Sometimes bad ideas really do turn out to be bad ideas. As you may have noticed, I love bad ideas. And now that I have befriended the Pirate, he has embraced my bad idea lifestyle, which is how we end up, say, trying to win a kiosk at the mall or driving to Wisconsin because we need something to do while we listen to Meat Loaf.
We had been looking forward to June 25th very much, because it was the release date of Geoff Tate's ill advised solo record, and we love anything ill advised. It goes hand in hand with loving bad ideas. So, we were chatting on the 24th when all of a sudden I realized that at midnight it became the 25th. We decided that it would be a really good idea (in an ill advised bad idea sort of way) to go buy the Geoff Tate album at midnight. The Pirate was going to buy it on the day of release anyway, because we were going to have a five-day listening bonanza in giddy preparation for the upcoming (and ill advised) Geoff Tate solo show. Let me point this out again. Sometimes bad ideas really turn out to be bad ideas.
On the way to the store, we started guessing how many members of Queensrÿche would make special guest appearances. Bare minimum, we decided, would be Scott Rockenfield guesting on not drums, but percussion. Any other members of Queensrÿche would be bonus. We got the CD without incident and started to leave. And who did I see on the other side of the door, but my very own Local Cool Guy! I threw myself against the glass, and we enacted Spock's death scene from The Wrath Of Khan.
As I was going all William Shatner, the Pirate was busy freeing the Geoff Tate CD from its plastic. I took the booklet to have a look. Uh-oh. Produced by Geoff Tate. There is a Pro Tools engineer listed. Managed by Susan Tate. Uh-oh. Under the lyrics of each song, there is a personnel listing. No members of Queensrÿche. I do see that the last line of Track 4 is, "Baby you're mine. All mine." With a line like that, I am anticipating Geoff Tate breaking out the creepy Gonna Get Close To You whisper. Ew! Gross! I can't wait to hear creepy Geoff Tate!
We lifted up the CD and on the photo under the tray, we saw Geoff Tate sitting at some sort of stone table in the woods. The Pirate declared it to be Geoff Tate's tea party, and we were thrilled. LCG, The Pirate and myself went right into Eric Cartman Mode. "Would you like some tea Geoff Tate? Why thank you Geoff Tate, this tea is tremendous. Well Geoff Tate, it's a distinctive Earl Grey." Our giddy thrill was getting giddier. Sadly, the thrill did not last long. Let me point out again, sometimes bad ideas really turn out to be bad ideas.
Here are the first impressions from our first listen to the Geoff Tate record, written down as they happened. The names of the songs are not important. We cannot provide you with any artsy commentary. What we have here is raw material, drawn from the horror of our night.
Since we do our best music listening in the car, that is where we were listening to Geoff Tate, just driving around with no destination decided upon. I was the scribe, and the Pirate was the driver, and it was just us, the notebook, and Geoff Tate.
Track 1
Me: It's not ominous, but it's trying to be.
Pirate: I'm having this vision of one really killer song, and that's it.
The sad thing is, he had this vision less than three minutes into the first song.
Pirate: First song, not so good.
That was the official verdict. I agree.
Track 2
We still had not chosen a destination. Until this song started.
Pirate: I think I'm going to just keep going nowhere, because that's what this album seems to be doing.
Me: I hope it only took an hour to record.
Pirate: Fifteen minutes to write. Longer to record. You know, it takes a while to program all those shitty drum loops.
And then I heard some of the lyrics. I heard the phrase, "Who wants to live forever." What? I'm pretty sure Queen used that line first, and actually did a good job with it.
Pirate: Not the most passionate touch my tears with your lips thing I've ever heard.
We didn't like track two.
Track 3
This song sounded like it may go somewhere.
Pirate: Geoff Tate, and don't hit me when I say this, Geoff Tate could stand to learn a thing from Bon Jovi's A&R guy. (A minute later) In defense of whatever's going on right now, this is the best song on the record so far.
That wasn't saying much. And then I heard fake Spanish guitar, which, of course, was done much better by special guest wandering minstrel Steve Howe on Queen's Innuendo record. Two songs in a row with things that Queen can do better than Geoff Tate.
Track 4
We thought it was building to something, and then it wasn't.
Pirate: Do we want to end up back at my house when Geoff Tate has ended, or do we need time to cleanse ourselves? Like when you order dessert because dinner wasn't that good.
