Aural Fixations

NIKOLO KOTZEV
Nostradamus (Steamhammer/SPV)
TRENT GARDNER
Leonardo: The Absolute Man (Magna Carta)
Rock opera: two words that strike fear into the heart of a rock critic. The very notion of combining rock dynamics and melodies with the narrative structure of opera seems to cause most music writers to awaken in the middle of the night, breathing hard and covered in a cold sweat. They cry out in their sleep: Pretentious! Bombastic! Just too damned ridiculous! For the most part, that's probably true. But let's not forget the two granddaddies of the rock opera were critical and, in one case, even commercial successes. The Who's 1969 opus Tommy was a huge hit, with its author Pete Townshend being praised to the skies for his willingness to expand the boundaries of rock. (He received less acclaim for 1973's Quadrophrenia, even though that record is probably a more fully realized version of the rock opera concept.) Critics are even more fawning over the undeservedly obscure S.F. Sorrow, a psychedelic rock opera by English bad boys the Pretty Things which predated Tommy by a year. (And we won't even go into Tomorrow frontman Keith West's solo single "Excerpt From a Teenage Opera," which predates Sorrow.) Besides those records, though, it's powerfully unhip to admit to even considering listening to a rock opera. It's like asking for Frito pie at a black tie charity dinner.

Never let it be said, however, that we at High Bias shirk from a challenge. With the recent flowering of progressive rock in the underground there's been a resurgence, however slight, of rock operas. (A quick expository diversion: rock operas are not necessarily the same thing as concept albums. A concept album is an album on which the songs follow a common theme. Perhaps the album tells a story, perhaps not. Rock operas definitely tell a story and they do so in the conversational style of standard opera, often with multiple singers in a call-and-response pattern. Concept albums usually unfold as merely a collection of songs, while rock operas usually flow together as one big long piece. Paul K's brilliant A Wilderness of Mirrors, for instance, is definitely a concept album that tells a story, but it would be inaccurate to call it a rock opera, as it works just as well as a collection of songs. Anyone who doesn't know the story behind the record won't really be missing anything. In the case of Tommy, it could be argued that following the story behind the songs enhances full appreciation of the music. Yes' Tale of Topographic Oceans is a concept album. Styx's Kilroy Was Here is a rock opera, or at least was intended to be. Only Humpty Hump knows what Digital Underground's Sex Packets is. Clear? End of diversion.) Two very different examples of the form arrived on our doorstep within days of each other, and so we bravely sail into the choppy waters of an ocean rarely explored in recent years.

First up is Bulgaria-born, Finland-based guitarist/composer Nikolo Kotzev's ambitious two-disc Nostradamus. He enlists several second-tier classic rock singers to give voice to the characters, including Glenn Hughes, Alannah Myles, Sass Jordan and, as the precognitive title character, former Rainbow/current Deep Purple frontman Joe Lynn Turner. Bringing this project to fruition was no doubt a labor of love for Kotzev, and it shows in the carefully-researched back story and impressive libretto. Unfortunately, Kotzev doesn't seem to have put as much effort into the composition as he does into the presentation. His melodies are dreadfully prosaic, seemingly content to recycle various 70s hard rock riffs and 80s power ballads. The anthems which comprise most of the opera sound pretty much the same, and the ballads distinguish themselves more due to the bombastic singing than from any melodic variation. One would think that a musician of Kotzev's classically-trained background would be capable of more complex and interesting writing—perhaps he felt listeners would have an easier time following the storyline if they could bang their heads or slow dance. Compounding the problem with the tunes are the vocalists. Turner, Jordan and Hughes (as Henry II, King of France) seem more interested in out-emoting each other than in working together for the good of the songs. Hughes in particular chews the audio scenery like a starving coyote locked in a henhouse. It's too bad; the story of Nostradamus has enough political, religious and psychic intrigue to make a fascinating narrative. Unfortunately, it seems that Kotzev isn't the one to carry it off.

By contrast, Leonardo: The Absolute Man is a good example of a rock opera done right. Composed by Magellan leader Trent Gardner and featuring Dream Theater's James LaBrie, Leonardo attempts to tell the story of Leonardo Da Vinci. The focus is on Da Vinci the man, as opposed to Da Vinci the Renaissance icon, so the story concentrates on his relationship with family, friends and royalty. Since the voluminous literature about Da Vinci contains little that reveals his innermost thoughts and feelings, Gardner can let his imagination take the songs where they need to go, instead of having to retrofit facts into his musical concepts. His music moves squarely through the progressive rock lands, but traverses a variety of terrain within those borders. Classical, pop and bits of jazz and metal enliven the memorable melodies, and Gardner's crystalline production and clean arrangements allow all the colors to shine brightly. There's much more give and take between the vocalists here than on Kostev's record. Instead of constantly trying to outdo each other, the Leonardo singers (including Josh Pincus of Ice Age, Chris Shryack of Under the Sun, Mike Baker of Shadow Gallery and other Magna Carta stalwarts) have actual musical conversations. The best performances, though, come from the composer and the star. Gardner achieves the impossible by making digital keyboards sound warm and lifelike, giving the production depth and color, and his vocal harmonies generate a lushness usually associated with the Beach Boys. For his part, LaBrie is simply spectacular as Leonardo. Without having to compete with Dream Theater's high volume and aggressive virtuosity, he can finally give a performance full of the subtlety, nuance and emotion of which his supporters have long claimed him capable. While perhaps not as good as Tommy or S.F. Sorrow, Leonardo is still an excellent example of how to do it right.

With works like Leonardo in the canon, perhaps the rock opera will regain the respect it once claimed. Probably not, but the music snobs and tastemakers will be missing out. Michael Toland

For fans of:
Nostradamus: Savatage, Rainbow, Deep Purple
Leonardo: Magellan, Rush, the Who's Quadrophrenia