a topic for much discussion. Frankly, though, this deserved far more than even that, because it is damn near perfection and has that rare ability to transport the listener straight back to wherever he or she was the first time listening.

Sheer escapism cloaked in fantastic themes, and yet tethered to the deeply personal traumas of reality through hymns of addition, lost love and suicide. Hall of the Mountain King might have transformed Savatage into a Jefferson Airplane for my generation if only a few hundred thousand more people had been paying attention, instead of stroking and hairspraying themselves, adjusting their shoulder pads in the mirror while they listened to "Wanted Dead or Alive" and nervously anticipated prom drama. The writing is intelligent, tortured, and sounded like no one else out there at the time, unless we're counting Savatage themselves. I don't think I've ever heard Jon Oliva traipse along the margin of sanity and sorrow so closely, not even on the more 'emotionally' driven, accessible rock opera albums that followed this one. He's actually using a lot of higher pitched screams and howls through this record, more than the earlier works, and does a lot of double tracked barking in tunes like "Legions", which only adds to the pervasive asylum aesthetic dominating the overall atmosphere. I'm not saying he's got the range or capability of the more popular English royals in the field, but when he sustains a shrill shriek it will chill you like a morning mist in November. When he and guest Ray Gillen partner up for the chorus of "Strange Wings", try not to cry!

Hall of the Mountain King has, hands down, one of the best guitar tones I've heard on ANY metal album, rich and rustic in both power and feeling, like chopping wood out back of a cabin on the mountainside. He brings forward a lot of the hard rock grooves that were prevalent on Sirens and Power of the Night, but they sound far nasty in the context of "24 Hrs. Ago", where the muscle the listener immediately into submission for the remainder of the runtime; or the estimable bad assery of "Legions". At the same time, he also lets the chords air out through a more tender, melodic number like "Strange Wings", and the chugging sounds intense without any unnecessary level of overdrive. Clean, harmonic picking also sounds ripe in the intro to "Beyond the Doors of the Dark". The leads burn throughout with this feral, bluesy emotion, but Criss Oliva also flexes his classical shredding chops in the cover of  Edvard Grieg's "Prelude to Madness", the setup for the title track (also created in tribute to the Norwegian composer). And as we all know, that very metalization would later inspire the band's Dead Winter Dead concept album, and the ensuing, groan-inducing Trans-Siberian Orchestra, which would make them a LOT of money.

Perhaps I'm just a dick, but the rhythm section never exactly stood out to me in Savatage, probably due to my rabid Criss worship. That said, I fucking love the production of the drums on this record. You can feel each of Wacholz' kicks on your spine, and the guy has such excellent restraint, placing only the most minimal, effective fills on the stopping/starting phrases in cuts like the speed metal "White Witch". I couldn't always make out the bass very well in places, but in others like "The Price You Pay" it thumps along like a champ. Johnny Lee Middleton shows a lot more technique here than Fight for the Rock, and I almost wish I could hear the coiled, open power of the low strings even more. Hall of the Mountain King also has what must be the best use of synthesizers ever, performed by Robert Kinkel; quaint and subtle in support of the meaty rhythm guitar chops. There are a lot of ambient effects, bells and quiet choirs dispersed throughout the record to give it that sense of utter grandeur, and yet as soon as the guitars bluster out some manic riff like the intro to the title track, Savatage brings you straight to ground and then beats you in the spleen with a warhammer.

Unlike Sirens, Power of the Night and Fight for the Rock, there is absolutely ZERO stupidity to be found on this record. Granted, "Legions" and its 'metal storming masses' does mirror the whole 'metal children' anthem that the band had used a few times in the past, but it feels so much more serious and aggressive through the riffing delivery. But in terms of hooks, choruses, and lyrical delivery, this is nigh on spotless, and the band even goes above and beyond excellence when they escalate into Jon's screaming refrain in the "Hall of the Mountain King" bridge, or the bass-driven progressive rock grooves cutting through "24 Hrs. Ago". The topography of the songwriting is gorgeous, with peaks and valleys, glories and depressions that keep each track interesting throughout. The one possible exception is the closer "Devastation", which has some tremendous grooves and melodies coursing through the verses, and a very Maiden-like discourse of guitar and bass tucked into it, but seems a fraction less revelatory than the rest of the music (still better than most of the Savatage material not on this album, though).