There was no creepy whispering at the end of the song, and I was crushed.
Track 5
Here we go again. We're building to nothing. The Pirate was starting to take this badly.
Pirate: See! You built up to nothing again! Fuck you, Geoff Tate!
And then Geoff Tate started talking about madness and I got hopeful. That is a topic straight out of The Warning era. And of course, Geoff Tate disappointed me.
Me: Uh. He just rhymed same with game.
Pirate: And then he couldn't even do it again. He rhymed same with away.
(Extremely long silence.)
Pirate: On the bright side for the fabulous Queensrÿche band, this is a solo record. They don't have to be bad.
Track 6
Me: Is this a new song? (They blended together. Crap moved smoothly into crap.)
Pirate: Geoff Tate sounds wonderful.
Me: Pro Tools.
And what did the Czar say about Pro Tools? "Another name for bad playing: Pro Tools." I have heard Live Evolution. I know that Geoff Tate's voice is going. There is no way that this record is not doctored.
Track 7
I am kind of happy, for a time. There are both creepy Geoff Tate whisper vocals, The Killing Words style, and there are some powerful Rage For Order type vocals. Track seven also brought the very first drum fill of the evening.
Pirate: It sounded like it wanted to be more important than it was.
Midway through the song, there was a big buildup, a huge buildup. Our hope built along with the song. And then we had no hope. The song built to nothing. We had been both leaning forward in our seats, straining, willing the huge buildup to go somewhere. And it didn't. And we collapsed, deflated. All of the songs so far have built to nothing. No choruses, no hooks, nothing memorable at all.
Pirate: I liked it.
What?
Track 8
Pirate: Worst guitar tone ever.
Me: It's been bad the whole time.
He didn't mean just the song; he meant the whole record.
Pirate: This whole record, lyrically, as near as I can tell, is a love letter/apology to Susan.
Me: Do you hear the Bruce Hornsby piano?
I think the Pirate just screamed when I said that.
Track 9
Pirate: It took you eight songs to build to this? Geoff Tate sings with The Cult. Fucking Bruce Hornsby on piano. I think this is an attempt at a radio single that I saw on the sticker. I bet he opens with this.
Track 10
We sat for sometime together in silence, never speaking in words. Which is not only true, it is also a line from The Lady Wore Black. A song from the days when Geoff Tate attached himself to good music. The days when Geoff Tate cared about quality. We were wretched wrecks by now.
All of a sudden, midway through the song, the Pirate dissolved into a bitter, bitter rant. He went on and on and on. There was nothing that would ever make us feel better, ever again.
Track 11
Pirate: This would be my advice to you. Locate Chris DeGarmo and patch up your differences immediately. This makes Bruce Springsteen's Human Touch and Lucky Town phase seem fucking brilliant.
Partway through this song, LCG called. I answered with, "This album sucks so bad." There was no disguising how miserable we were. LCG was really fired up about the VH1 Storytellers featuring Def Leppard, and his cheer was cutting into my Geoff Tate induced gloom. I got off the phone, and the song was just about over.
And the record was done. And the Pirate sat there with his hand poised in front of the CD player.
Pirate: Do I even want to know if there's a shitty fucking hidden track?
So. The album was eleven songs that built to nothing, eleven songs that completely and totally disappointed us. The Pirate was worried that when he got home all of his CDs would have been stolen and all he would have left would be Geoff Tate.
You know, there are new releases that don't impress on the first listen, and need to be played more, and then there are the ones that should be pitched out the car window. Except in the case of Geoff Tate, had we pitched it out the window, we probably would have gotten the $700 littering fine, and our night would have been complete. Of all the times either of us has ever run out for a new release, this was the worst. The absolute worst.
To ease the pain, because we did indeed have to order dessert, we listened to Jazz. And it didn't cheer us up. Until we listened to it some more. 3 1/3 listens to Jazz made it all better. We were restored to our natural giddy states.
Until we spoke the following day and got all depressed again. We couldn't believe what a thoroughly awful job had been done on the album. The songwriting, the sound, the production, everything was crap. And the Pirate said, "Anything that can depress the two of us into utter silence has got to be evil. Profoundly evil." We had never been that quiet in our lives. Not when we were together. We can't have a three-minute silence between the two of us. But Geoff Tate did it. Because his album is evil. Profoundly evil.