Silly as Evanescence is, there’s so much about the gothic-inspired rock band to revel in.
First comes its birthplace, Arkansas. Known better for razorbacks, apple blossoms and Bill Clinton, the Southern state has few modern rock legacies. Yes, the state is well represented in country music (Johnny Cash), soul (Al Green), blues (Howlin’ Wolf) and jazz (Pharoah Sanders). But when you first hear Evanescence’s music – ultrapolished, overproduced rock music with bleak undercurrents and angled guitar work – The Natural State is far from the first place that pops in your mind.
And that’s great.
There’s also the band’s flair for drama. The band’s songs are overwrought with immature sentiment, dripping with overdramatic flair – to be expected, given its youthful fan base.
But some of it’s real. Amy Lee and Ben Moody formed Evanescence, which plays the Paramount Theatre on Tuesday, after meeting at a youth camp. As they broke into the mainstream in 2003 the friendship went into a downward spiral. They faked getting along for months, until Moody up and left the band in the middle of a European tour.
He showed up at the Grammy Awards the following year, assisting in the pick-up of awards for new artist and hard-rock performance. It was a bizarre spectacle, funny and uncomfortable.
Nowhere in rock music is the overdramatic more prevalent than the power ballad; it’s part of the reason we love the genre. Evanescence actually nailed this art form on its multiplatinum major-label debut. The late single “My Immortal” had a quiet rage that was beautiful and spiteful, nuanced and completely over the top. The best moment on the record, it gave “Fallen” a gigantic boost in sales and airplay long after its release.
The band is trying to recreate that magic on the new “The Open Door” with the track “Lithium.” It’s fortunate to have Lee at the helm: Her voice is pitch-perfect for the tightrope walk that is the power ballad. It’s all about emoting without overemoting. Her voice has that rare timbre that runs the spectrum of emotion without effort. It’s comforting, then menacing, then vulnerable.
But that gets lost in the translation here. The producers bury the band’s personality in the deliberate. Granted, the band’s personality is hardly unique. It’s of the Midwestern shopping mall variety, finely tailored for the Hot Topic generation. Still, there was something honest about “Fallen” that is notably absent from “The Open Door,” and that’s a large part of the reason “Lithium” fails.
Lee’s name is the only one on the song’s writing credit, and that makes sense lyrically with lines such as “I want to stay in love with my sorrow” and “Here in the darkness I know myself.” But her sappy words get lost in the tangle of melody surrounding them.
And as this track fails, the record goes down with it. The lead single “Call Me When You’re Sober” has the band taking a cue from Pink, and it’s not flattering. The group remains radio-friendly, but what little legitimacy it built up with the masterful and cheesily effective “My Immortal” is all lost.
Pop music critic Ricardo Baca can be reached at 303-954-1394 or rbaca@denverpost.com.