I'd note that this is really where Paul O'Neill became heavily involved with Savatage; the man who would essentially become one of the visionaries behind their development, not merely a producer. This is easily the best album he's ever produced. The Gary Smith cover art is incredibly iconic, its bare-chested, bearded overlord firing off lightning bolts into a pair of flanking braziers, while a goblin jester looks on from the shadows. As a role-playing freak eagerly awaiting the 2nd edition of AD&D, I really wanted to travel this world, to fight this guy, to swipe up that axe, that dagger, and the chest of treasure here; but make no mistake about it, Hall of the Mountain King is no dweeby, laughing matter. It's an ageless phenomena, an album I never grow tired of hearing, and the clear summit in their body of work. The biggest downside to this record is following its lines of succession, watching everything slide downhill as the band took its interest in rock opera narrative to new heights, and then suffered an unimaginable tragedy. But this one album, this one place, this one time, this one statement, is eternal, and how could I ever truly look down on a band that gave me such a gift?!

Verdict: Epic Win [9.75/10] (but he's not the only one)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Fight for the Rock (1986)

Perhaps the greatest crime committed by the third Savatage full-length is that it stacks up so poorly against all its immediate neighbors, or the band's entire body of work in the 80s. But it's quite a lengthy rap sheet. On the surface, Fight of the Rock continues to take the Olivas and company further into the direction of mainstream accessibility, and this results in both a more harmonic, sterile and 'safe' sound that renders much of its content forgettable. As an EP with 3-4 of its better songs, this is a functional hybrid of heavy metal and hard rock, but there are periods through the track list where there is simply too much inactivity. The banal 'flow' of the record does it no service, and at least 50% of this music is complete scrap.

I'm primarily talking about how they launch us off with the decent title track, loaded with appreciable licks that once again place Criss Oliva's performance front and center. The verse riffs are just as catchy as "Power of the Night", the lead is decent and Jon gets off a few shrill screams in there, plus as cheesy as the chorus might seem, it works. But then, for whatever reason they change up the pacing and seem to become the Beatles ("Out on the Streets") gone horny for 80s power ballads ("Crying for Love", "Day After Day"). Savatage were not particularly awful at this sort of mainstream radio crap, no more so than most of the acts that were making a fortune on the airwaves (fuck off nowadays Bryan Adams!), but let's face it: this was not their calling, even if tracks like "Lady in Disguise" showed a fraction of ambition with their added horns and other instrumentation. Apart from "The Edge of Midnight" with its campy, haunted house intro, or the semi catchy "She's Only Rock'Roll", or "Hyde", which seemed like it would have been a better B-side for Hall of thee Mountain King, there's pitifully little of interest here.

Even the production seems throwaway, a bit murkier and less crisp than on the debut. There's a good deal of atmosphere created through Jon's more cutting vocals, which have plenty of reverb on them to slice straight into the night, but the overall vibe of the album is rarely one of the dark, sweaty streets on the prior album. As for Criss, I'd have to say he has a lower ratio of quality riffs here than any other album (including Streets and Edge of Thorns, two others I'm not fond of). The leads rarely matter outside of the better songs (which I've already named), and even in something like "Hyde" the patterns are a bit lackluster. The lyrics are even more effete than the album before it. 'Get rock dedication?' 'You know you better fight for the rock!' Gah, NO, Savatage. I will not! In fact, this whole album seems like it was compromised of cutting room floor clips that just weren't good enough to include with Power of the Night, especially the wimpier numbers that must have been omitted for feeling 'too different, too soon' from Sirens and The Dungeons are Calling. As if the band and Atlantic wanted to 'ease us' into this family friendly Savatage we could take on a picnic. I'd rather just leave it for the ants to carry off.

Thankfully, whatever fluke juice went into this creation ran dry in the band's veins for their ensuing magnum opus, but I'll be honest with you: I have a hard time even remembering this exists on most days. I can remember a friend and I doing our normal weekend stroll to Strawberry's Records & Tapes, seeing this on the shelf and being surprised it even existed, because no one actually gave a shit. It's almost supernatural in its mediocrity, the most average record ever made, and was a sharp letdown even after Power of the Night, an album that itself had a divisive reaction. I wouldn't dub it 'terrible', per se, because Savatage was just the sort of group which was competent enough to try anything, but it doesn't deserve to bear the same logo on it as Hall of the Mountain King or Gutter Ballet. Not recommended to those newly exploring the band, and if you're really all that curious, just YouTube the title track, maybe "The Edge of Midnight" and call it a day.

