The Glorious Burden

Iced Earth is an intriguing band, to say the least. Formed in the 80’s by the subject of many metalhead’s attempted fellatio, rhythm guitarist Jon Schaffer, and not doing anything worthy until 1989 demo Enter the Realm, Iced Earth clearly had the talents to make it big. And when I say big, I do mean big. Yes, almost to a Megadeth/Blind Guardian popularity level. And rather unfortunately, Iced Earth DID make it big, and they have hell to pay now. After pumping out three utter classics of dark, morbid thrash with a power metal vibe (written and released during a time when such music was unpopular), Jon and his “band” massively simplified their style, and I can’t describe this shift in both musical effort and quality without that classic phrase: “selling out.” And however much it pains me to say it, The Glorious Burden is a culmination of the dumbing down of Iced Earth’s worth as a viable music force, and this downward trend shows no sign of slowing. And no, the uber-patriotic American history theme of the album hardly helps matters at all, and only makes the album come off as stale and a rather late-attempt to make money off of the surge in American support following 9/11. Yes, Jon Schaffer loves America, but Christ, couldn’t you write a GOOD album that glorifies your country?

I won’t bother to hide that I love Iced Earth, for the most part. It has become somewhat of a trend (at least on the Internet) to bash the band, both for their bland later output and their heavier, more aggressive albums as well from the early 90’s as well. And while I can see why metalheads would dislike even their first several efforts, those first three albums hold a special place in my heart. Iced Earth, Night of the Stormrider and Burnt Offerings are all integral to the development of my music tastes. And though this album was just as important as the others, if not even more so, I cannot hide the fact that The Glorious Burden cannot be considered an actively “good” release in any meaning of the word. Jon Schaffer’s riffage was once fast, intense, creative, intriguing and heavily triplet-based, while usually managing to avoid repetition and boredom. Now, Jon Schaffer’s riffage is heavily triplet-based. Schaffer once wrote unbelievably awesome songs, with thrashy riffs all over the place, whilst longtime companion Randall Shawver wove excellent power metal melodies into the songs, creating a memorable metal experience. Now, the man writes slow, boring, plodding songs with as minimal effort necessary (seriously, this album reeks of disinterest and a lack of effort on the musician’s part, despite however much work and passion Schaffer claims to have put into making it), and Randall Shawver isn’t even around anymore. Iced Earth used to have awesome singers, from the nasally and fun Gene Adams, to the shrieky, powerful and jizz-worthy John Greely, to the dark and melancholic Matt Barlow. Now, Iced Earth has Tim Owens, and although the man is just as good as a singer as all the previous ones (if not better), he just isn’t singing anything good or worthy of listening to. Every single element of this album congeals into a massive, dense vortex of suckage. Nothing that matters is done right.

I will start with the good, and yes, despite however hard I’ve been on this album, there is still some good in here. It mostly lies in the little four song streak, beginning with “The Reckoning (Don’t Tread on Me)” and ending with “Red Baron, Blue Max.” “The Reckoning” is pretty damn awesome for the most part, despite how tired and uncreative it is. It’s fast, and because Iced Earth always sucks when playing slow, playing fast is the first step in the right direction. It has that awesome thrashy verse riff, followed by a speedy, generic flowcore riff, and the two manage to rule somewhat effectively, forming a decent tribute to Painkiller. However, during the chorus there is hardly a riff at all! Just your generic Standard Issue Iced Earth Triplet Riff™, getting nothing done put providing an annoying rhythm that hardly moves the song along. The band attempts Blind Guardian-esque choral arrangements, which aren’t used to a particularly great effect. And, somebody well-versed with the bullshit Schaffer has been churning out for about fourteen years will recognize what follows next: a generic Standard Issue Iced Earth Melodic Interlude™. Yes, Iced Earth has been releasing albums since 1990, and they still cram quiet, melodic parts into the songs, for better or for worse. Tim Owens mutters and screams some nonsense before the song explodes again, and after we are annoyed by the chorus a few more times, the song ends.

Now, notice the words I used to describe “The Reckoning.” Tired, uncreative, generic, decent, annoying, and bullshit. Yeah, that was pretty much the best song on the album. Things aren’t looking good. “Greenface” is pretty much the same, but without the silly interlude. An awesome thrash riff in the beginning, interrupted by aggravating triplet garbage, and a goofy and unconvincing chorus. “WAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! Greenface!” I don’t know why Schaffer would want Owens to imitate a crying infant during a song about American soldiers, but he does regardless. Still, “Greenface” is pretty good: “I’ll be where the metal meets the meat!!” “Attila” is another goodish song, with another nifty, interesting riff in the beginning. It almost manages to sound epic during certain parts, and the attempts to use harsh vocals to represent the Huns are intriguing, albeit rather poorly executed. “Red Baron, Blue Max” was one of my personal favorites, both then and now; with another awesome, unique riff in the beginning (notice the pattern that the few good riffs are used up at the beginnings of songs?) and some great vocals. There’s even a fast part in the middle that actually manages to, surprisingly, raise tension, which is released when the great intro riff returns. If all of the songs sounded like these four, you would have, well, a slightly above-average Iced Earth album.

