Queensrÿche
American Soldier

I believe that by now, when listening to a Queensrÿche album, I shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore. 

Absolutely eclectic band, they manage, with every album, to create and deliver unique and visceral emotions to anyone who has the good sense to buy their album and listen to it. And I'm not saying this because of any particular affection that ties me to them (years of honorable career have repaid my money spent on buying all their albums). I am referring precisely to the way they do things, to their disregard for trends, fads, for the nonsense that can circulate in a certain period of time because that's the "wind" blowing at that moment, and so "everyone is good if we follow that wind" or that track. But praises abound, and the album will never review itself... that's the real problem.

Leaving aside the (more than deserved) praises, we had left the Seattle band at the second chapter of their bestseller "Operation: Mindcrime," which became "Operation: Mindcrime II." For heaven's sake, a very good album but not fully convincing. An album that you need to listen to more than once to appreciate, where some solutions, some ideas, some songs seemed forced. But, all in all, enjoyable, especially because of the concept that connects the two albums (despite the years that separate them).

"American Soldier," on the other hand, shows the more "intimate" side and, in some sense, externalizes the 'rÿche's desire to return to playing what they do best. That heavy metal mixed with progressive atmospheres devoted to Rush, Genesis, and Yes of the golden times so dear to the singer Geoff Tate (a natural talent). 

Lyrically, however, they surpass themselves, because the album represents a concept centered precisely on war. But, mind you, it's not yet another concept album against war, or in favor of war, or whatever.

"American Soldier" is a "documentary" of war. Because it documents the emotions that soldiers go through in the various phases of it, describing their personal experience. Pure psychoanalysis. Psychoanalysis that becomes music, magical music, music that transports you and drags you along with it without leaving you for a second. Thanks to Michael Wilton's splendid solos, to Geoff Tate's magical voice lamenting the cruelty and despair of war where there are neither winners nor losers, only atrocities. 

Perfect songs perfectly mixed together, averaging 5-6 minutes in length that will never bore you, because contrary to what someone might imagine, this time they really committed themselves. Geoff Tate, in person, wanted to pay tribute to his father's career (military officer who served the United States in Korea and Vietnam) but, at the same time, he paid tribute to all the war veterans he interviewed to "psychoanalyze" them, draw profit, teachings and experience from their stories in order to ultimately create songs and lyrics.

Without delving into a tedious "track by track," I can say that from the initial "Silver," where a soldier's experience of leaving adolescence to enter the world's arena is tackled ("... welcome to the show"), you smoothly transition from more metal moments to more oriental and Middle Eastern atmospheres ("A Dead Man's Words," where the main theme is the rescue of an injured soldier in the Middle East), then return to the metal-prog atmospheres of "The Killer" (in battle, you must make a decision: shoot to kill or be killed). Perhaps one of the most beautiful compositions of the entire album.

And if in "The Middle Of Hell" it really seems to be in the middle of hell (we are in Baghdad), what surprises the most in this song is the refrain "I'm all right, I'll be all right" ("I'm fine, it will all be fine." Phrases repeated by the wounded who might have lost a leg or an arm in war but cheer themselves up), in "Remember Me" Michael Wilton once again graces us with one of his fascinating solos.

The last songs to mention are, definitely and surely, the moving ballad "Home Again" where we breathe Pink Floydian atmospheres (it almost feels like being back to the times of "Silent Lucidity") and, within which, we hear Geoff Tate's hyper-technical voice (inspired) duet with his 10-year-old daughter Emily. This in honor of the fact that the topic in question is the separation from loved ones, based on a series of letters between the father at the front and his little girl. I won't express further comments on Tate's vocal performance, nor on Emily's who is truly touching and moving (you can tell she's a child and, even if she won't have her father's technical talent, she manages to captivate the listener reaching straight to their heart, piercing their soul). Probably (in my opinion) if the little one had shown more maturity and experience in using her vocal cords and singing, she would have ruined everything and the song wouldn't have turned out so well. 

The other composition, however, is the concluding "The Voice," entirely dedicated to Geoff Tate's father and his career (setting: Korea and Vietnam). Opened by Tate senior's narration (over seventy years old), the song is, as always, a great taste of that progressive rock that Queensrÿche have shown they can write and play in their masterpieces ("Promised Land" and "Q2K" above all). A song in which you'll find yourselves whispering "don't be afraid."

Each song is a different experience from the previous one, each song is dedicated to a different moment, and each song will catapult you into a new dimension. You’ll "enjoy" the intros of some veterans, their narratives that will never undermine the 12 gems that make up "American Soldier," perhaps one of the most mature albums that Queensrÿche could have given us and, very likely, one of the most beautiful albums of all 2009 that I've ever listened to. 

Any further comments would be superfluous. 

Simply brilliant. Simply superlative. Simply... Queensrÿche!