Verdict: Indifference [5/10] (don't slip away)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Power of the Night (1985)

Power of the Night was clearly cognizant of its stature as the first of Savatage's major label efforts, and I think it was little surprise that the band pursued a more accessible countenance than Sirens; but honestly, apart from the huge leap in production values here, the vastly cleaner mix, this is not in fact a stylistic departure from its predecessors. Less gloomy and grim than The Dungeons are Calling EP? Sure, but I don't feel that the band had abandoned its atmospheric principles here. In fact the use of synthesizers and horror/sex themes throughout the sophomore seem to implicate something far more than the usual Mötley Crüe or Dokken associations that were pretty hot at the time, and I for one still enjoy this album despite a few of the laugh out loud lyrics.

Some accused this album very early on of being a 'sellout' which veered a little too closely to the more mainstream hard rock sounds of its day, but I find the notion to lack some credibility, since there were already some similar riffing patterns on the older releases, not to mention the cheesy sex lyrics. Of course, Power of the Night seems rather obsessed with the subject, with the pole-dancing Zeppelin-esque rock of "Hard for Love" with its melodic backing chorus vocals; or the smutty speed metal of "Skull Session", or the corpse-copulating grooves of "Necrophilia", but what do all three of these songs have in common? They're actually pretty goddamn catchy, as much as I might cringe to admit it (in the case of "Hard for Love") when I hear a line like 'I like when we move faster/that's why I'm gonna blast ya!'. And it's not like there aren't a handful of the more 'serious' songs here which have similarly goofy lyrics. 'Raise the fist of the metal child', indeed. Despite the estimable camp, though, Power of the Night seems pretty heartfelt, a misty, midnight street alternative to Sirens' claustrophobic sewer catacombs.

Thanks to the crisp mix, Criss Oliva's guitars absolutely smolder here through both the rhythm licks and the incendiary leads, both of which seem to have developed quite nicely from the earlier records. Guitar tone in general is far easier to follow than the clunkier production of Sirens, and where the grooves merge with Jon's keyboards in pieces like "Unusual", the album is genuinely creepy, or at least it seemed that way in the mid 80s. Collins' bass lines are more standout here, and 'Doc's' drums also delivered in a better ratio to the vocals and rhythm guitars, but the brothers Oliva are still the champions here, whether they're lashing out the dirty stripper-pole grooves in "Stuck On You" or the street fighting overtures of "Warriors". Influences run the gamut from Queen (intro to "Warriors") to Judas Priest ("Washed Out"), and each of the tunes has a readily defined, distinct chorus sequence which separates it from the rest. You also get an early incarnation of the band's 'rock opera' here: "In the Dream"; once more smacking of Queen, and my least favorite on this album, but certainly a premonition for much of the material on Gutter Ballet or Streets.

All told, I still find the album pretty irresistible thanks to the songwriting, production, and perhaps most importantly, the guitar playing. It's as sincere as it looks, a metal gauntlet thrust through a sheet of glass beneath a chrome-tinted logo. The riffing in tunes like "Power of the Night" or "Unusual" is unforgettable, and I can recall weeks of going through these old Savatage records and learning the individual licks, so enamored was I to Criss' sense of flare and style. This was one of Max Norman's earlier metal records, along with the work he was doing with Japan's Loudness, and he really brought the group out of the Dark Ages so you could really appreciate their ample wizardry. I can understand how a few fans might have found this dry, or less inspired than The Dungeons Are Calling, but if you don't mind a little mix of 70s and 80s hard rock influence in your bowl of metal flakes, and a few amusing, dated lyrical passages, there's no reason not to join in the fun. Not their best, perhaps, but I'd easily take this over anything else they've released in the past 20 years and change.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (the witch has been conceived)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Sirens (1983)

As often as my opinions have fluctuated beyond their 1989 opus Gutter Ballet, Savatage was once one of the most rock steady, reliable heavy metal groups of the Southern USA; the darker aesthetics they brought to hard rock fundamentals peeling off into an ambitious development that many bands would simply have been too fearful to attempt. I felt that the band was always under some sort of pressure, perhaps due to their own expectations, more likely from their major label (Atlantic), but the fact that they nonetheless managed to tough it out, remaining in the spotlight for such a long time without even packing tours or generating immense sales of their records, is a testament to the devotion of the Floridians.

