1 of 2

"Under your spell again / I can't say no to you / Crave my heart and its bleeding in your hand / I can't say no to you" —from "Good Enough"

Christian rock pundits know Evanescence very well. They know the band as the ones who started out "Christian," but soon chose to turn their backs on the CCM scene, not only slamming the door on their way out, but verbally slamming the genre overall.

Promotional efforts leading up to their smash 2003 debut, Fallen, were tailor-made for a massive, twofold launch in mainstream and Christian rock circles. In the latter, the band played industry showcases, got their music shopped to Christian radio, and had a presence at brick-and-mortar retail outlets.

Wind-up Records was banking on them, too. After experiencing unprecedented success with faith rockers Creed (who never claimed to be a Christian band) and a decent outcome with newcomers 12 Stones (who essentially did make that claim), Wind-up hoped Evanescence would be their first true dual-market success story. Young, unassuming, and from the Bible-belt state of Arkansas, founding members and youth-camp buddies Amy Lee and Ben Moody were simply too good to be true.

But then the f-bomb happened. Moody dropped it in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, in which he expressed his distaste for being on the Christian music charts, while co-founder Amy Lee simply nodded in agreement.

Chaos ensued. The news spread, livid Christian fans bombarded the band's message board—which was shortly shut down—and an apologetic Wind-up was forced to issue a press release ordering a recall of all Evanescence product from Christian outlets.

As fate would have it, various dysfunctions have plagued the band since. Moody quit in late 2003 over creative differences, Lee got involved in a tumultuous relationship with Seether frontman Shaun Morgan, the band sued and dismissed their former manager, and new guitarist Terry Balsamo suffered a stroke.

In retrospect, the band was never all that spiritual to begin with. Some of their songs alluded to faith struggles ("Bring Me to Life," "Tourniquet"), but on the whole, the majority of Fallen consisted of dark, cryptic diary entries about personal demons, love lost, and insecurities, all set to the larger-than-life, programmed sounds of nü-metal/pop.

In many ways, the band's long-awaited second album, The Open Door, is an extension of what the band has done before. Industrial backbeats give way to thick metal riffs, orchestrated grandeur, and ghoulish choral elements, all complemented by Lee's operatic soprano. The sound is loud, yes, but it's almost indistinguishable from its predecessor—a disappointment considering the opus was nearly three-and-a-half years in the making.

Still an enigmatic and sinister songstress, Lee uses most of The Open Door to channel her frustrations with recent toxic liaisons, utilizing a few curious faith-based metaphors in the process. In the self-explanatory first single "Call Me When You're Sober," she tells her ex, "Don't cry to me … If you loved me, you would be here with me / … How could I have burned paradise? How could I … you were never mine."

In "Weight of the World," the singer tells a needy co-dependent, "Feels like the weight of the world / Like God in heaven gave me a turn / Don't cling to me, I swear I fix you," only to tell him a few lines later, "If you love me, then let go of me / I won't be held down by who I used to be."

next page... |  1 of 2