Color me shocked (I was more than surprised) when I came along this tidbit of information: Stream of Passion was not a one-off project of Arjen Lucassen and the luscious, in more ways than one, Marcela Bovio. Lucassen left Stream of Passion on their own. This I did not learn until after giving The Flame Within a quick run through; I was in such disbelief at this wondrous aural onslaught coming from an Arjen-less Stream of Passion that I double- and triple-checked the fact of his departure. Here was an album that had only hit the net in the form of a promo copy with that damned voice-over making an appearance. I would say it made an appearance during all the good parts but that would be a lie because, while the parts it spoke over were good, the album was all good. Sure, you could say I was irritated by this constant reminder of what the copy I had on my hard drive, rather than in my hands, was, but The Flame Within was of a high enough caliber to make up for such shortcomings.
Nightwish recently parted ways with the soaring, operatic frontwoman, Tarja Turunen in favor of the more mainstream, streamlined Anette Olzon. Fans of the band were ready to make a Shish Kabob of Olzon before she even took to the stage or studio with the band, feeling the departure of Nightwish's distinctive voice would leave too big a gaping hole for anyone to fill. Olzon's debut with Nightwish, Dark Passion Play, divided fans, yet brought new ones onboard, myself included. Tarja commanded your attention, criminally overshadowing Tuomas Holopainen's tight, dense and, in a word, epic compositions; Olzon gave Tuomas' a chance to slip out from under Tarja's shadow, Dark Passion Play having the sound of a Hollywood movie score. None of this is a jab at Tarja, as I respect her ability immensely, but rather an explanation of how that hole Olzon was hired to fill was, to put it bluntly, a black hole that sucked in all the arrangements that surrounded it.
Similarly, Stream of Passion is liberated by Arjen Lucassen's departure. Arjen, like Neal Morse, and many others, plays the same note in all his albums and projects, except with a certain amount of flair. Ayreon, for example, is only worthy as a sum of its parts, its cast of vocalists and other guesting musicians making it worth a listen if only for the prospect of hearing all these masters of their domains under one roof, sharing one domain.
Marcela Bovio was one of Arjen's hand picked guests for Ayreon's The Human Equation, making my ears perk up more than any other female vocalist on the album. Naturally, Stream of Passion claimed a spot on my listening list with her involvement, not so much Arjen's. Embrace the Storm, the band's first effort, struck a chord in me, but it was, as I said, Arjen's tired old chord. Bovio took it places it wouldn't have gone otherwise on the wings of her voice, but I felt it was essentially a vapid, under-developed Ayreon side-project, little more. It had its moments. There were songs I kept coming back to, yes. And, no matter how often I came back to it, it never grew on me, instead dropping far out of the race for my listening time, more the more I went through it.
The Flame Within benefits from Arjen not being at the helm, over-complicating things. Here we hear Bovio without all the unnecessary frills; in the case of Nightwish, the singer overpowered the other instrumentation, and with Stream of Passion that issue is flipped, with Arjen's ambition hiding Bovio's centerpiece of a voice behind extravagant, petty instrumentation. Stream of Passion stripped the meat off the bone, so to speak, leaving only the basic supports there, completely bare. Almost a pop metal approach.
Due entirely to this, each bandmember shines in his or her role. Jeffrey Revet accents the songs with tasteful, restrained playing on the keyboards and piano, no differently than Steven Wilson's piano contributions with Porcupine Tree or Jordan Rudess' guest appearance on Wilson's solo album, Insurgentes (one of many performances that decimates the argument that Rudess' is incapable of adding an atmospheric quality like the keyboardists that preceded him in Dream Theater were said to excel at). Eric Hazebroek and Stephan Schultz trade off, each playing both lead and rhythm guitar, the end result being appropriate, self-contained solos and rhythm guitar, neither ever playing above the rest of the song, but falling in line with it while making their mark on it at the same time. Bovio has the performance of her life, giving the album the same sort of sensibility as, say, Amy Lee of Evenescence, but without sacrificing anything, clearly outshining the likes of Lee and any others that may be nipping at her heels. Her voice is layered when appropriate for properly impactful moments, provides equally appropriate accents, and rises to great heights as the music peaks.
Listeners should not go into this album expecting a layered approach, nor should they have expectations of a straight-forward, meandering piece of music. The Flame Within settles in cozily between the two extremes, only ever experiencing the slightest of dips as the album draws to a close, that dip a minor one barely worth mentioning and only consisting of a couple songs. All in all, it is worth it, if only for hearing that rare woman who seems at home in the prog and/or metal arena and has such range and boisterous pipes.
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