Sirens was, of course, from a more innocent time, before the Oliva brothers evolved the band's course into its rock opera state, and yet there are still threads of almost theatrical elegance to how they crafted a number of the songs. After changing names form the far less distinct Avatar, they had begun to move in a moodier, dark direction that, like it's US, German and British counterparts, strafed the line between the arena mentality of hard rockin' sex thug anthems and the more aggressive speed and thrash that was only then beginning to emerge from a handful of scenes. Sirens still has a lot of natural groove to it, due to the writing style and performance of guitarist Criss Oliva, who to me always resembled a 'poor mans Randy Rhodes', but would inevitably become one of my favorite players of this precious period, due to his coordination of pure, molten riffing patterns, flashy but memorable licks and the escapism of his leads.

This debut wasn't the heaviest or most complex of their outlets. It didn't possess that same, vicious songwriting economy of a Show No Mercy or Kill 'Em All, yet it's still a hard-hitting classic, one of their career best, and despite the chunkiness of its production, it hasn't lost much luster through the intermittent decades. Like the ancient sewers and waterways that the elfin rogue children of its cover travel through, Sirens is a claustrophobic, cavernous sounding record, with a heavily processed guitar tone that mixes with the vocal reverb and other effects to create this echoing paean to evil. As a contrast, Steve 'Doc' Wacholz drums are mixed humbly, snapping and crashing along without that same level of vaulted atmosphere. The bass, performed here by an earlier member (Keith Collins) wasn't much of a presence itself, gently plugging along to support Oliva's churning rhythms, woozy octave chord slides, and gloomy clean tones.

Even more impressive than his brother, though, was Jon Oliva's barking, enraged inflection, one of the most unique in all heavy/power metal of the 80s, and a trait I've long considered a make it/break it factor in terms of my interest in their output. The man's style just exudes sinister intentions, like the villain in any classic play or horror film. The wolf man, stalking the wood behind you. Jack the Ripper, polishing his instruments while he waits for an unsuspecting lady of the night. MacBeth, eyes burning with the blood of his revenge. While some might have faulted him for lacking the range of a Halford, Dickinson or Ronny James Dio, for me he provided ample proof that the best singers are not always those with the 'prettiest' or widest capabilities, but those that make the best of what they've got. Jon can do delicate, and he can emit a shriek or two when it suits him, but it's this rabid, mad dog mid-range that, more than anything, made me such a fan.

Not all of Sirens aged well for me. In particular, the smutty "Twisted Little Sister" lacks an interesting hook, and the vocals and lyrics are beyond cheesy unless you really like your dim lit 80s S&M metal for the sake of burning its own candle wax. I also feel that the front half of the album is a cut above the rest. Deeper in, you've got "Living for the Night" and "Out on the Streets", solid enough tunes, but nowhere near as strong as something like "Sirens" itself, with its hypnotic, eerie clean guitars and bells that transition into a filthy dose of primal power metal that captured the threatening mythology of its subject matter. "Holocaust" and "On the Run" had a lot of that dirty, beloved hard rock groove, while "Rage" is borne more on Motörhead speed metal fix with some of Jon's higher pitched howls and screams. In general, though, I could listen today to almost the entire album with the exception of "Twisted..." and the later added bonus tracks, and still get the same thrills as I did in Junior High.

I wouldn't hold the production up alongside their finest works (like Hall of the Mountain King), since it seems mildly uneven and the rhythm section leaves more of a footnote than an impression, but as a debut for the Oliva brothers, you can't really go wrong here. In terms of complexity, it's not much more involved than Iron Maiden or the other serious entries in the NWOBHM field, but the band knew how to throw down a chorus, provide interesting verse riffing, and there are plenty of little licks to pick out there, thanks to Criss Oliva's ceaseless unrest for the mundane patterns a lot of also-ran metal acts were producing. Ultimately, while it's no American masterpiece, it's a damn good debut which an appeal that transcends generations, and I'd count at least the title track as one of their top 10-15 songs ever written.