But hey, this is post 1996-Iced Earth, so it’s about high time they start writing songs that are bland and unmemorable all the way through, instead of merely throwing in bland and unmemorable segments into otherwise decent songs. The album opens up with, rather expectedly, a rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which sounds exactly what you would expect it to: good by the mere fact that it was already a good song, but nothing is particularly notable or praise-worthy. What follows is probably one of the most ludicrous excuses for metal I’ve heard, “Declaration Day.” There are hardly any riffs in this song, and although I may come off as some sort of riff-hungry maniac that demands heavy-metal-mayhem at all times, I have every right to expect to be disemboweled by speed metal fury when I listen to any album of a thrash, speed or power metal nature. And “Declaration Day” has none of this: it is slow, boring and carried solely by Tim Owens’ vocals. Owens releases some awesome screams near the end, but no amount of shrieking about demanding liberty and/or death makes up for the fact this is a sorry excuse for a song. This was one of the first Iced Earth songs I discovered, and it pains me to remember the day when I thought this song was incredibly awesome. “Waterloo,” the only other straightforward metal song that isn’t quite up to par with the album’s peak, is much better in comparison, utilizing somewhat interesting melodies courtesy of Ralph Santolla, a man capable of much better than this album. There are some good riffs as well, but it’s unlikely that any metalhead worth his salt has stuck around long enough to hear them.

“Hollow Man,” “Valley Forge” and “When the Eagle Cries” are all wholeheartedly unnecessary. The latter is constantly derided, and it’s pretty easy to see why: it’s a disgusting, sappy and vapid tribute to 9/11. The verses are boring, the riffs are nonexistent, and the lyrics cringe-worthy. I don’t mean to come off as insensitive, but this song is simply lame. Eagles crying? Give me a break. Oh, and if you have the limited edition of the album, you get to hear the song AGAIN, at the end of disc one. An all-acoustic take of the same god-awful song. Yes, maybe your god does want you to get cancer after all. “Hollow Man” is your usual stupid, uninteresting Iced Earth ballad with lyrics that hardly apply to America at all. T.S. Eliot, you are not. “Valley Forge” is right after it, and is pretty much ANOTHER ballad, with weak riffs interspersed between the acoustic verses. Why are you listening to this album, instead of Night of the Stormrider? These past five songs I’ve mentioned all move at about the same pace as well, a technique Jon Schaffer has well developed, in an attempt to turn your brains into mush and have them leak out of your ears.

All that is left to be examined is the “Gettysburg Trilogy:” a triumvirate of three lengthy songs, each focusing on a specific day in the Battle of Gettysburg, more or less the turning point of the American Civil War in the Union’s favor. I am pleased to announce that these songs, surprisingly, are very catchy and enjoyable, albeit in a non-traditional sense. Yes, these songs are “metal,” but they really shouldn’t be, because these songs are mostly supported by the orchestral effects and (surprise surprise) Tim Owen’s vocals. Yeah, there are some riffs, but the best parts of the album are the quiet acoustic parts! Who expected that? Take the intros of “Hold at all Costs” and “High Water Mark” as an example, which feature Tim Owens cheesily narrating fiction dialogue between the generals and soldiers of the battle. Yes, it is goofy and overly-serious, but I can’t help but always sing along to “The last time we were together/I grabbed his hand and I pledged/If I ever draw my sword on you/May the good Lord strike me dead!” “The Devil to Pay” begins the trilogy in great fashion, and despite opening with “The Star Spangled Banner” (again?), it has a nice-ish riff, and somehow manages to not get boring after twelve minutes. The excerpts of the Union and Confederate anthems (“When Johnny Comes Marching Home” and “Dixie”, respectively) greatly add to the atmosphere of the music, much more than the random battle sounds and gunshots, at least. Hell, now that I think about it, screw “The Reckoning;” “High Water Mark” is the true highlight of The Glorious Burden. Yeah, it’s about as half as fast and twice as long, but Christ on a stick, listen to the last four minutes of the thing. The part where General Lewis Armistead screams “We’re almost there my boys/I’ve never served with finer/We must push forward boys/And bayonet the Yankee tyrants!” sends shivers down my spine, as well as General Lee’s little monologue at the end. “IT’S ALL MY FAULT! THE BLOOD IS ON MY HANDS!!” In the end, the trilogy is over thirty minutes long, which is a bit of a stretch. Cutting it down by 10 minutes or so and ceasing to pretend that these songs were meant to be heavy metal music would’ve raised my opinion on the entire album as a whole.

I remember when I first discovered heavy metal and began listening to this album, I eagerly ordered a shirt donning the Iced Earth logo and the artwork of The Glorious Burden. However, it arrived one size too large, and I sent it back and for some reason never ordered a proper shirt. Looking back, I can appreciate just how lucky I was to be the proud non-owner of merchandise associated with this musical failure. I suppose this album isn’t inherently as bad as I make it out to be, but the main fact of the matter is that it could’ve been a trillion times better than it actually was. Ralph Santolla would go on to join death metal masters Deicide, and later Obituary, and would demonstrate his mastery of guitar, making it all the more bizarre that this Iced Earth album features no fretboard wizardry whatsoever. Having a legitimately interesting lead section of the band would’ve greatly improved this effort, but I wouldn’t be all to surprised if Schaffer objected to the idea simply because he’s a pompous attention whore. Drummer Richard Christy is obvious talented, having played on the uber-technical The Sound of Perseverance by Death, but there are no interesting, jazzy drumbeats, or any indicants of a notable performance at all. Simply stereotypical flowercore double bass blasting until your eardrums rupture. And yes, one of the main reasons I loved this album as a child is that I fooled myself into thinking that Tim Ownage made up for the lacking music. It’s just much too hard to imagine the idea of Owens joining Iced Earth without immediately assuming the album would sound like “Night of the Stormrider, Part II.” Really, this album had all of the elements to be their best effort since Burnt Offerings, and possibly a classic of modern heavy metal, considering the new members. But unfortunately, The Glorious Burden ends up just as bad as the previous three Iced Earth albums, probably even worse. For every good riff and interesting vocal line or lyric, there are 3 bland riffs and -2 solos. Richard Geib, my AP US History teacher, has made learning about American history far more metal than this album ever will. Something tells me that Iced Earth would head in a better direction if he fronted the band, rather than Jon Schaffer.