QUEENSRYCHE GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER
It’s not fair to count Queensryche among the great, horrible post-fame implosions like Metallica or Eddie Murphy; the Seattle band’s descent into crumminess was far less cataclysmic, more akin to a weather-beaten house’s piece-by-piece collapse than the toppling of a high rise by a C4 fireball. But the sad fact remains that post-1993 Queensryche is a patience-testing proposition; albums seem tired and tend to implicate their authors as out of love with the creation of music.
Hey, it’s understandable if for no other reason than their grueling tour for 1990’s triple-platinum Empire. Shows numbered in excess of 150 over 18 months, and each 2.5 hour show opened with an mini-set of mostly Empire stuff, then Operation: Mindcrime in its Tate-exhausting entirety, plus two encores. That’s enough worldwide grinding to snuff out inspiration in even the most prolific, expressive songwriter, of which Queensryche soon found themselves one short following the 1997 departure of guitarist Chris DeGarmo. By that point, Queensryche was sounding downright ragged and, evidently, uninterested in quality sonics.