Verdict: Win [8.75/10] (hungry for man tonight)

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - Ghost in the Ruins: A Tribute to Criss Oliva (1995)

I can't be the only person that teared up a little when he realized there would be, at long last, a full-fledged live album featuring the late Criss Oliva of Savatage in his rightful spot on the lead guitar. The man was a major influence on my own playing from an early age, and to be perfectly blunt with you, the very idea of a Savatage without Criss performing, and without Jon handling vocals, is alien to me. Unnecessary, even. I mean no offense to the revolving door of musicians the band used to fill in the blanks later in their career, but I've just never been able to get too into anything the band released after Gutter Ballet, so I was literally beaming with joy when this arrived in my clutches, and it's a real treat that this sounds as good as it does; one last hurrah with the wizard of the frets.

Ghost in the Ruins is not necessarily a 'proper' live outing, but a collection of cuts compiled from various gigs spanning the years 1987-1990, arguably the band's creative peak in terms of studio output. All of the performances are from here in the States, and it might have been slightly superior if they'd chosen to interject a few European festivals or tours just for variation, but in general the quality of the mix here is intense and vivid enough to carry a listener to those fateful, important years of their evolution. With Chris Caffery's rhythm guitar beneath Oliva's wilder lead tendencies, tunes like "City Beneath the Surface", "Of Rage and War" and "The Dungeons are Calling" sound tremendous. It's utterly fantastic that, even at this more 'rock opera' oriented stage (which would culminate with Streets and the later albums), the band was hammer out wonderful live interpretations of their pure metal roots, merging them into sets alongside the more delicate cuts like "When the Crowds are Gone" or "Gutter Ballet" itself. It's also impressive that, despite these being different gigs, the mastering keeps the varied levels relatively balanced so that it could almost pass for a single set on a single night of magic...

It's true that much of this material is drawn from Hall of the Mountain King and Gutter Ballet, with a few of the earliest tunes for good measure. I wouldn't have minded a few of my favorite numbers from Power of the Night making the selection, but then, that and its successor Fight for the Rock were divisive records, and I might have been alone in the majority for such a sentiment. Regardless, listening to Criss's leads here in "Legions", "24 Hours Ago" and "Hounds" alone would be worth the price of investment in this, and I'd rather experience this perpetually than suffer a family friendly Trans-Siberian Orchestra gig. The vocals have that classic balance of delicate, emotional resonance, grit and screaming, and the crowd response is good and loud without cutting into the instrumentation. Drums, bass, piano, everything is spot fucking on. I could live without the solo track (I rarely care for 80s guitar hero leads outside of the actual song context), and the 'post script' acoustic, but otherwise this is hands down one of the best live records from a classic US metal band of the 80s, whether you have to pay 10 or 20 or 50 dollars to track it down. In fact, even if it's not studio material and nothing new, it was the single most valuable Savatage record beyond 1989.

Verdict: Win [8.75/10]

http://www.savatage.com/

Savatage - The Dungeons are Calling EP (1984)

Time may not have been kind to Savatage, as numerous tragedies (the loss of amazing axeman Criss Oliva, the temporary absence of songwriter extraordinaire Jon Oliva, and the hiring of the well-meaning but mediocre Zach Stevens) flubbed up the band's impressive body of early work. But there was a time when the name Savatage resounded with glory, in particular the first crop of records up to and including Hall of the Mountain King. Before cutting their teeth on rock operas and concept albums, Florida's best known metal squad were creating rough and ready, old school power metal with Jon Oliva's distinct vocals, and writing to die for.

Look into my eyes, I'm poisoning you
I watch as you grovel in my stew
I'm bastardized, cursed by sin
Come on down to Hell, watch the flames begin

The Dungeons are Calling EP was a product of the band's Combat Records years, and a followup to the excellent debut album Sirens. The material is quite thoroughly memorable and awe inspiring while almost managing to compete with the heavier bands of the day (Venom, Onslaught, Slayer, etc.) due to its dirty, subterranean atmosphere. Almost of the tracks rule, from the epic "Dungeons are Calling" to the melodic, unforgettable "By the Grace of the Witch", "Visions", and incredible "City Beneath the Surface". The exception would be lame boogie of "The Whip". If you've gotten the more recent release of the EP, it comes with a meh bonus track in "Fighting for Your Love" and a live in Germany version of "Sirens". Obviously this band needs no introduction to the seasoned metalhead, but if like grimy, old school meta dirt then you need to acquire this alongside Sirens, Power of the Night and Hall of the Mountain King.

Highlights: Dungeons are Calling, By the Grace of the Witch, Visions, City Beneath the Surface

Verdict: Win [8/10] (how you survive on evil and blood?)

http://www.savatage.com/